Review by Colin Credle

It’s East Berlin in 1961 during the Cold War and our protagonist Herring is a disillusioned American spy who has infiltrated the notorious Stasi, the East Berlin surveillance agency watching everyone. It’s doubtful Herring’s betrayal has escaped detection by the Stasi, but he returns for one more mission. An unidentified flying object was seen crash landing in the area, but no one knows what it was or what happened to it. Double Agent Herring must locate the object, find out its details and only then can he return and escape to the West. Meanwhile, construction continues on the Berlin Wall. The noose is tightening and Herring’s access to escape diminishing with each day.

Writer Jeff Loveness wastes no time with this intense story as the opening salvo presents the question: why do we lie? The historical moment is filled with liars, with disinformation and with survivors of the atrocities hidden by lies. Navigating, surviving, lying, and sacrificing the earnest and the honest along the way leaves the soul with little loyalty and more with a gaping maw of internal emptiness.  Everything is watched and filed for further scrutiny later. Loveness takes the reader a little further into the mind of our liars as the weight of their lies and betrayals to survive weighs heavily on their conscience.

Into this moral labyrinth set with death traps drops a mysterious alien whose life force disrupts by illuminating forgotten truths. These acts of revealing remain deeply personal, but their impact drives the psychological drama. Stepping cruelly through the victims, exterminating the infected, defending the quarantine, marches a hard hearted Russian KGB Agent. It’s not clear what this KGB Agent is afraid of, or what she is defending, but she clearly is scared of the truth.

Although the pace is fast, Loveness is adept at capturing the psychological depth of each protagonist with great conviction. Cold War espionage drama keeps it riveting with liars and Machiavellian loyalties. The alien force is reminiscent of the classic John Carpenter film The Thing, as how humans behave as a result of the alien force is more fascinating than the alien force itself.

Artist Lisandro Estherren lifts the story with his atmospheric illustrations and Patricio Delpeche’s almost water colour like palette never skimps on light. Many stories of this ilk lean on dark and distorted frames to keep the reader guessing and disoriented, which is thankfully avoided here and the artwork elevates the story. Those sections that become more abstract do so in a way that still carries the day.

Strange Skies Over East Berlin thrills due to believable and unexpected twists motivated by the internal voices of seriously troubled people. It is a rather cerebral story, which benefits from multiple readings over extended periods of time and leaves the reader thinking about truth, lies and betrayals. Any reservations would be based on concerns that this subject matter is not for everyone. It’s disturbing. And that’s the truth.