If the three pieces of original fiction in the March issue of Apex Magazine are any indication, the issue’s theme could be summed up as the intersection between beast and human.

Ekaterina Sedia’s “The Mind of a Pig” opens with Joel’s discovery that he is actually a pig, not the human he thought he was. As the shock wears off, he realizes that his porcine form explains the previously mysterious actions of the people around him: the way they talk as if he isn’t in the room, the way Cassie doesn’t seem to notice his attempts to show affection. But Joel is in for an even bigger shock — he is part of a program using pigs to grow human organs for transplant, and he is the only pig to host a human brain for that purpose.

The premise of “The Mind of a Pig” is intriguing, and being no scientist, it seemed plausible enough to me. But I never fully bought into the characters, who seem to operate in service to the plot rather than as independent beings. This is especially true of the minor characters, Cassie’s Dad and the reporter, who appear to function almost solely to provide the reader with an explanation of the organ transplant project, through dialogue contrived to relate as much background information as efficiently as possible. Even Cassie, apparently the sole object of Joel’s affection, is drawn so sparingly that it is unclear whether she is a child of ten or a young woman. While Joel is sympathetic, the potential for empathy with the protagonist is dampened by the flatness of the other characters and his relationships with them.

“The Puma” by Theodora Goss is an interesting take on H.G. Wells’ classic The Island of Dr. Moreau. In Goss’ version, Edward Prendick’s post-island seclusion in the English countryside is interrupted by Catherine, a distinctly feline woman who calls herself Mrs. Prendick. Edward is struck by her beauty, the scars now erased from the face of the Puma Woman who killed Moraeu. Her presence releases a flood of memories for him: of the island, of Moreau, Montgomery, the Beast Men, of the fire and of subsequent actions of his own he would like to forget. But Catherine has come not only to reminisce — she has a favor she would ask, a favor she knows he cannot refuse.

This story is fascinating and well-wrought, flowing smoothly from a conversation between a civilized lady and gentleman in an English garden to the savagery of men and beasts on the island, and back again. Alive with sensory detail, gripping tension, and social commentary, “The Puma” is an engrossing story in its own right as well as a fitting homage to Wells’ novel.

The third story for March includes an interaction between beast and man, but of an entirely different sort. In “Head Music” by Lon Prater, Diego has heard strange, mournful music in his head all his life, but now the music has control of his body. It drags him from his bed to a beach, where a vaguely cylindrical sea creature lies dying. But this is no whale. It is covered in sharp scales and either end presents a tentacled orifice. Through the music and “ancient intuition” Diego knows what he must do for the creature, whatever the cost.

“Head Music” is a tale of Lovecraftian horror. I am admittedly not well-read in this subgenre, so perhaps I just don’t “get it.” It does offer some striking visceral descriptions and well turned phrases. However, I felt cheated by this story because the protagonist’s motivations were completely opaque to me. The first half presents itself as a supernatural calling to do good to a fellow creature, no matter how disgusting or dangerous that creature might be. And this creature is certainly both, as the reader discovers through graphic description. But even as Diego crawls inside the reeking sea-thing to retrieve its unborn young, it communicates to him the intentions of its kind to “sweep the planet clean of humanity.” Yet Diego is undaunted, and seems to want nothing more than to serve and join with such creatures, even if it means his death. Without some background as to why Diego might wish to see the destruction of his own kind, I am at a loss to understand it.