Showing posts with label mil sci-fi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mil sci-fi. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 27, 2022

Microreview: The Cruel Stars by John Birmingham

 Space Nazis set loose a plague of zombies and well-worn tropes in this epic military sci-fi.



Tomorrow marks the start of Conflux, Canberra’s convention for speculative fiction writers. For 2022 it is doing double duty as the Australian national speculative fiction convention. It has become my tradition to review something by a Guest of Honour wherever possible. This year that’s John Birmingham.

The Cruel Stars is the first in an anticipated trilogy of military sci-fi. It follows the perspectives of five survivors of an attack by the Sturm. The Sturm are explicitly described as space Nazis, obsessed with keeping humanity pure of the neural nets and other in-body technology that has become so pervasive. Having been defeated once many years ago, they return following a necrophagic virus they’ve engineered to turn anyone with implants into zombies, wiping out most of civilisation. It’s up to our survivors to defeat them once again.

While The Cruel Stars is a solid read, it’s not exactly breaking new ground. Rather, it weaves together a bunch of well-worn sci-fi elements into a complex pattern. Most people live several lifetimes, downloading their consciousness into new bodies when their current ones wear out. Skills are frequently downloaded rather than learned, like in the Matrix.

Lucinda Hardy is the commander of the only surviving warship in the Royal Armadalen Navy and a warrior who has worked hard to acquire her abilities in combat. Her scenes are the most traditionally military sci-fi, reminiscent of Battlestar Galactica and, later, anything with space marines. Having grown up in poverty, she feels out of place among the officers on her ship. Her Imposter Syndrome and the class issues her story touches upon give her some interesting dimensions, but not much time and space are devoted to exploring these issues in depth due to the sheer number of elements in play.

The characters of Sephina L’trel and Booker3 lean into different aspects of cyberpunk. Sephina is the head of an outlaw band who are in the middle of a gunfight when the virus takes hold around them. These characters play more into the sassy, criminal, Japanese-influenced aspects of cyberpunk. In contrast, Booker3 is on death row for his heretical belief that the soul is code that can be transferred between bodies and machines. He has much more of a Ghost in the Shell vibe, with faint echoes of Murderbot. Some of the forms into which he is downloaded prove rather amusing.

A very young princess of a corporation and a very crusty retired admiral round out the point-of-view characters, along with the admiral of the Sturm. The number of POV characters with their very different situations gives a good sense of the epic scale of the attack. However, cycling through all the different storylines makes the pace slow, at least until they begin to converge.

I am not a big fan of zombie stories (with a few notable exceptions), but found their use in The Cruel Stars drew me in. After the initial, very gruesome shock of them, the zombie presence in the story remained relatively light, mostly remaining as an obstacle to the use of technology so prevalent in this world.

The cast is reasonably diverse, but not without problems. Using a character’s phenotype as a shortcut description seems a curious choice in a book about space Nazis — even if those space Nazis are less concerned with race than technology. Also, did we really need to fridge the gays?

Disability continues to be a weak point of the cyberpunk genre. It seems assumed that disabilities have been largely engineered away, except in the case of Admiral McLennan, whose refusal to have a predisposition to cancer engineered away and whose reluctance to relife has him facing disaster in 54-year-old body — traits which are framed more as eccentricities than solid representation of disability.

It managed to weave in some distinctly Australasian elements, which I appreciated. These elements mostly tied into the setting. This is a far-future story, but still based in our world. The Royal Armadalen Navy that Lucinda serves is the military arm of the Commonwealth of Armadale. For context, Armadale is a suburb in the city of Perth in Western Australia which originally started life as a small colonial garrison. Lucinda is also mentioned as earning the Star of Valour in the Javan War. One of the most powerful corporations-cum-noble-houses is the Yulin-Irrawaddy Combine (though, as they are also one of the least ethical and most ruthless, perhaps not the most well-considered inclusion) and a number of characters are described as having South-east Asian phenotypes.

The writing style was noticeably clunky early on and particularly in the first chapter. I found this surprising from someone I would have considered a reasonably experienced writer. Fortunately, it improved as the book went on, finding its strength more in action sequences and big moments. 

That said, I did find the ending somewhat unsatisfying, with a deus ex machina that was more literal than most.

All in all, The Cruel Stars didn’t blow me away, but may appeal to more devoted readers of epic science fiction.


Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Microreview [book]: The Fortress at the End of Time by Joe M. McDermott

Like Watching Paint Dry, But Better


Here's the truth about military service: it's boring. You do the same things over and over for preparedness. It's incestuous. All the same people run in the same circles and when you're ready to get out, there's no shortage of defense contractors ready to pay you more to do the same thing you used to do. And it's extremely political. Not in the red versus blue way, in the make friends and do favors to get things done way, regardless of how things should work. All of this amplified by at least a factor of five when you're deployed. The Fortress at the End of Time gets all of this right.

Ronaldo Aldo attends a war college to be an astronavigator to improve his lot in life. However, his duty assignment is an outpost at the farthest reaches of humanity called Citadel. And he doesn't have go, but his clone does. His body will be scanned and transmitted, and reconstructed at Citadel, all memories intact and no way to escape. You see the only way out of this dead end assignment is to do so well he can transcend and get another clone sent somewhere better, get himself discharged to the colony below, or die. The story's told from the past tense, and from the perspective of Aldo confessing to a terrible sin, so you can tell it's going only one of two ways.

I can't find any indication that McDermott has served, but he clearly gets what military service is like. It grinds people down, just as it does Aldo and the other service members aboard Citadel station. They're all on a career-long deployment to the most boring and poorly supported space station in the galaxy. Having spent some time myself in places that felt like the edge of the world, McDermott accurately portrays the life of people who are going slowly insane of boredom. They're constantly polishing floors, trying not to kill themselves, having the same arguments, and picking each other apart at any opportunity. It's awful in real life, and it's doesn't make for a particularly exciting read, but isn't that the point? It's all building to answer the question of what Aldo did to warrant this extended time with a confessor.

This boredom cuts two ways though. I spent most of the time wondering where in the world this story was going. And the end is unlikely to blow anyone away. However, if you make it to the end, it comes together in a way that's unexpected. It's the kind of novel that I like more the farther away I get from it. It not only does the military stuff well, but it asks some difficult questions about the fairness of being a clone of somebody with memories of a world you'll never see, and no hope of improving your situation personally. It reads like a running train of thought, but it goes some places.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 painfully accurate portrayal of the most boring parts of military life

Penalties: -1 You've got to stick through it and it's going to try your patience to get anything resembling a payoff.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10 (an enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws)

***

POSTED BY: brian, sci-fi/fantasy/video game dork and contributor since 2014

Reference: McDermott, Joe M. The Fortress at the End of Time [Tor, 2017] 

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Microreview [book]: Serengeti, by J.B. Rockwell


Since you all hang on each and every word I say, you surely remember when I said that I wanted something better than the standard six or seven, something outstanding.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Serengeti.

Because it is outstanding. The main character is not a human, or alien, but the ship itself. If that doesn't send you scrambling to buy it, I don't know what to tell you. I suppose I would say that the execution is essentially flawless, because while the main character is a spaceship is the surest way to get my money, it is not a terribly easy thing to pull off.

And that is where Rockwell and Serengeti succeed, and splendidly. AI is an awfully easy thing to execute poorly- too human and it is boring and lazily written, too cold and it is we can't relate to it. Serengeti pulls it off in a way that few have. Throughout, I was reminded of some of the things that drew me to SciFi in the first place- I, Robot and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (Blade Runner, if you want to go there, but I read the book waaaaay before I saw the movie), in print, and Enemy Mine in film.

All of these have a common thread which, to me, is what SciFi is all about- looking at our humanity through a lens not human. Serengeti makes for an excellent lens. I recommend you take a look through it.

The Math:

Baseline assessment: 9/10: very high quality/standout in its category

Penalty: -1 The editing could have been a little better. I am nitpicking, there was nothing major, but a few things slipped through.

Bonus: +1 for being worthy of the comparisons above. I like to talk in these reviews- sorry if that's annoying, but reviews are opinions, and I want y'all to know why I hold them. I had this at an 8 up there, at first, with these same penalties. But my gut said nine, and I went back and re-read the first two chapters- and those first two chapters alone are that good. Maybe in 50 years, we're not talking about Serengeti the way we are those books, or maybe we are, but with where we are at, in the stream of time, in SciFi, it is outstanding, thus:

Nerd Coefficient:: 9/10: very high quality/standout in its category

[Scoring explained here]

Dean is the author of the 3024AD series of science fiction stories. You can read his other ramblings and musings on a variety of topics (mostly writing) on his blog. When not holed up in his office
tweeting obnoxiouslywriting, he can be found watching or playing sports, or in his natural habitat of a bookstore.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Microreview [book]: Unbreakable by W.C. Bauers

Entirely Plastic


"Hollywood doesn't always get it right. Authors don't always get it right. "Civvies" like me don't always get it right either." - W.C. Bauers, from his blog

While I was reading Unbreakable, I had to question the author's background and I found this quote from his blog. It really struck me because he's absolutely right. I am notorious to people who know me for picking apart badly done military costumes in media. As an ex-Army veteran, I know all too well the modern uniform standards, and seeing those standards done poorly in TV and movies really grinds my gears. It's not hard to get right, so I don't understand why it is done wrong so often. It's arguably harder to get the military right in other aspects, particularly when you don't have the visual crutch. Bauers didn't get it right.

After her father is killed in a raid on their farm on planet Montana, Promise Paen enlists in the Republic of Aligned Worlds Marine Corp. After a mercifully brief stop through training (the 'basic training' chapters of mil sci-fi are something I find painfully overdone), Promise ends up back on Montana, now as a marine, in support of the RAW as they attempt to protect Montana from pirate raids, and prevent the Lusitanian Empire from taking the mineral-rich planet.

What Bauers gets right is the mechanics of the book. It moves at a steady pace, and it competently weaves its tale. He also gets the mechanics of the military right. Each faction has the right branches and departments and roles. There's no lack for acronyms, ranks, hierarchy, or cool military weapons.

But Bauers' military is a cartoon. Worse, it's doesn't feel authentic. Nevermind that Promise rockets to the top of her local command chain through field promotion. Every mil sci-fi does that. But the whole of the book is very cookie cutter. Promise is a young leader put in a tough position, much like every other protagonist in mil sci-fi. Her forces are always outnumbered but never defeated. She's the President's buddy, because she's apparently the only marine from Montana. The colonists on planet Montana are all rugged individualists with their own antiquated firearms. Even the names of these fictional locations, governments, and people define who they are. It's no coincidence that the planet of rugged individualists is Montana. Does the name 'Lusitanians' evoke an image for you?

The book doesn't make a convincing argument for why I shouldn't be rooting for the Lusitanians. With the exception of a couple of villainous Lusitanians, who are operating outside of command, they're not really even evil. It is implied that they pay mercenaries to attack RAW planets disguised as pirates, but the RAW wants Montana as much as they do. If the tables were turned, I'm not convinced that the RAW wouldn't do the same things the Lusitanians do.

Despite some gruesomely described deaths, I don't feel like I'm down on Montana with Promise. I feel like I'm watching her on TV. None of the characters come off as human, least of all Promise. She's nearly omniscient in her foresight. This is troublesome, because I never felt like something bad was going to happen in a story where the protagonists are desperately outnumbered. We're told early on that Montana's citizens have been burned by the RAW before and not likely to be receptive, but they are absolutely helpful, receptive, docile even. They don't show an inkling of resistance to the RAW occupation, nevermind turning against them and aligning with the Lusitanians. Their only detractor is an old man, whom the rest of Montana tells to stuff it.

There are also some little things that might be classified as mere pet peeves. Characters in the book refer to platoons as 'toons'. I have never ever ever ever heard anyone refer to their platoon as a toon. I've also never cared about where anyone's helmet was but mine and my soldiers', but I'm well aware of where Promise put hers because she racks it on her hip frequently. Yeah, sure, knowing where your stuff is is absolutely important. But have you ever walked around with a helmet attached to your hip? I'd rather wear mine. Of course, the Lusitanians, the so-called bad guys, are duplicitous, cheats, liars, and their uniforms are black and red.

But the worst, the absolute worst, is that Promise is haunted by her long-dead mother. Her mother, whose death is either not explained or poorly explained to the point that I glossed over it, frequently converses with Promise to give her life advice. Her mother's a tough woman, like all Montana women, but I'm particularly bothered that Promise might be insane and in a command position. We see enough of the other side's perspective that perhaps we're not dealing with an unreliable narrator, but this is the first part of The Chronicles of Promise Paen, and presumably her command won't be taken from her, despite being a person who's guided by the ghost of her mother.

Color me disappointed or annoyed more than anything. I feel like it would take more than a little bit of work to make me interested in another story about Promise. Maybe I'd be interested if Promise actually were insane, and we were to see what a broken person in a position of authority does. It would at least make for a more interesting story. Unbreakable is YA mil sci-fi. It's G.I. Joe. I don't dislike G.I. Joe, but I'm too old for it. I want more than what G.I. Joe has to offer. Likewise, Unbreakable could stand to be more adult.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 5/10

Bonuses: +1 Well paced

Penalties: -2 Entirely cartoonish in almost every way, nevermind military conflict

Nerd Coefficient: 4/10 (Not very good)

***

POSTED BY: brian, sci-fi/fantasy/video game dork and contributor since 2014

Reference: Bauers, W.C.. Unbreakable [Tor, 2015]