I’ll start as I mean to go on: this is a thoroughly entertaining space adventure, and one which left me eagerly awaiting its next instalment.
Part of the reason for that, is the universe. A universe where interstellar travel is real, and where long distance travel necessitates a larger ship Where a handful of arks, humanity’s trade fleet, sail the deep black, their crews together for years at a time, families under a tight naval tradition. It’s a universe of the mercantile, where one versatile, but alien, product, drives the engine of the economy. Where bones of dead cultures litter the graveyards of humanity’s resurgence, stepping over the shoulders of deceased alien giants. This is a universe with old, hidden grudges, where humanity is taking its place upon a broader stage, not yet unblinkered enough from its own expansion to see the dangers lurking around the edges of their still pool.
In many ways, it’s a neo-feudal world, too. Great families, with concessions based on alien technology, revel in untrammelled wealth and near-unbridled power. They buy, or expect, or influence their way onto the great ships that travel the gulf between populated stars, and in that work they learn, trade, make connections, and get very, very rich. Perhaps the common person crews the ships, but the families whose wealth shapes stellar politics, they practically own the ships. Still, there’s a sense of dependence and decay about it too, of wealth flowing in too quickly to be spent, but of a lack of innovation, a lack of need to do something different. The human polity may not be stagnant, but it may be constrained.
In any case, from the carmine-spotted floors of a service orphanage, to the simulated mind of a ship AI, to the darkness between the stars, to the ruins of alien worlds, and the rising of humanity around them, this is a universe of breathtaking scope. It’s detailed, vividly imagined, and beautifully crafted.
Marca Nbaro is the orphaned scion of one of the great families, now somewhat down on her luck. She’s a woman desparate to serve on one of the Greatships, to fall into the quiet family of the service, to do something better than slaving away in an orphanage - and never look back.
Marca is great. She’s fiery, wary of friendship and intimacy, careful with her trust - and at the same time, keen to be surprised. She believes everyone is basically awful, but wants to know otherwise. And watching her slowly come around to her crew, her bunkmates, her superiors and otherwise - well, it’s quite a journey, and a compellingly human one. Marca also serves as an excellent lens for the reader: she’s read about the Greatships, but never been on one, so her stumbling efforts to fit in, to be worth something, to understand, mirror the reader’s own steps in the world. It helps that Marca is genuine, forthright, and accepting of her own flaws; in a world that needs a heroine, she’s doing pretty well. Smart, competent, and driven, Marca is a fantastic protagonist, whose rich emotional life (often filled with expletives and concern about doing something wrong, and sometimes rather more positive) is an absolute joy on the page. Marca is someone I’m not going to forget in a hurry - and her friends, enemies, and something-in-between’s, are similar. Each has enough layers and complexity that we know them as a person, we invest in them, we care. Cameron has always written multifaceted, compelling characters, and that’s definitely the case here. I hope you love Marca as much as I did - she kicks arse.
The story I shan’t spoil, but it’s one part coming of age, one part conspiracy, one part space naval adventure, and absolutely all awesome. There’s aliens and space battles and ancient mysteries and secret cabals. There’s new worlds and romance and space fighters. There’s broadsides and submarine-sneaks, and double-crosses and power politics. There’s a larger picture that slowly comes into focus, and intimate, human moments that make you gask with their emotional intensity.
Overall...yeah, go pick this one up.
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