Chaos Terminal - Mur Lafferty

Lets talk about Chaos Terminal. It's the second in Mur Lafferty's Midsolar Murders series, and if you ask me, that pun alone is worth the price of admission. The first instalment introduced us to Mallory Viridian, a woman who always seems to be around when a murder takes place, and who always seems able to solve them. Getting tired of a constant cavalcade of dead bodies in her wake, she now lives on a space station, surrounded by aliens, most of whom don't drop dead around her. A few of them do eat people, or, from time to time, turn into sentient battlemechs made of rock, but that's a small price to pay, relatively speaking. Unfortunately for Mallory, the people of Earth have finally been allowed to send a proper ambassador out to talk to the different aliens in the galaxy, starting with her location. And they're on their way - which probably means someone is about to die, again.

The focus of the story remains Mallory, a protagonist whose business-like public face is backed up by vulnerability, honesty and an intense, well, humanity. After the events of the first book in the series, Mallory seems a little more settled in herself. No longer spooking at casual interactions,, not immediately assuming the worst, not living a hand to mouth existence in fear of what she might make happen next. Having said that, she's not action-girl-superhero either. Mallory Viridian is a woman who tries to think things through, figure things out as best she can, and do the right thing. If she's a little less internally conflicted about who she is and what she is now, that helps - but she's still the same thoughtful investigator she's always been, pulling on threads and connections, trying to see what's what and who's who to who. And she still has a certain emotional fragility to her, a life built on loss and murder having not really helped with that. This new Mallory is going to have to adjust though, because her past is, quite literally, going to catch up with her. A shuttle full of new people, well, new humans, form Earth is here. And, of course, a lot of them know her, and a lot of them can't stand each other.  But whether the new Mallory will sink or swim when faced with past friends and enemies thought long gone is another matter - and while I won't spoil it for you, I'll say this: if Mallory comes out at the end of this story, she'll be a very different person to the one we see on page one. And you can rely on Mur Lafferty to make us care about it. To feel the raw emotion, feel the truth of Mallory's existence, the small joys and different pains that make her life a,, well, life.

The story itself starts gently, as people start to arrive on Station Eternity, Mallory's new home. And people start to leave, too. And we're treated to some wonderful descriptions of truly alien environs, physiologies, and attitudes. That sense for the alien but familiar, and that feel for the deeply strange, have made this series one with a depth of imagination and invention in its worldbuilding that is hard to beat. As things escalate, as alarms start to go off, both mental and physical, that world seems in danger of crashing down. The rising tension and the steadily beating pace will keep you turning pages; just one more, to see how they get out of this one. Just one more, to see what happens next. Just one more, to see if this suspect is a killer. Just one more, to see who the guilty parties are. And it's three in the morning and the end was worth it but damned if you don't want the next book right now. 

And that, right there, that feeling was what I got when I finished this book, and why it's a book I think you all should hurry up and read.

Saevus Corax Deals With The Dead - K.J. Parker

Saevus Corax Deals With the Dead is the latest from K.J. Parker, and the start of a new series from them, to boot. Not to speak out of school, but it’s another solid entry, bringing the trademark wry wit blended with occasional violence, entwined with a story with as many twists and turns as a…twisty, turny thing. I’ll be the first to admit that I was never quite sure where the tale was going to take me next, but that I absolutely enjoyed every second of finding out. 

As is typical for Parker, we have a protagonist whom we might charitably describe as “morally grey”, or less charitably as “a bit of an arsehole”. Saevus Corax, for it is he, makes up for it with both a bounty of charm, and a voice which is razor sharp, horribly cynical, and unforgiving of his own flaws. Saevus Corax may be an arsehole, but he knows that, and makes no apologies. Well, he might make an apology, but he’s still going to steal your horse. Or possibly hit you over the head and take your boots. Hard to say, really. For all that though, Saevus Corax is a charmer. He’s someone who likes to talk, who can make the glibbest lie seem plausible. And, in fairness to him, he’s also got a shiny trap of a mind, full of gears and wheels. Because you can always see him falling from one crisis to another, but what you can’t see is whether that particular crisis is also something he’s made into an opportunity. It is, to be honest, tricky to get one around on Saevus Corax, and he’d be the first to tell you so. It helps that he has a fun supporting cast, but if I’m honest, this is largely a one person show, a man thrown into the firmament by the vagaries of chance and his own survival strategies.

As usual with Parker, that firmament may end up being rather bigger than you expect. There’s a lot of world on display here, all of it clearly precision-crafted. We can wade through mud and blood and bodies, digging for teeth, straightening arrowheads, and asking questions like “Saevus Corax, would you say battlefield salvage is a good gig?”. Or we can approach lavish courts, and regal suites with high and oddly barred windows, to learn about how one nation  survives as a counterbalance between conflicting empires. We can talk about the economics of murder, the economics of nation-states, and how those probably aren’t quite the same thing. The sense of history is always there, in the grime and the dirt and the banal humanity amongst the grandeur, and the surprising divinity of the humane amongst the grime. It’s a sprawling world, from sea battles to mud puddles and back around again, and it’s a world that makes sense to itself, both immediately and on a larger scale. Each character is taking sensible steps, and together, they’re changing the weft and warp of their world - and occasionally we may pull our vantage back and be able to see that. Or perhaps not, this time. In any case, the world is richly imagined, vividly described, and I’m rather grateful I don’t live there.

I already alluded to the story, and honestly, that’s all I can do without giving something away. It begins on a battlefield, but inside the first twenty or so pages, we;re having expectations upended, and truths turned into lies (and, perhaps, back again later).  The story is at once personal, the story of Saevus Corax and how he got where he is, and epic in the sense that it’s about a world changing around a focal point, around central events - or just by chance. It’s a story that blends those two perfectly, makes you care, and is going to make you keep turning pages until you’re done. K.J. Parker at his best, and that’s saying something.