Electronic OtherRealms #24 Spring, 1989 Part 8 of 10 Copyright 1989 by Chuq Von Rospach All Rights Reserved OtherRealms may not be reproduced without permission from Chuq Von Rospach. Permission is given to electronically distribute this issue only if all copyrights, author credits and return addresses remain intact. No article may be reprinted or re-used without permission of the author. Lots and Lots of Reviews by Lots and Lots of People Part 1 Alternities Michael P. Kube-McDowell Ace Books, 1988, 0-441-01774-6, 383 pp., $3.95. With the death of Robert A. Heinlein, we lost one of the best pragmatic and predictive political scientists of this century. With Alternities, Kube- McDowell amply demonstrates that the torch has been passed. Alternities is nothing less than a political science tour de force, an exercise in alternate history and sociology, set against the dramatic countdown to a different America's first-strike nuclear Armageddon. In 1966, a Walter Endicott stumbles through a gate between his own America and what comes to be called the Home Alternity, to find himself no longer in Philadelphia, but in Boston, and no longer in a world where the U.S. is winning the Cold War. By 1977, the secret Tower Guard of the National Resource Center, as administered by Albert Tackett for President Peter Robinson, robs the other seven Alternities thus far discovered. Technology, especially weapons systems stolen from worlds where the U.S. did challenge the communists in Korea and in Viet Nam, seems the only hope for a besieged Fortress America where Eisenhower never became President and paranoid McCarthyite isolationists prevailed. The perverse Endicott, now a powerful U.S. Senator, urges President Robinson to think the unthinkable, to plan a nuclear first strike against the Russians. For those in power, for the Alpha List, Robinson orders Tackett to prepare an escape from nuclear madness, a wholesale transfer of the leadership and their families through the gate to the gentler, kinder Indianapolis of Alternity Blue. For the grunt in the trenches, Rayne Wallace, little of the powerplays in his Home Alternity is apparent, as he shuttles from one Alternity to another as a Tower Guard runner. Wallace is more concerned with his disintegrating marriage to Ruthann in Boston, and his blossoming love for Shan Scott, once he is transferred to mole status in Alternity Blue. As Wallace and his fellow Guardsmen use the gates, they also become aware of a darker force at work, perhaps the very Gatekeeper itself. While many have patrolled these paratimes before, Kube- McDowell's version -- an apparent twist of Klein-Kaluza spacetime -- paves new and intriguing ground. With a 1950 branching point, and a setting ten years in our past where tantalizing glimpses of many other geopolitical settings credibly portray what might have been, the novel is both cautionary tale and history lesson. Turn off the TV and read this one now; it's a keeper. -- Dean R. Lambe Brothers in Arms Lois McMaster Bujold Baen Books, 1989, 0-671-69799-4, 338 pp., $3.95. Bujold's space romping wimp with mind of steel, Lord Vorkosigan of Barrayar -- alias Admiral Miles Naismith of the Dendarii Free Mercenary Fleet -- takes a rest and refit on the sod of Earth. With more buckle than swash this time, the adventures of Miles and his merry band continue in a battle with evil Cetagandans, bureaucratic twits, grogshop wenches, and the odd clone. Fresh from his triumphant POW camp rescue on Dagoola IV, and scarred from encounters with Cetagandan ships, Admiral Naismith expects repair of both ships and crew as he enters Earth orbit. When Miles, as his alter ego Lt. Vorkosigan, checks in with his secret masters in Barrayar Intelligence at the embassy in old London, however, he finds that by-the-book Captain Galeni has neither new orders nor much needed payment for the Dendarii mercenaries. Forced into busywork with his indolent cousin Ivan Vorpatril, Miles chafes under Galeni's command. Continuing delays in orders and payment push the mercenary fleet near bankruptcy, and Miles begins to suspect the motives of Galeni, a son of Komarr, the planet whose rebellion was crushed by Miles' powerful father. When a few of his troops get drunk and disorderly, Miles' dualistic identity is threatened by a nosy vid reporter, and he invents a not very convincing clone. Just as he finally overcomes his shyness with the comely Commander Elli Quinn, a real clone appears, and even Quinn and cousin Ivan are fooled by this new Mark, the pseudo Miles. The whole future of Barrayar, not to mention the Dendarii Free Mercenaries, is threatened by old foes and new woes. With this sins of the fathers, wins of the sons sequel, Bujold scores more goals for her series characters. If Earthbound fear of financial ruin while threatened by advancing tides seems strange venue for space opera, it is the '80s thing to do, and solid entertainment lurks within. -- Dean R. Lambe The Dark Door Kate Wilhelm St. Martin's Press, 1988, 0-312-02182-8, 248 pp., $16.95. Back in stride as master of the psychological suspense division of SF, Wilhelm's latest offers an entertaining variant on "The Thin Man" theme. Unlikely husband and wife detectives, Charlie Meiklejohn and Constance Leidl -- he a former New York cop and arson investigator, she a psychologist -- take on the case of the blazing inns, and risk more than first-degree burns. The story opens as Carson Danvers, his wife and son inspect the old River House inn outside of Washington D.C. Danvers intends to reopen the old place as an upscale restaurant, but encounters horror instead as an alien interstellar probe malfunctions. Wounded and disfigured, Danvers is mistaken for insurance adjuster John Loesser, and as Loesser he embarks on a cross-country hunt for the alien entity, a dark presence which causes only some to go violently insane. Danvers discovers that fire will remove his version of the devil from its preferred locus in high doorways of old buildings without electricity. After a six-year multi-state swath of fire, Danvers' crusade comes to the attention of Charlie and Constance, when underwriters seek Charlie's expertise. After the terror and death strike a Northern California boarding school, Constance brings Byron Weston, a crisis intervention psychotherapist, into the investigation. Gradually, the informal team comes to realize that Danvers may not be the public menace and crazy firebug he appears to be, and when Charlie's mind is affected by the entity at a ghost town in Nevada, Constance has to take drastic action. While the reader may suspect that Wilhelm's agent is pushing this hard in Hollywood, for it would make a fine edge-of-the-chair movie, plotting and characterization far surpass the usual Tinseltown cliches, and it merits your attention in the original vernacular. -- Dean R. Lambe The Dark Lady [****-] Mike Resnick This is the first book I've read by Mike Resnick, but it won't be the last. The basic plot involves a search for a woman who appears as the subject of several artworks. Since the paintings span about 8000 years of human history, this is obviously not your average model. There are also some mythic overtones surrounding the search that are well handled. In short, I picked the book up for what looked like a decent concept, and was hooked. There were also some side currents that seemed to tie in with other books by Resnick set in the same universe. This is one time I don't mind having a bunch of books set in the same universe; it looks interesting and well thought out. The only thing I really disagreed with were the stock aliens who acted too human. But that's a relatively minor blemish on a otherwise very good story. -- Chuck Koebel Dragonsdawn [***] Anne McCaffrey The latest Pern book tells the story of the original human landing on the planet. This has everything you expect from a Dragonrider book: threadfall, dragons, fire lizards, spunky young heroine and hero, etc. The society from the earlier (later, chronologically) books hasn't developed yet, but McCaffrey does plant the seeds for it. Not much real suspense, though, since we do know how Pern eventually turns out. Avid fans will probably rate the book [****]; readers looking for deep meaning or hard science might rate it [**]. For the rest of us, it's just a good, entertaining read. -- Chuck Koebel Dreams Of Dawn Marti Steussy Del Rey 1988 313 pp $3.95 345-35233-5 On the planet Karg, the human colony had been permitted to remain by the crustacean-like native sentients, against the recommendation of Circle Dawn, a multi-species, socio-ecological investigative team. Now, however, the Kargans have appealed for help from the Circle. The young of the Kargans are dying at an appalling rate, and they blame it on the humans. Can the Circle team find a solution to this biochemical mystery that will satisfy both Kargans and humans? This is pretty much your standard issue Del Rey novel, a reasonably well crafted, carefully middle-of-the-road adventure tale with minimal literary or thematic ambitions. For my taste there's rather too much expository backfill slowing down the plot, especially in the first half; and the author's habit of changing viewpoint characters every few pages soon becomes annoying. However, both the pace and the story improved in the second half of the book. A fair read for those who do not approach this book with too high expectations. -- David M. Shea My Father Immortal Michael D. Weaver St. Martin's Press, 1989, 0-312-02617-X, 228 pp., $16.95. Cry the beloved genre! I tried with Mercedes Nights, Weaver's first SF effort, but gave it up as unreadable. This time, I gnashed teeth past the Prologue (the middle of the story) and all the way to the end, only because the confused, disjointed, semiliterate muddle was a marvel of ideas last fresh when written by Jules and Herbert George. Product of the second TV generation -- with science and English grammar to match -- this rehash of When the Sleeper Wakes pits the cryogenic, matriarchal Grant family against a rock band (pun alert!) of gengineered human mutant troglodytes some 4000 years after the red balloons went up. Mother Grant, megacorporate nastiness incarnate, froze the family and a small army as a savings deposit for a later brave new world. Unfortunately, Stigg, that fun-loving cave guy, was out playing with still-functional, 4000-year-old hand grenades one day, and his game of boom-ball unearthed Tiffany from her cold sleep chamber. Tiffany's brother Philip, in cooperation with the dumbest Artificial Intelligence a computer programmer (Weaver's day job) ever created, wakes the whole family, and a small war ensues. The mutants, when they're not playing 4000-year-old rock music or discussing equally elderly video programs, shrug off bullets, antitank rockets, and nuclear weapons with Godzilla-like ease. Happily, these indestructible immortals, inhabitants of a razed planet that couldn't possibly have a breathable atmosphere, remain fertile with mere Grant girls. Tiffany and her cousins get knocked up, just in time for the great starship finale. But wait, that's not how the story goes. The story, in a "multiple POV within a letter within a letter to siblings" framework pioneered by Mary W. Shelley, is told by Tiffany's kid, Daniel, as the child's escape pod drifts back to Earth. Daniel writes Mom's tale on toilet paper tubes that he exchanges somehow with the pods of three other kids who survive the belt with asteroids. Did I mention hair and fingernails that continue to grow throughout those millennia of cryogenic suspension? Well, let's throw that in here -- a model of Weaver's smooth transitions. Control seems the major theme, yet Weaver and his editor clearly have none. Those of us who know that "Rubicon" is a proper noun are made cross by the random sprinkling of names like Cocteau, Coleridge, Aristotle, and Satre, while the really heavy references are to contemporary movies. Avoid this derivative pretension. -- Dean R. Lambe ------ End ------