Ancestral Night, by Elizabeth Bear (Saga)
This is a long,
fascinating space opera in a far distant future in which humans manipulate
their emotional moods and attitudes, AI shipbrains have dreams and social
obligations, sentient squid-whales live in the vast interstellar spaces, and
ancient alien technology holds the key to artificial gravity.
The story begins
when Haimey Dz, engineer and scavenger of space wreckage, her pilot, Connla,
and their shipbrain, Singer, act on a tip and come across an abandoned,
repurposed space vessel (see above alien tech) that has been harvesting the
corpse of a squid-whale (see above) to manufacture a costly and highly
addictive drug. No sooner does Haimey realize (a) this is a moral outrage as
well as a crime; (b) OMG there is artificial gravity here!; (c) she’s been
infected with what looks like a glowing fungus-like parasite (see alien tech,
above), but (d) aieee! The space pirates arrive to nab their prize.
One thing leads to
another as the glowing fungus-like parasite grants Haimey the ability to sense,
and eventually communicate with, said alien ships, and the charismatic and
amoral female space pirate pushes Haimey to confront her own anguished past.
Meanwhile, Haimey wrestled with her programmed adherence to mutual collective
responsibility, teams up with a gigantic sentient mantis-like alien law
enforcement officer from a low-gravity planet, Singer gets summoned to a term
of civil duty, and the cats – did I mention the cats? There are two cats on
their ship.
As I said, the book
is long but filled with action and reflection that say as much about the
different ways of looking at self vs society as they do about Haimey’s
long-buried sense of self. It’s all fascinating, if a bit sedate in places, until
the pieces start coming together. Then the parts I had previously found slow
made brilliant sense and I couldn’t put the book down until the exciting and
immensely satisfying conclusion. I say this as an advisory to other readers to
hang in there: every piece is there for a reason, and it is richly worth the
ride. Ancestral Night is in turns
dramatic, thoughtful, humorous, hopeful, and tragic. From the government ship
name, I’ll Explain It To You Slowly
to the weird and wonderful artificial mind that has wrapped itself around a
dying sun, to everything I’ve mentioned above, the book is as much about how we
balance individual choices with the greater good, all tied up with a big ribbon
and two cats. Worth savoring, and re-reading.
The usual disclaimer: I received a review copy of this book,
but no one bribed me to say anything in particular about it. Although, come to
think of it, fine imported chocolates and roses might have been nice.
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