J.S. Fields

Author & Scientist

Review: Peacemaker by E.M. Hamill

This is a review for the second book in a series. You can read the review for the first book here.

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: nonbinary/f, nonbinary/m

Queer Representation: nonbinary

Warnings: violence, gore

Review

The attack did not stop at nightfall. The sunset truce lay shattered, the hour of the goddess defiled.

Dalí is once again tapped to play negotiator in this action-packed sequel to DALÍ. Recalled from their undercover op by the Remoliad security council, Dalí is asked to look into events related to Ursetu’s emergency petition to join the Reoliad. Their crown princess has died, leaving only the queen and grandson alive. Her death is deemed an attack by the Shontavians–genetically engineered mercenaries considered nonsentient by their creators.

Was it a directed killing or a botched group assignation? Was the Shontavian breeding and engineering facility attacked as well, or did the creatures plan their own escape? Either way, Shontavians are on the loose, a monarchy’s line of ascension is in trouble, and Dalí seems to the only negotiator anyone can agree on.

Dalí, unfortunately, is still battling personal demons. They’re back on their addictive vape, which almost cost a friend their life. They’re still haunted by the murder of their husband and wife. Rage comes so, so easily to them, as does passion. But compassion, both to themself and those around them, is a skill Dalí must learn if they are to negotiate for the royal line and the Shontavian, who are much, much more than they seem.

Fans of sci-fi action, bio-engineering morality questions, and fast pacing will enjoy PEACEMAKER. Readers are thrust directly into the action that does not let up until the end, journeying from mines to addition, to violent fights, to passionate alley sex.

Although technically a space opera, the book paces more as military sci fi, with little time spent on character development (relying on book one’s work) and focusing almost solely on plot. It is for this reason that I failed to connect as deeply with PEACEMAKER as I did with DALÍ. There’s action, yes, and politics, yes, but the heart seemed to be missing that had so entranced me in book one. Dalí doesn’t connect so much as they fight–everything–which is plot relevant but also not a strong way to hook readers looking for sympathetic protagonists.

The biggest emotional connections come from the Shontavians and the complexity of their bioengineering. Their development, history, and mythology are breathtaking both in simplicity and effect. Their training will crush you. Their dreams will destroy you. How Dalí negotiates for them, and their eventual solution, is both perfect and deeply moving.

E.M. Hamill’s trademark humor is still present in PEACEMAKER, though somewhat more buried:

“You get off on this, don’t you?” I accused her.

“I want your body. For experiments, anyway. Shut up and close your eyes.”

And of course, the representation presented by Dalí, of a blend between intersex and nonbinary (Dalí can change their sexual anatomy and hormone profile at will, which drags their gender along with it. This makes them both gender fluid and sex fluid, though Dalí identifies as third gender, and defaults to a sexless state when among friends) is very well done:

In the warmth and vibration, I shuddered as the last of the physical characteristics I’d adapted to pass as male shifted back into my neutral, sexless state. My crewmates didn’t expect me to assume a gender, something for which I remained grateful. Without hormone stimulation to drive the change, the process was more painful, and my shoulders complained against the grind of bone and muscle.

As an intersex person with hormone fluctuations that physically impact how my body showcases my secondary (and sometimes primary) sex characteristics, I found Dalí’s explanations of the hormone surges and accompanying body changes very relatable (though of course extended out for sci fi), and appreciated how the mental gender moved but didn’t necessarily change as a result. For that reason alone, this book is an excellent read. Representation matters, and there is too little in the intersex world, especially at the intersection of intersex and nonbinary.

You can pick yourself a nice genital set and decide some intergalactic ethics in paperback here or ebook here.

Review: The Dreaming Stars by Tim Pratt

This is a review for the second book in a series. To read the review for THE WRONG STARS, click here

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: f/f, m/nonbinary

Queer Representation: cis pansexual/bisexual (unclear), nonbinary

Warnings: space lesbian delight!

Review

The crew of the White Raven returns! Still coming down from the high of taking out an Axiom facility, there’s some emotional cleanup to do.  Elena’s onetime friend and definite megalomaniac Sebastian has to be de-brain spidered, Callie has a funeral to attend (her own), and they all need a job. Of course said job takes them into Axiom territory where they discover the hilarious truth of the galactic overlords and what they’re doing in their stasis capsules of death and destruction.

THE DREAMING STARS is the second book in the Axiom series, and, predictably, has a slower start than the first as emotional cleanup needs to happen after the shattering revelations in THE WRONG STARS. The action doesn’t take off until the back quarter of the book when the crew finds an actually inhabited Axiom station and a swarm of murderbots that are attempting to eat the galaxy. There’s some intrigue in the ship as well, with a funny shimmer that keeps stalking Callie that no one else can see.

Although the action part of the book is at the very end, the first three quarters of the book are not wasted on filler and fluff. THE DREAMING STARS is a true middle bridge book, and spends much needed time expanding Callie’s character in particular, as well as ‘I’m-going-to-kill-you-in-seventy-ways’ Sebastian, and cyborg Ashok.

Elena doesn’t get as much screen time as I would have liked, but there are numerous scenes between her and Callie that are beyond adorable, and it is the build up of that relationship, in particular, that kept me engaged with the narrative. It’s rare in a space opera (outside of THE LONG WAY TO A SMALL, ANGRY PLANET) that we actually get to remain in romance spaces after the pair has gotten together. The pacing of THE DREAMING STARS gave the relationship between Elena and Callie time to breath and develop, and the sidebar adventure where Callie goes to her own funeral and Elena chats with Callie’s ex-husband is priceless.

As with THE WRONG STARS, there is plenty witty space opera banter that gives that television feel to the book (really, Witty Banter should be a full on space opera trope if it isn’t already). In fact, the best banter is usually between Callie and Elena, and serves to give us glimpses into their relationship. Some favorites:

(Remember: Elena is the one who was in cryosleep for 500 years)

Callie frowned. She’d heard of New York–it was a common setting in historical fiction, like Rome and Constantinople and Paris–but… “What’s New Jersey?”

“New Jersey! Just across the river from New York, but a million kilometers away culturally? Butt of endless jokes? Their state bird is an inferiority complex?”

“Huh?” Callie said. “Before my time. It’s probably part of the Eastern Innundated Area now. They do scuba tours to look at the submerged ruins.”

“Ugh. The future is the worst. Nobody gets my jokes.”

“Truly you bring us the wisdom of the ancients.”

“Ancients, huh? I am young and vigorous. You’re the one who tapped out last night.”

(and another. Remember again, Elena went into cryosleep before humanity really colonized anything outside of Earth)

“We may be eaten by space monsters.”

“Yes, but before that happens, I will get to stand on another planet.” Elena snuggled in closer. “We should have sex on Ganymede. And then we should have sex on Owain. We should collect various celestial bodies. I like collecting things.”

You can get your own access to the Axiom’s war games here in paperback and here in ebook here.

Review: Yule Planet by Angel Martinez

Genre: science fiction (novella)

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian, nonbinary, cis male

Warnings: none

Review

Sofia can’t wait for her exciting vacation to Yule Planet – a Christmas wonderland of snow and ancient traditions. During transport to the planet, however, a malfunction in her pod maroons her in an isolated snow drift. The ‘natives’–convicts on work release–rescue her but they’ve got to finish their run before they can take her back to the resort and her long awaited vacation. Much hilarity and mayhem ensues, as well as a sweet romance.

YULE PLANET is another holiday novella by Angela Martinez, who got on my radar after I read SAFETY PROTOCOLS FOR HUMAN HOLIDAYS. YULE PLANET lacks some of the humor of SAFETY, but has much more adventure and fun, feathery dinosaur pets. The romance, as always, is well paced, and the sex scene satisfying without bogging down the short narrative.

There’s an added dimension to this book that comes from Sofia’s background as a logistics accountant and the management of the Yule Planet corporation, lends excellent tension to what could have been a simple romance plotline (not that I don’t enjoy a simple romance, mind). Helping reform a problematic organization, getting to ride a tame and pet-like chionisaurs, a hot make-out scene in a small shower–all blends together into another delightful and fluffy holiday short.

You can book your own vacation package on Yule planet in ebook here and paperback here. Chionisaur rides extra.

Review: The Green and the Growing by Erin K. Wagner

Genre: science fiction (novella)

Pairings: none

Queer Representation: nonbinary: agender

Warnings: violence against nonbinary protagonist

 

Review

(this blurb is from the back of the book)

In this intriguing tale of the clash of two worlds and cultures, Miquita, one of the forty-two daughters of Commander Hritrar, is sent to the Rburuii after their defeat at her father’s hands. Hampered by diplomatic etiquette and a thoroughly alien culture, Miquita struggles to understand the destruction her father has leveled against the cities and orchards that depend on a failing artificial intelligence. Can she help repair the terrible damage her father’s forces have inflicted. Perhaps more importantly, should she?

More concisely, Miquita, privileged daughter of a military general on an alien world, gets dumped on the city her father just conquered for Reasons. A sheltered woman, her heart bleeds for the harsh way the conquered people were treated and she seeks to help them (and succeeds… probably. Up to interpretation).

There’s hints of a white savior narrative in here–not enough to try to deconstruct it but enough to set a reader on edge (this is not a blonde woman leading brown slaves to freedom ala George R.R. Martin). The blurb sets the book up as a pretty standard sci fi morality exploration, but feels tone deaf in too many areas. The issues likely stem from both the narrative voice and the constrained length of the book (‘Conversation Pieces’ is a novella series by Aqueduct Press), the former of which would have benefitted from a sensitivity read or two.

While the book has a decent foundation and good heart, there are some fundamental worldbuilding problems. Miquita’s people have a high infant mortality rate and therefore have very large families, but without more information on the why’s of the mortality (water resources and sun are hinted at but not explained), this remains confusing. In Earth species, high birth rates are associated with high infant mortality, but that’s usually also due to high predation or lack of parental rearing. Introducing new alien species with variants on this known trend generally requires some extra world build with explanation, which is not given in THE GREEN AND THE GROWING. Alone, this one lost fact wouldn’t be so problematic. However as other missing world components add up, it creates a narrative riddled with holes–plot and otherwise.

The most concerning element in the book is the dialogue around Ria. The following contains lines from the book that may be upsetting to some readers, especially intersex and nonbinary people. Proceed with caution.

Ria was one of the unsexed, a dancer from the equatorial steppes, where the scorching heat and other environmental conditions affected biology at birth. 

…

When my father asked her to, Ria underwent the procedure to become female, so that she could bear children to him.

While the greater narrative is ambitious and potentially very interesting (people becoming trees is a favorite of mine), the entire novella is clouded by Ria’s use and abuse by Miquita and her father. The author does an excellent job of showing Ria’s discomfort in how she was used by both the father and daughter, but this narrative arc is never brought to fruition. It paints the father as a villain, although he needed little help in that arena, but only furthers the problematic nature of Miquita as the doe-eyed, privileged woman trying to fix a problem she doesn’t understand, from a perspective that isn’t necessarily wanted.

Especially problematic is how Ria’s gender/sex is described, how she herself is described as being, quite literally, nothing:

“I miss being nothing,” she said one day when the sun was high in the sky.

…

“Before the Commander,” she said, “I was nothing. Not child-bearer. Not child-giver.”

…

“And he asked me to join his household, to change my nothing for something.”

…

“What your father asks cannot be denied.” She finally dropped her hands to her lap. “You must understand this.”

Ria, then, was taken from her people and her land, forced to undergo a surgery to make her capable of having children, and then used basically as a brood mare. Not only does Miquita fail to understand the gravity of this issue (only as it relates to her being sent off world to be a peacekeeper), but the narrative voice tells a more disturbing story–Ria was nothing. Not having the ability to bear children or give children is worth nothing in this society, even though Ria was, is, a gifted dancer to her people.

Obviously, this is not how any part of the nonbinary spectrum (or intersex conditions) works. Agender people and/or intersex people (again, the narrative is not clear what we are dealing with) are not nothing, and to imply such without strong narrative rebuttal, is potentially very damaging.

Even if all the mechanisms were in place to use Ria’s story as allegory for Miquita, the trope of relying on queer pain to teach privileged mainstream people lessons about morality and goodness is, at the very best, overplayed. Ria deserved to be a three-dimensional character, too, not just a prop for Miquita and her wandering towards partial enlightenment.

The book is a short enough read, and some readers will likely be hooked by the A.I. to trees sections. The ending is inevitable but still interesting, and some of the imagery and worldbuilding is fairly engaging.

If you’re curious to read more about Miquita’s transformation, you can pick up the paperback here and the ebook here.

Review: A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers

This is a review for the second in a series. To read book one, A LONG WAY TO A SMALL, ANGRY PLANET, click here.

 

Genre: science fiction (space opera)

Pairings: none

Queer Representation: gender fluid

Warnings: none

 

Review

Picking up right where THE LONG WAY TO A SMALL, ANGRY PLANET left off, Lovey, the sentient AI, is in her new body and not having a good time. We follow her journey to understanding herself and her new housing, along with her friends/guardians Pepper and Blue.

As with LONG WAY, there isn’t an immediate through line to this book. Instead, we hop between (mostly) Pepper and Sidra’s (Lovey’s new name) POV and their day-to-day interactions. Sidra learns about being human and being limited by having just two eyes and a limited memory, meets a gender fluid alien who kind of gets her, has a disastrous tattoo experience, and really fleshes out the struggles of Lovelace in book one.

Most of Pepper’s POV is from the past, wherein we learn about Pepper being raised by another sentient AI, Owl, on a craptastic world. Pepper is a genetically engineered girl–only one chromosome–and was bred to sort scrap in a factory and never see the sky. Her compelling backstory (my absolute favorite part of the book) sets the stage for how she interacts with Sidra, and allows for a plot to finally coalesce in the back quarter of the book, where the four characters–Blue, Pepper, Sidra, and Sidra’s new friend Tak–break into a museum to try to steal Owl out of the ship that has become her tomb.

This book didn’t have the same level of science in it as did LONG WAY, but the mod speak and pseudo forum-Discord-chat board lingo is spot on. As with LONG WAY, the characters are dynamic and three dimensional, and you can’t help but love all of them. Chamber’s hallmark is character development and character interactions, and both shine through in ORBIT.

As always, there is plenty of solid queer rep. Tak (an Aeluon, a species with four genders) is particularly well done, and the discussion of how Tak changes genders, and the hormones and cultural norms around that and Tak’s entire species, is utterly fascinating. Pepper is a nice inclusion for intersex rep, though hers comes through genetic engineering and not biological diversity.

The strongest parts of the book are the human(alien)/AI interactions. Pepper’s relationship with Owl is completely child and mother, and absolutely breathtaking as Pepper tries to navigate isolation and survival and puberty. Pepper’s relationship with Sidra walks that awkward friend/caretaker role, but Pepper’s compassion for AIs, stemming from her upbringing, is organic. Their arguments pull the reader from both sides, and the resulting tension keeps the book moving forward without any need for a plot.

Some other fun notes

It’s the attention to detail that always makes Chamber’s books stand out. A CLOSED AND COMMON ORBIT includes in-text AI user manuals, chatroom dialogue, and a bunch of other fun snippets that build the world:

Yes, you can have sex! You’ve got all the parts for it, and unless you’re coupling with an expert physician who spends a lot of time looking at your bits under good light (hey, to each their own), no one will be able to tell the difference. But before you get to it, please do plenty of research about health sexual relationships and proper consent. Ideally, ask a friend for advice. Similar to the recommendation about hand washing, you should also practise good hygiene and disease prevention practices for the same of your partner. There’s no guarantee that xyr imubots are up to date.

Which leads me to my next favorite part – the use of ‘xe’ and ‘xyr’ when you don’t know someone’s gender, or when they are not a ‘he’ or a ‘she’. Fantastic neopronoun, and used perfectly in text.

The Big Bug Crew. I just… the sims and their descriptions and Pepper’s connection to them are just so perfect. I know The Big Bug Crew. After reading this book I would play that sim and buy those toys. That’s how deeply affected I was by Pepper’s reactions to and time with the sim.

While the first book in the Wayfarer series wasn’t a strong favorite, A CLOSED AND COMMON ORBIT was an easy and emotional read. It can be read as a standalone or as the second in the series, and is a must read for lovers of character-driven space opera.

Get your own sentient AI system (illegal, of course, but still cool) here in print, here in audio, or here in ebook.

Read the review for the first in the series, THE LONG WAY TO A SMALL, ANGRY PLANET, here.

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