This book is as much a sequel as a prequel to The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, or, better, neither of these but something that happens in the same universe. The protagonists appear in the first book only briefly, and whatever happens with them now has little to do with Wayfarer and its crew, and all the better for that. With fewer and better-developed characters, the novel is noticeably tighter and more interesting than The Long Way. Who could think that AI named Sidra (I wonder what’s her favourite drink is) would ever be interested in getting some ink? In one of the chapters called Sidra (there are many and they are not numbered — get used to it), Sidra manages to fool not only her human friends but also the reader. (OK, I confess, she fooled me. I had to re-read that chapter.)
The best parts, in my opinion, are the least sci-fi ones but those that deal with human experiences. For example, this: 19-year-old Jane tastes spices for the first time in her life.
Inside the cupboard were dozens of little jars and bottles, all labelled with words she could read but didn’t recognise. Crushberry leaf. Ground huptum. River salt. She didn’t understand.
Jane stared at the hard little clumps. This . . . wasn’t food. She didn’t know what this was. She sniffed it. Her sinuses shot open in response. Timidly, she stuck out her tongue and dabbed up a few of the mysterious grains.
Her mouth exploded, but oh, stars, in such a good way. Everything was hot and sharp, but delicious, too, and smoky and dry and — and like nothing she’d ever tasted. Nothing ever. She licked up the rest, not caring about the pain that came with it. The pain almost made it better, in a weird way. Her eyes watered and her nose cleared. She was the most awake she’d felt in days.
Rather disappointingly for such a good start and middle, when two quasi-parallel stories — one in the past, another in the present — finally meet, a rather predictable happy end follows suit.
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