Aquarius Rising: The Complete Trilogy, by Brian Burt, JAN 2023 LTER
DiskuteraReviews of Early Reviewers Books
Bara medlemmar i LibraryThing kan skriva.
1LyndaInOregon
Disclaimer: An electronic copy of this book was provided in exchange for review by the author, via Library Thing.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Burt sets things up quickly here for a dystopian science-fiction trilogy that weighs in at nearly 800 pages in e-format, but he has a lot of territory to cover.
In a future where global warming and climate change have rendered most of the Earth’s landmass uninhabitable, there now exist multiple humanoid races – original humans clinging to life in the polar regions, and genetically altered races taking up other niches. Some have devolved into lizard-like primitives, some live underground, and some live as aquatic mammals courtesy of a designer virus that randomly mutated roughly ten percent of the human population and equipped them to become ocean-dwellers. Now an embittered land-dweller, head of a splinter group called the Redeemers, thinks he has found a way to scrub excess carbon dioxide from the air, but it involves releasing gas-trapping nanomechs into the ocean. The resulting chemical reaction appears efficient, but it is deadly to the ocean-dwelling Aquarians.
Thus the conflict is set in motion, with characters from Human, Aquarian, and Talpidian societies joining forces to stop a “cure” that may ultimately be worse than the disease. Some of the motivations are a bit hazy here – one wonders why the underground-dwelling Talpidians choose to assist the Aquarians – but their solution is spectacular.
It’s not a spoiler to say that the immediate threat is dealt with in Book One, In the Tears of God. This is a trilogy, after all, so readers familiar with the form know that happy-ever-after isn’t in the cards quite yet.
The second book, Blood Tide, chronicles attempts by an Aquarian faction to reach accord with the Redeemers and alter the nanomechs to do their job without endangering ocean life. Not everyone on the reef wants to make nice with the Redeemers, and the chief obstacle is embodied in a grief-maddened Aquarian bent on revenge. Burt does a great job of avoiding the middle-section-slump that so often besets trilogies. Blood Tide is far more than just the bridging segment between problem and resolution and stands well on its own, bringing additional characters and genetically-modified species into play.
There are some very original ideas here, including that of semi-sentient “living reefs”, and the casting of Orcans as the veritable Hell’s Angels of the Pacific. On the downside, the issue that set the whole trilogy off – a terrestrial cure that would destroy life in the oceans -- seems to be so ecologically unsound that not even the raging megalomania attributed to the villain can make it sound like a good idea to anybody. In addition, the breakneck pace of the first two segments can create a reader fatigue so intense that one may have to put the work aside for a while, just to let the story elements settle in.
Burt then pulls an about-face with the final volume, The Price of Eden, essentially changing the game plan from field hockey to chess, as his characters strive for a resolution with equal parts diplomacy, espionage, and blood-letting. (Okay, maybe it’s not totally chess.) It can sometimes be tricky to figure out who is going to double-cross whom, but the smart money is on … everybody.
Fans of dystopian tales looking for a culture that is not merely a clone of the world we know will fall on this trilogy with great relish. Just be aware that it’s not meant to be devoured all in one gulp. Not even the Orcans are capable of that.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Burt sets things up quickly here for a dystopian science-fiction trilogy that weighs in at nearly 800 pages in e-format, but he has a lot of territory to cover.
In a future where global warming and climate change have rendered most of the Earth’s landmass uninhabitable, there now exist multiple humanoid races – original humans clinging to life in the polar regions, and genetically altered races taking up other niches. Some have devolved into lizard-like primitives, some live underground, and some live as aquatic mammals courtesy of a designer virus that randomly mutated roughly ten percent of the human population and equipped them to become ocean-dwellers. Now an embittered land-dweller, head of a splinter group called the Redeemers, thinks he has found a way to scrub excess carbon dioxide from the air, but it involves releasing gas-trapping nanomechs into the ocean. The resulting chemical reaction appears efficient, but it is deadly to the ocean-dwelling Aquarians.
Thus the conflict is set in motion, with characters from Human, Aquarian, and Talpidian societies joining forces to stop a “cure” that may ultimately be worse than the disease. Some of the motivations are a bit hazy here – one wonders why the underground-dwelling Talpidians choose to assist the Aquarians – but their solution is spectacular.
It’s not a spoiler to say that the immediate threat is dealt with in Book One, In the Tears of God. This is a trilogy, after all, so readers familiar with the form know that happy-ever-after isn’t in the cards quite yet.
The second book, Blood Tide, chronicles attempts by an Aquarian faction to reach accord with the Redeemers and alter the nanomechs to do their job without endangering ocean life. Not everyone on the reef wants to make nice with the Redeemers, and the chief obstacle is embodied in a grief-maddened Aquarian bent on revenge. Burt does a great job of avoiding the middle-section-slump that so often besets trilogies. Blood Tide is far more than just the bridging segment between problem and resolution and stands well on its own, bringing additional characters and genetically-modified species into play.
There are some very original ideas here, including that of semi-sentient “living reefs”, and the casting of Orcans as the veritable Hell’s Angels of the Pacific. On the downside, the issue that set the whole trilogy off – a terrestrial cure that would destroy life in the oceans -- seems to be so ecologically unsound that not even the raging megalomania attributed to the villain can make it sound like a good idea to anybody. In addition, the breakneck pace of the first two segments can create a reader fatigue so intense that one may have to put the work aside for a while, just to let the story elements settle in.
Burt then pulls an about-face with the final volume, The Price of Eden, essentially changing the game plan from field hockey to chess, as his characters strive for a resolution with equal parts diplomacy, espionage, and blood-letting. (Okay, maybe it’s not totally chess.) It can sometimes be tricky to figure out who is going to double-cross whom, but the smart money is on … everybody.
Fans of dystopian tales looking for a culture that is not merely a clone of the world we know will fall on this trilogy with great relish. Just be aware that it’s not meant to be devoured all in one gulp. Not even the Orcans are capable of that.
