One of the things that irked me most about Halo: Cryptum was that it lacked a necessary human element. It was so mired in Forerunner jargon and rarified worldbuilding that it lacked the sort of lived-in soul that is present in almost every other piece of Halo fiction, game, comic, or otherwise. Cryptum’s sterile yet dusty tale of treasure hunting and tragedy was interesting, but not gripping; it was high adventure, but not dangerous. Greg Bear’s follow up, titled Primordium, is a much better novel in almost every regard. Shame it suffers from the Two Towers syndrome, though.
Primordium snatches the Point of View torch away from Bornstellar, the foolish young Forerunner forced to mutate into the Didact, and plants it in the capable hands of Chakas, the young earthling who was sucked into the whole Forerunner collapse along with Bornstellar. Chakas is a brooding, angry chum whose geas (a vision, or set of visions, implanted in him by the notorious Forerunner called “The Librarian”) has him constantly on edge. During the first book his geas was just a series of bad memories relating the tragic outcome of a war ten thousand years past. However, it becomes more willful during the course of the novel, developing a distinct personality and agenda in a relationship that will be quite familiar to Halo fans: that of the brooding personality forced to deal with the ego living in their head. Master Chief and Cortana, except in this case, the bloke living in Chakas’ head is actually bound to his DNA and deep-set in his brain.
As with Cryptum, the scientific prowess of the Forerunner is such that it becomes ridiculous to bother considering. It’s magic, folks, Bertrand Russel and all; thankfully the concept of living with someone much smarter but less capable is not foreign to fans. Or, at least, not as foreign as the janky Forerunner worldbuilding that was foisted on us in the previous novel. The developing relationship of Chakas and the Lord of Admirals is a key point of the novel; Primordium shares many similar themes with Cryptum, chiefly among them submission to destiny. Chakas can’t stop the Lord of Admirals from showing him things, from explaining things, and he can hardly control it on the few occasions when the alter-ego tries to seize control of Chakas’ body. However, where Cryptum was about the responsibility to society, to doing what’s right no matter the risks, Primordium is much more personal. This is, quite simply, a novel of survival and searching for one’s friend.
It opens with Chakas having crash-landed on one of the Master Builder’s Halo Rings immediately following the climactic closure of its predecessor. Missing are Bornstellar, the Didact, and Chakas’ only other human comrade, the hobbit-like Riser. Terrified that Riser might be in danger, Chakas sets out on a quest to find his companion, paying no heed to the dangers he encounters along the way. His singleminded quest is demonstrative in allowing the Lord of Admirals to develop and provide the reader with wonderfully worked in tidbits of history and mechanics; it even goes so far as to dabble in sociology and anthropology. But what surprised me most about this book was its remarkably different tone from that of Cryptum, which was so devoid of danger that it felt almost sterile and lifeless; by comparison, Primordium is claustrophobically dangerous, well-populated with horrors fit to bear the Halo monicker, and, in the end, memorable. I can remember MUCH more of Primordium than I can of Cryptum, and I’ve read Cryptum TWICE. Staying is power is a great judge of character, as you well know; in this second entry, Bear brings it.
Now, well-read SF fans might have recognized some similarity shared between Primordium and Larry Niven’s seminal Ringworld. You’d be correct. In fact, it isn’t much of a stretch to say that Primordium takes some of the most interesting aspects of Ringworld and its immediate sequel, Ringworld Engineers, and uses them to construct a Halo narrative. Indeed, we’ve got the hapless, helpless crew crashing down. We’ve got a narrator who doesn’t really understand the severity of his situation because critical information is always being withheld. We’ve got lots of talk about impossible machinery, and enough jargon to make a man wish for some simple tanjin’ language. There’s the inevitable search for companions, the discovery of ignorant but charming(?) natives with strange cultures who have no real knowledge of what sort of world they live on. Present are the trip to the place where the ringworld’s material has been laid bare, to abandoned cities (though the Halo’s isn’t compacted with garbage), and, of course, the rush to save the ringworld from imminent collapse. Don’t forget that the main characters are so far beneath the mysterious creators (Forerunner, Pak, who can tell the difference? Neither have noses!) that they can’t see the purpose or grand scale. Primordium is a Ringworld Lite, I think. But is that a good thing?
I’m not sure, to be honest, but the above sentiment was what I came away from it feeling. I’m a HUGE Ringworld fan; I’ve read the first book three or four times and the entire series (including the awful Ringworld Throne) twice. In fact, I got into Ringworld because of Halo, so I’ve always been well-cognizant of the connection the two share, and I think I’m quite pleased to see it so blatantly acknowledged. Bear does a good job of it, too. Like Luis Wu, Chakas has to work out how to understand directions, how to survive when good food isn’t at hand. In fact, Bear does a better job of that than Niven’s cadre. None of the Primordium gang has an auto-doc or replicator that can make food from any material provided; they don’t have flying transport. Indeed, they don’t even have shoes! Bear does a superb job in making ever-present the claustrophobic tension of surviving on a flimsy ribbon in space where human reason and comprehension are so unreliable that wanderers might as well break down and follow their gut.
This, of course, is literal; much of the book is spent with the readers following one character’s geas, which “pulls” her in the right direction. Having nothing better to ride hopes on, and some experience with the infallibility of the Librarian’s strange geas, Chakas follows along with it. This is perhaps the one real point of criticism that I have with the novel; it does seem meandering and aimless, and often (this is the Two Towers Syndrome: overlong and aimless). It’s also another point that mirrors Ringworld and a common complaint about Niven’s novel, too. However, Bear smartly plays with the rules of the Librarian’s geas as a plot device, which allows for the introduction of some horror into the novel. Through Chakas’ eyes we see plenty of Flood-based nightmares, and we catch a glimpse of the bizarre, beetle-like Primordial for which the book takes its name.
It strikes me that having a central enemy was a wise decision for Primodium; a lack of focused enmity was strongly felt in Cryptum, with no clear cause for Bornstellar et. al. to unite against. The presence of the Primordial, a Lovecraftian horror from the depths of space, gives us a clear point of gravity to “get the hell away from” for the obvious reasons: It delights in suffering and terror and its presence spells death for all in its thrall.
I admit to being quite skeptical going into Primordium after the disappointment I felt with Cryptum’s mediocrity. I’m used to my Halo books being vibrant and full of action and life, if not stellar quality of prose. Cryptum traded bombast for a well-written narrative at, I think, severe cost. Thankfully, Primordium, with all of its meandering, is a better book. Bear rattles the chains of the trilogy, summoning the troops for a wonderful homage to Niven’s Ringworld books and spins a soulful, human story about tragedy, discovery, and the nature of wisdom at the same time. The restoration of perspective to a human focal point is a massive change for the positive, and the installation of the Primordium as a true villain is, I think, going to be very helpful going into the final arc of the trilogy. If you’re a Halo fan and you made it through Cryptum, I really recommend continuing into Primordium. And if you’ve already read Primordium, may I suggest Ringworld?