These books are remarkable—and somehow, Hellburner manages to surpass Heavy Time. I understand that these are prequels to the Hugo Award-winning Downbelow Station, which is supposedly an even greater achievement, but we'll see. These two novels are a triumph in their own right, radiating a mastery and intellect that are simply breathtaking.
The stories unfold along three main strands:
First, there's an unfortunate young man who starts out by getting into mischief as a teenager and seems doomed to pay for it for the rest of his life—moving from one injustice to another—until an elusive chance for redemption...
Ben Pollard was trying to stay alive and stay out of the war, that was what he’d been doing. Ben Pollard was back on helldeck, the bubble had burst, and what turned up but Sal Aboujib, the Fleet’s own damnable doing, screw the bastard who was responsible for this—
Hell, when it came down to it, Dekker was responsible for it, it didn’t matter the UDC and the Fleet had gotten their shot in, Dekker could reach out from the hereafter and screw his life up with one little touch, the way he’d screwed Cory Salazar’s—way he’d screwed the program up—
Off chance that part wasn’t his fault, but you didn’t protect yourself by figuring a mess of this magnitude that Dekker just happened to be in the middle of — didn’t have Dekker’s fingerprints all over it. Wasn’t that the guy necessarily did anything, he didn’t have to do it, he just was. Like gravity and infall, things went wrong in his vicinity...
Then there's the politics, and the corporate power that poisons it all. The exhausting, uncompromising, and oh-so-realistic way Cherryh depicts this—and the immediate and potentially disastrous consequences it has for the protagonists and their world—is a remarkable feat. It's truly something to behold.
It's worth noting that these books were published in 1991 and 1992. Corporate power wasn't what it is today, yet Cherryh already portrays it with uncanny precision. It's as prophetic as it gets...
The conservatives mere are in fear for their lives over the radical resurgence. And that promotes Company hardliners, like Bertrand Muller. Muller is for the war, incidentally. He wants us to ‘recover Cyteen.’
“My God.”
“He calls it a colony. What do you want? He’s ninety years old, he formed his current opinion on his fortieth birthday, and he says the Company police who fired on the rab were defending civilized values.”
“We’re in the hands of lunatics.”
“Of financiers. Far worse.”
“He can’t be the one to take the controls. That name can’t be prominent in this program.—Have you no comprehension?”
“Senator, political decisions in crew choice caused the last disaster to this program. And I can’t believe I’m hearing this all over again.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing from the junior command officer on this base. I can’t believe your persistence in putting this man into the glare of publicity..."
“Then why in hell haven’t we been using it all along? Why spring it now? Why this whole damned, accident-riddled program?”
“Politics, sir.”
“He’s too politically sensitive. It’s already too public. God! Why do you people persist in shoving this man in our faces? Are you actively challenging the legislature?”
He shook his head. “Your creativity, sir, with all respect. Any choice made on political and not operational grounds reduces this ship’s chances of survival. If this test fails, the EC has no alternative and no further resources to offer us...”
Finally, to balance out this terrible world — where everything, including the very odds of survival, is stacked against everyone by a corporate-controlled political system — there’s human decency, solidarity, and love, however grudgingly it manifests, a powerful counterpoint to the surrounding darkness.
Inevitably, some aspects are irredeemably dated. Surprisingly—technical details aside—this includes the portrayal of the feminine condition. Or at least that was my impression, but hey, this is what Jo Walton opines (in What Makes This Book So Great): These are great feminist novels. There are women in them who succeed on their own merits and yet are questioned because they are women. They’re not in a magically non-sexist future. They’re accused of making it by “whoring around on Helldeck,” to which one of them replies, “You a virgin, Mitch? Didn’t think so.” So, there's this.