I know I gave this three stars, and it kinda didn't work for me as a whole. But let me first say that I have so much admiration for Ann Aguirre. She does so many things with her characters I appreciate. For one, this series is apparently based on erotic encounters involving aliens with non-human genitalia with precedents in the animal kingdom. I am fascinated and I will definitely read all of them based on that premise alone. I love that she has such overt consent built into her dialogue, and that her couple dynamics are cozily low-conflict. In Love Code, the "dark moment" from a relationship standpoint is the hero trying to send the heroine back to her home planet for her own good. The heroine's adorable pet stamps her feet in protest because she loves the hero too, and the heroine tells the hero she doesn't want him to leave her, upon which he immediately changes his mind. This is cute and fluffy AF, but also so bold, that she dares to be so tender-hearted with her characters, that she refrains from amplifying relationship conflicts for the sake of drama.
BUT. This just didn't have the spark of Strange Love. And I think it's because the relationship is founded on these rapidly changing stakes, where one obstacle is resolved only to be replaced with another impediment? And so is the external conflict, and together it's really a lot going on without clarity? To summarize, we start with Helix the AI from Strange Love waking up in an enfleshed body rather than a mechanically constructed one. He goes through a bit of "gah what even is a body?" (A theme to which we'll return later). But mostly it's like a montage of learning to move in meat space where he just immediately accepts this reality without missing his past AI manifestation - conveniently, he also has a case of amnesia about most of his past which make him come across as rather blank. Then the conflict is that the heroine scientist Qualu who transferred his code to a Tiralian body finds him super hot because she made him that way. But oh no, she can't fall in love with her lab experiment because ethical boundaries and his right to self-determination (which, good for her). Then the conflict is that her four moms have to not find out he's a lab experiment so he's pretending to be her romantic partner. Then it's that municipal authorities are on the hunt for Helix and they have to outwit them. Then a bounty hunter is, and they have to escape to a safer planet.
Then when they're safely on Planet Waterworld, Helix finds out that he's got amnesia because of a partitioned drive which he has because he did some crimes to save a kid from captivity (last book's super dark plot was murder and eugenics; here it's child enslavement, which, eek). Oh no, and then the lab-bred algae-eater some scientists have released to clean up pollution has awoken some kind of kraken monster. Which actually doesn't matter to the plot. Because now Helix is going to leave to save the Heroine from his accidentally criminal past he didn't remember, and because his romantic rival suggested he should fuck off and leave Qualu alone because he doesn't deserve her. Oh, and I didn't even mention the rival AI love interest who Qualu is jealous of. There is a fuckton of stuff going on at all moments, and most of it isn't particularly character-building. I know the plot of Strange Love is "they compete in the Hunger games with 435234534 events because Reasons," which didn't particularly bother me. But that was in tandem with the arc of Beryl and Zylar overcoming their species differences to fall in love with each other - which at least was headed in one direction with escalating Hunger Games and relationship stakes. This was kind of, "I like him, I like her, but we can't cause Reasons, so let's spend most of the plot escaping from various villains and circumstances to avoid dealing with it." There's a very eleventh-hour outing of Helix as nonbinary, which was cool, and I get that gender identity is a process, but I wish the book hadn't been 80% about a male-identified character and then shifted to gender-neutral pronouns in the very last sex scene.
So here my critique of the book as it is ends, and I'm going to TL;DR a bit about AI consciousness and phenomenology. This is more about me and my wishes for the book than what Aguirre actually wrote, which I want to respect as it stands. The pitch for this book is that it's fun, it's imaginative, it's sweet, it doesn't have to be a graduate seminar on haptic phenomena, digital consciousness and embodied experience. But....if if were, I would be so delighted?
The "I wish it did more with this premise" starts out when Helix winds up in a meat body on page 1. There's some mild disorientation he experiences, as one might expect. If I can compare it to anything in pop culture, it's a bit like a reverse Avatar, where instead of the hero being like, "whee 9 ft tall cat body!" it's like, "wow, this lumbering Tiralian body kind of sucks because I have to pee now and I hate that." But in these early chapters, there's no description of past Helix the digital consciousness as he served Zylar, and there's no Helix POV on his past deceit. That was what fascinated me about the previous Helix plot in Strange Love, that he was deceptive but in this rational, even affectionate way, because he was the one who arranged Beryl's kidnapping under false pretenses to give Zylar his mathematically-probable HEA. Back here in Love Code, because amnesiac Helix can't recall much of his past, we're left in the dark about what is it like to experience purely digital consciousness. We do get glimpses of that past experience when Helix, in a flashback to his time hijacking Gravas station's AI, describes the simultaneity of information, knowledge and power he had then. Which sounds, frankly, fascinating. And I wish Helix had been a bit grumpier about the loss of that power, about having to suffer the burdens of a physical body that gets hungry, tired, and feels pain? It's later revealed that he "chose" to give himself to Qualu and adopt a biological body, but even if he wanted this fate, the transition to embodied experience should be more of a thing.
There's an entire first-act plot about Helix appreciating art, which doesn't even get into the adjustment he must be going through, suddenly having eyes, seeing colours, recognizing representations, understanding their cultural context, or, y'know, tackling what art *is* from an AI perspective vs. an organic lifeform perspective. The book's angle is very much, art is an aesthetic, visual experience that makes you feel a certain way emotionally, when that is a very narrow apprehension of what art is and what it does. Art exists in a cultural space and is about far more than visual aesthetic judgment; "art" means something entirely different in our present vs the past, when artistic craft was used to make ritual objects used for religious worship that weren't conceptually separated from their religious usage. Ie. in 300 BCE, You don't primarily judge the craft and appearance of a statue of Athena in the temple; you worship it as sacred. So what art is to a machine newly become flesh is this potentially huge question. I know this type of discussion is way above the paygrade of an adorable alien romance, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it somewhere, if not here.
There seems to be a tendency, in writing AI plots, for humans to assume that the best AI is the one that is the closest to human or somehow illuminates human virtues instead of machine virtues. Where the AI pines for things like human emotions or even mortality - as in Star Trek's Data - even though from a machine perspective, those human qualities are totally a hindrance, not a benefit necessarily. And lord, do I ever love Data, so I don't hate on these plots at all; they can be moving and illuminating of the human condition. But...what about the machine condition? I found myself a bit frustrated by the extent to which Helix accepted the virtues of his meatspace body while putting down his digital self as not as pleasurable to experience, and therefore not as preferable. His refrain is (and he repeats this a lot) because he understands the emotional experience of intimacy and friendship now, and comes to enjoy sex and touch, meatspace is better. As someone born into meatspace I would probably feel the same, but that's because my entire frame of reference is living in meatspace, perceiving the world with my physical body since day 1 of existence. Of course going fully digital would feel like a loss, like becoming someone else altogether. But shouldn't the reverse be true for a code who's lived an entire digital life with, y'know, godlike computing powers and omniscience which sounds completely amazing?! In some way, doesn't that sound like another form of pleasure, a self-immolating but all-powerful Giordano Bruno-esque Borglike consciousness? I always annoy my Trek friends by arguing that once you're inside the Borg, I don't think it sounds so bad at all. No more individual pain and suffering, just the totality of knowledge of all beings inside it - like the closest thing one can imagine to being a God. Of course the borg is terrible because it does not allow for individualism, but I can't help feeling like such human-centric morality is really an impediment to understanding the potential experience to be had by alternate forms of consciousness. (And I swear I write this sentence in complete sobriety, admittedly wack-a-doo as it sounds).
How can we imagine an intimacy and sexuality that's machine-centric rather than human-centric, a negotiation between flesh and sentient other, if it's not about traditionally carnal longings of the flesh? Is it even possible at all, and if so, how? I would be so fascinated to see this plot, and it was kind of what I was hoping for in secret. If you know of such a book, even if it's not a romance, please give me your recs.