Jo Walton’s Reading List: November 2024 (on reactormag.com): “Don’t read this without reading Alliance Rising first. And if you have read other Cherryh Alliance-Union books I guarantee there is something in here that will make you choke on your tea. I thought this was great and it had a really powerful end. I couldn’t put it down once I started it. But what I want to say isn’t that. What I want to say is that we have a Best Series Hugo now, and if we don’t nominate the Alliance-Union series this year when there is a new book out in it, we may not ever have another chance. Cherryh was born in 1942; she’s 82. She’s going to write a finite number of new books. The award is for the series, not for the new volume. This series has been going since 1981, it has won two Hugos for individual volumes (Downbelow Station and Cyteen), it is one of the best series ever, one of the series that has shaped what stories of future history and space can be. And there’s a thing that happens where women writers become invisible as they get older. They keep writing, and selling books, but they don’t get award recognition and visibility. I understand that it’s easy to get excited about a new writer, and hard to stay excited about someone continuing to be excellent, but I don’t understand why this happens disproportionately to women. But anyway, if you have read any book in the Alliance-Union universe you can nominate the series for Best Series Hugo next year, and you should keep that in mind when it comes to nomination time. Are there five series with a volume out in 2024 that you think are better than this one? Really? If not, remember that it’s eligible and give it a nomination slot alongside the new hot things.” Amen!
Even more so than in Alliance Rising, there's a strong sense of reading a classic work of historical narrative—which is unexpected, given that this is science fiction. But the style, with its exhaustive expositions and repetitions, along with the galaxy-spanning canvas, the epic scope and stakes, and the existence of later (well, earlier...) books detailing the future of these characters and their looming war of independence, only reinforces the impression. Obviously, it doesn’t hurt that the universe is really fully fleshed (“brilliantly realized detail”...), the tension keeps accumulating and everything is utterly believable. A true to form, remarkable, awe-inspiring tour de force.
To wit:
“He had grit. He was a hero by any standard, but he didn’t try to trade on it.”
“At some point, when dealing with willful self-deception, reason failed.”
“Time. Everything was time. And there was no buying back a wrong choice.”
“At least, he qualified—after a moment’s reflection on life on planets, a life more alien to him than Pell’s dockside—not in space, they weren’t.”
“People in the hire of a company that’s been dead set, historically, on its own interests rather than the fair trade we’ve all become accustomed to.”
“Maybe that was what they were trying to create on Pell Station, which never had experienced a vector shift: a fantasy of life on a planet.”
“In point of fact, Cyteen had never made shipping a priority. What, exactly, Cyteen did prioritize was something of a mystery to the rest of humanity.”
“The wobbles cut in, nature’s own reminder that humans weren’t built for what humans had chosen to do.”
“Damn sure the EC’s done everything possible to innoculate them against anything like free thought.”
“These two have been playing a long, dark game, and deceiving their own in the process, and profit isn’t the only god they answer to.”
“I’d like once to talk to somebody who’s come from Earth, or Mars, or wherever,” Siobhan said. “That would be so weird. I’d buy him endless drinks.”
“We by no means approve of all Cyteen does. But while we trade, we are preventing the worst case: the fragmentation of nations and the demonization of other humans.”
“All this . . . all this needless death and betrayal. And for what? The fools had no secrecy left.”
“Mallory worried about Cyteen. The Monahans had never had a day of grief out of Cyteen, but honest ships and stations had had lifetimes of personal grief from the Earth Company—while those two ships had lived high on lies for generations.”
“But Ross did have a Family, and hopefully, in the not-so-distant future, that Family would get their ship back to Alpha safely and Finity would send young Ross and his fellow Galways back to their own region of space. On that hoped-for day, the Galways’ collective lives would change forever. But then, on the day Galway dropped back into Alpha system . . . all of human space would change. Forever.”
“Heroes? Glory seeker? Money-grubbing idiots? All of the above?”
“Good Family with a solid ship and outstanding crew. They saw opportunity for themselves and all the Hinder Stars, and took a gamble with their ship and their First-shift crew, a gamble that could end up saving all of us.”
“They’d been sipping Scotch, he and Emilio, discussing shifting economics and the impact on longhaul trade of the two functioning megaships, Finity and Cyteen-built Dublin. Those two ships, the prototypes of an unacknowledged technological race between Pell and Cyteen, were a next logical step up in power, carrying capacity, and range. Independently developed, they were nonetheless very similar, extrapolated out of identical technology and constrained by the same fundamental laws of the universe.”
“(…) few people outside the Cyteen sphere of influence ever really encountered the enigmatic azi. According to the merchanters who dealt with them on a regular basis, there was little to differentiate them from born-men, other than mathematical infallibility, speed with answers, inability to appreciate jokes, and an annoying tendency to extreme good looks (…)”
“Emilio was a Pell stationer, many generations a Pell stationer, descended from one of the original builders, with a Pell stationer’s view of the universe—namely that the star-stations rightfully ruled everything within their star’s gravity well, including the occasional planet and all between . . . to hell with the EC.”
“In the opinion of the EC, every station ever built was the offshoot of the ships and station cores the EC had built at Sol centuries ago and pushed out to the Hinder Stars. In the EC mind, the spacers and stationers were all just EC employees. If stationers, impatient with answers that took decades to get—and then made no sense—found their own solutions in the interim, well, stationers were simply displaying the cleverness for which they’d been hired in the first place. Any innovations stationers made were on company time, and therefore company property. (…) None of them, not even Alpha . . . now . . . would willingly bend again to the EC’s ancient notions of ownership.”
“Let me interrupt your fantasy,” Lee said. “That Sol should fall in line and become just one more system supplying Pell and Cyteen on their terms; the Mother of Mankind, doing business with two upstart space stations orbiting uninhabitable planets with nothing friendly to human life in the game? Never! We spend our lives at this! We built your reality! Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Spare us your sentiment. You, sir, are working for Pell, a station that began in an act of outright piracy that handed the precedent on to Cyteen, to the regret of the entire human race. We are the authority here!”
“Merchanters. You haul freight, Captain. You simply move freight around. You don’t build. You haven’t a damn claim. Your size, and the disruption you’ve made in this station, doesn’t impress a pusher. Neither does your politics.”
“Fortunately, the Cyteen-side megahauler, Dublin, agreed immediately. Without Finity’s and Dublin’s initial financial input, the idea was doomed from the start. Together, JR and John Reilly had hashed out certain important principles.
They’d kept the language simple, the goals clear and unequivocal.
What was the Families’ overriding interest? The same as it had ever been: ships. Their ships.
And corollary to that priority: survival. Which meant maintenance to a standard.
Square dealing where it came to trade.
Finally—and the principle most likely to meet resistance from the EC—immunity from interference on ships from anything that sat locked in orbit—station, moon, or planet. That meant no unauthorized boarding, no internal inspections of ships or cargo in hold, and no detention of crew excepting on felony charges.”
“And a living world was under their feet, brilliant blue and white in the blindingly brilliant light of this violent star. He’d seen the planet closeup on vid as they approached. A planet that had intelligent beings who sometimes came up to the station and moved through the service tunnels. Who were employed to maintain such passages as their own habitat, where they lived and worked and dealt with humans. Downers, humans called them, their world being Downbelow. Hisa was their word for themselves, but one shouldn’t speak to them unless they spoke first.”
“God, three living worlds trading products and ideas. What can that do for us? All of us—including Sol. Sol with its history and luxury goods from the planet that birthed humanity, Cyteen with an entire populace run by insanely brilliant scientists pouring out tech—and Pell being the pin that holds it all together.”
“If the EC has any sense, which I don’t grant, they’ll view the Konstantins as the best ally they could have. Raise Konstantin hackles, push Pell and us into alignment with Cyteen and against them, and I’m afraid it’ll be the Carnath’s vision for the future that prevails. Hopefully whoever the EC sends will be able to see it, too. Pell has proven it can hold its own against Cyteen, but if Sol pushes too hard, they’ll come smack up against Cyteen politics, and that will not end anywhere comfortable for anyone.”
“But it was necessary to try. Somewhere in the cogs of the machine, there had to be human beings who, once getting out here, once getting in contact with people in the Beyond, once exposed to the thriving network they’d built . . . were capable of understanding that there were ordinary human beings out here—even where it got strange, at Cyteen—human beings that wanted fairly reasonable things, on a human scale, and that in all this vastness of stars and planets, there really was enough for everybody to live a reasonable life.”
“He’d had his own talk with Ross, early on, but a mere Senior Captain wasn’t up to finesses of particle physics with a strung-out Navigator, and when Kate’s early explanation also referenced Ross’s monkeys and an elephant, he’d thrown up his hands in defeat.”