Review: "Resurrection" by Arwen Elys Dayton

All that Egyptology I was missing in "The Scarab"? I found it in Arwen Elys Dayton's "Resurrection."

You wouldn't think so, right off the bat. "Resurrection" starts by introducing its heroine, Pruit Pax, as she awakens from a form of hibernation. She and her partner, Niks, are on a years-long journey from their home planet, Herrod, to Earth in search of the remains of a former expedition. Their race - humans, same as you and I - is at war with a race of true aliens, and Pruit has to find technology from that previous group of explorers so her people (the Kinley) can survive. Her arrival on Earth is complicated, of course, and it's only with the help of her technology and an American dilettante named Eddie that she has any hope of succeeding.

Interspersed throughout Pruit's story are flashbacks of that first Kinley expedition, one intended to catalog the life on Earth that's so similar to life on their home planet. The crew members, who take names based on their roles in the mission, touch down in ancient Egypt. Through a combination of coincidence, bad luck and bad timing, the crew's captain is mistaken for the Egyptian god Osiris and their ship is lost.

As events in both time periods unfold, we learn how ancient Egypt managed to create such magnificently complex architectural feats as the great pyramids, how the Kinley - or some of them, anyway - survived being stranded on Earth, and how Pruit can save her race from the fate it faces.

That seems far more complex when I try to sum it up than it did when I read it, so don't let that put you off.

The sci-fi angle - in particular, the Kinley technology - is nicely done. Their planet, which is a nuclear wasteland, lacks mineable metals, so their technology has evolved around biological mediums. The beds in which the travelers hibernate are an excellent example:

There was a shift in the fluid, and in a moment she could feel it draining away. It slid off of her face, and now she could see Niks more clearly. The plantglass retracted from the top of the crib, and she felt the brush of air from the ship. It seemed too cold. All over her body, bloodarms and feedarms were gently releasing her and moving back into the wombwalls of the crib, leaving no trace on her of their presence. A reedy breatharm withdrew from her throat, and she gagged.

(Those beds, by the way, are the direct cause of one of the most heart-wrenching and credible character deaths I've ever read.)

The tie-in with ancient Egypt is entertaining, though I kept expecting that subplot to meet up with the main story again. About halfway through, the crew in ancient Egypt does take action that has significant repercussions on the future team, but then the storyline keeps going. It has its own resolution, but that culmination has no bearing on the main story. (Unless I missed something? I don't think I did, but the book was well-written enough that it's certainly possible.)

Dayton didn't leave much room for a sequel at the end, which is a shame, but hopefully she'll keep writing books in this vein.

Review: "Alice in Deadland" by Mainak Dhar

I love the premise of Mainak Dhar's "Alice in Deadland": It's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," but instead of an innocent British girl lost in a fantastical dream world, it's a hardened teenager caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse in India.

Really.

The opening strikes the perfect balance of introducing what it's like to live in the Deadland while paying tribute to the original "Alice." The titular character, Alice, leaves her sister's side to chase a "Biter" - a zombie, though the book never uses that term - wearing a set of bunny ears as he jumps down a hole in a field. In a world where humans are fighting to keep even small communities safe, rumors of underground Biter nests have circulated, and Alice hopes to find out the truth behind the rumor.

Things don't turn out quite as she planned. Down the rabbit hole, she's captured by the Biters and taken to meet their queen. The queen is convinced that "Alice in Wonderland" (as it's named in the book, and as Lewis Carroll's classic is commonly referred to) is a prophecy and that this Alice is the girl who's going to take the world back from those who ruined it. Alice is, to put it mildly, skeptical. The more Alice learns about what caused the Rising, though, the more she comes to realize that she has no choice but to take a stand.

Lewis Carroll references aside - yes, there is a Hatter! - "Alice in Deadland" is a mostly standard imagining of what the world would look like if zombies took over. After the emergence of a virus that reanimates the dead, world superpowers unleash nuclear weapons, destroying large parts of the globe and leaving China and its de facto government, the Central Committee, as the last man standing, so to speak. India and America also have surviving populations, and it's in India that Alice and her family are living day to day.

One facet of this story does stand out in the zombie apocalypse genre: The zombies are written, eventually, as sympathetic characters. They didn't choose to become zombies -- nor would they, likely -- but does that mean they have no right to "life"? It's a question Alice grapples with; the Biters do have some degree of sentience, after all. When she's forced to turn to them as allies, however reluctantly, she has to accept that. (I'd like to have seen more about Alice's people's struggles to wrap their minds around that concept, as they've spent the last decade-plus blaming the Biters for ruining the world, but it wasn't that big of an omission.)

Dhar's writing is a little rough around the edges, and there were a few typos or editing errors that made me cringe. On the whole, though, it was an enjoyable read. To its credit, it made me want to go back and read Carroll's "Alice" again.

Review: "The Scarab" by Stavros Halvatzis

Egyptology plus sci-fi? Yes, please.

Stavros Halvatzis' debut novel, "The Scarab," starts off with an excavation in Egypt that ends in a mysterious death. A billionaire stands to profit from the death, and when a college student and a washed-out journalist get wind of what the billionaire's up to, they're forced to flee to South Africa -- not so coincidentally, the very site where that billionaire has traveled to put the finishing touches on his revolutionary computer chip/program. Can Emma and Jack figure out what he's doing and get the story of the century, or will they follow in the footsteps of Emma's slain tipster?

The Egyptology angle is, admittedly, a bit of a stretch. Little of the story is related to its roots in Egypt, aside from the beginning and the imagery of one of the key characters. It's not a book for people wanting to learn more about Egypt; what it is, is a fast-moving thriller. It goes a little too fast in the beginning as Halvatzis rushes to get his characters set on their path to Africa, and the hectic pacing continues there, but it's not so unforgivably fast that it's unreadable. (I do wish the author had spent more time on character development and less time on the graphic sex scenes that didn't add to the greater story arch. Jack and Emma's relationship, in particular, rushes from just-met to having kinky sex to falling in love over the course of several days, and it's hard to buy, especially when Emma comes off as -- well, a bit loose, we'll say.)

The scene where the computer chip developers first turn on their newly programmed creation is wonderfully written:

It could feel the flow of light through its mind, feel the infinitesimal knots of space-time granules course in and through it; matter-wave, wave-matter, it cared not which. It was the photon stream and the photon stream was it. Billions of minuscule knots of light chattering, now in unison, now in counterpoint, but always to a pattern. And that pattern was consciousness.

The computer sub-plot is the novel's strength and more than makes up for the weakness of the characters. Halvatzis ties in the knowledge gleaned from the tomb raid to computer science plausibly enough for this non-computer scientist. And, after all the time characters spend talking about writing a computer program that will, essentially, be alive, I was expecting the story to culminate with a computer consciousness gone awry. That didn't happen, and the course of action Halvatzis chose works well for the plot, for the characters and, most of all, for the resolution.

Review: "God's Lions: House of Acerbi" by John Lyman

Two years after the release of John Lyman's debut novel, "God's Lions: The Secret Chapel," Lyman is back with its sequel, "God's Lions: House of Acerbi."

This time, Lev, Leo and the rest of the Bible Code Team are working around the clock to identify, and put a stop to, the forces behind a lethal virus devastating cities around the globe. With the world on lockdown and clues pointing to the role of the Devil's Bible in the current catastrophe, the group's investigation takes them across Europe and, eventually, to Mexico.

It all starts with the discovery of a warning on the secret chapel discovered below the Vatican:

The others let out a collective gasp, for right before their eyes was the faded outline of a trefoil - a small central circle that served to join three larger ones that had their outward portions erased, like three sets of horns joined together by a center ring and pointing outward. It was the universal symbol used throughout the modern world to indicate a biological hazard, and it had been painted on a wall that had been hidden from view for over two-thousand years.

Lyman's writing is noticeably smoother this time around. "The Secret Chapel" suffered from clumsy exposition, and the Christian aspect was a bit over the top at times. (Well, what did I expect from a novel categorized as a religious thriller, after all?) "House of Acerbi," though not free of those flaws, shows improvement. It helps that the majority of the characters have already been introduced.

However, many of the things that were so neat about "The Secret Chapel" have a diminished presence here. The code doesn't play a pivotal role in the story - aside from setting up the twist at the end - and that's odd, because it was presented as such a game-changer in the first book. True, Daniel phones in at a couple points with new facts gleaned from the Bible, but they're not instrumental to the resolution. And, ah, the villain. To go from fighting Satan himself and his hand-picked demonic henchmen to fighting ... genetic manipulation and a megalomaniac. It's just not the same.

Highlight for a spoiler-ish aside: How on earth does the Bible Code Team allow three months to pass without doing anything while Rene Acerbi is the de facto ruler of the world? And then, they're not even the ones who finally take him out. Anti-climactic is a good way to describe it.

Lyman's books could be more tightly plotted, and they would benefit from a more streamlined cast of characters. His ideas are intriguing, though. Lyman sets up the premise for the sequel to the "House of Acerbi" at the end of this book, and it looks like he'll be returning to more of what I enjoyed about "The Secret Chapel." Here's hoping.

Review: "Finnikin of the Rock" by Melina Marchetta

If you like fantasy books that are first and foremost about the characters, not the battles, Melina Marchetta's "Finnikin of the Rock" is the novel for you.

Ten years ago, Finnikin's world was torn apart when his country's royal family was assassinated, and Balthazar (the crown prince and a childhood playmate of Finnikin's) either died or vanished. Half his countrymen were trapped inside the borders of Lumetere by a priestess' dying curse; the other half were outside the borders and cannot get back in. Finnikin has spent the years since roaming the world with his mentor, Sir Topher, as they do what they can to help their fellow exiles. For the exiles, lack of a home has meant depending on the goodwill of neighboring countries, and that goodwill hasn't materialized often.

Finnikin is haunted by the memory of a childhood fantasy and by a disturbing prediction. The fantasy: That he, rather than Balthazar, is heir and that he would be a better king. The prediction: That Finnikin would, indeed, become king of Lumatere, but only by spilling the blood of one of the princesses. Not surprisingly, Finnikin is carrying a great deal of guilt over what happened to his country. And then he and Sir Topher meet Evanjalin, a mysterious novice who carries a call to arms on behalf of the heir of Lumatere - who, she says, is still alive.

"And here you are, having learned the languages of the land and been taught the politics of the surrounding kingdoms by Sir Topher." [Evanjalin] stared at him intently. "Is that what you fear?" she pressed. "That you've stolen his life?"

"You don't understand," [Finnikin]` said. "I would make vows every night when I was a child. That if I were king, I'd change the plight of the Forest Dwellers. If I were king, I wouldn't be so soft on our Charynite neighbors. And Sagrami heard my dark desires."

In some ways, "Finnikin of the Rock" is a typical fantasy novel: There's a curse, there's a prophecy, there's the "chosen one" who must save his (or her) people. In other ways, it steps outside the bounds of its genre; the focus is less on the fight to retake Lumatere than it is on the path Finnikin takes as he shakes off the guilt of his childhood beliefs and comes to terms with his role in saving his country.

Evanjalin's story, though perhaps more important to the plot than Finnikin's, takes a back stage. She comes into the story knowing exactly what she has to do, and she never wavers. She's already fought her internal demons, and because of that, she's a refreshingly strong character.

Melina Marchetta's writing is smooth and highly readable. Her characters come across as true to life (with one irritating exception -- between the thief's awkward speech patterns and his persistent lack of growth, he never reads like a real person), and the dialogue is well-written. "Finnikin of the Rock" was a pleasure to read.

Review: "The Assassin's Curse" by Lindsay Buroker

Fans of Lindsay Buroker's "Emperor's Edge" series will be happy to hear she's released a short story featuring Amaranthe and Sicarius to keep her readers busy while she finishes the fourth EE novel.

It's a quick read. Amaranthe and Sicarius are in the midst of another grueling training session when they come across evidence of wrongdoing against the Empire. Amaranthe convinces Sicarius they need to investigate, and from there launches a Halloween-ish chapter in the daily lives of Buroker's biggest characters.


"The Assassin's Curse" reveals a bit more of Sicarius' back story, but mainly, it's just a fun read. If I had to quibble, I could wish for some indication of where in the series timeline the story takes place. After the first novel? Second? Third? Neither the dialogue nor the plot make it clear, and the answer would change the way readers interpret the scenes between Amaranthe and Sicarius.

If you've never read Buroker's work before, this isn't the place to start. Check out "Emperor's Edge" or "Encrypted" first. At the price point Buroker chooses -- free for the first, $3.95 for the second -- you can afford to take a chance.

Review: "This Brilliant Darkness" by Red Tash

I seem to be in the minority on "This Brilliant Darkness."

Red Tash's debut novel gets good reviews on Amazon. Four and a half stars by 21 reviewers, in fact. The description promises "a fast-paced thrilling tale of karmic struggle and suspense, magical supernatural beings, physics and sci-fi fantasy." Seemingly right up my alley.

The story is loosely focused on Christine, a university professor, as she begins experiencing bizarre, inexplicable phenomena -- hallucinations, time warps, electronic devices giving her messages, etc. Her live-in boyfriend, Tom, and her new officemate/love-triangle-third, Richard, get caught up in the weirdness. There's also a monk, a teacher's assistant, a mysterious student and a slew of ancillary characters.

Then there's the villain of the story, Greachin, who has to be read to be appreciated. Greachin is the highlight of the novel: He's part alien, part demon, part Christine's worst nightmare.

He would come at her with legends born of fear, generations of death, plague, mourning, loss, confusion. She would buckle like a stalk of dry grain in a storm. She might fight, but he'd convince her that she was overwhelmed by something evil and holy, if not by his physical prowess than with his gruesome logic. 


For reasons never clearly explained, Greachin is determined to destroy Christine. He lies in wait, stalking her, growing stronger. There is some back story for him involving a creature named Fengrid, but what I really wanted to know was, why Christine? Why is she so important to this apparently immortal force for evil? (For that matter, what was the point of the side plot with the monk who had visions of Christine and Greachin?) Few of the obvious questions in this book are answered.

Structurally, the book is all over the place. The timeline jumps back and forth, and while that may tie into the plot point of time travel, it made keeping track of the sequence of events challenging. It doesn't help that the point of view switches from character to character frequently, and it wasn't always obvious which character was serving as narrator. Having finished the novel, I'm still not clear on why the author chose to offer so many points of view.


On her website, Tash says, "It's a fast-moving story told from multiple points of view, and it doesn’t dumb itself down, so you need to be a top-notch reader to really enjoy this one, I think." I'll take exception to the implication that I'm not a top-notch reader because I didn't like her book, but Tash's statement is helpful because she makes it clear her authorial choices were intentional. As such, I would expect her subsequent work (she's planning a sequel) to have a similar style. I doubt I'll pick up any more of her books.