Marauder by Clive Cussler and Boyd Morrison

Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons on November 10, 2020

Clive Cussler was a prolific and popular writer when he was alive. He died earlier this year. Judging by the ongoing production of the Robert Ludlum and Robert Parker factories, death doesn’t stand in the way of churning out new books. Marauder is co-authored by Boyd Morrison. The degree to which Cussler contributed to the book is unclear. Since most (maybe all but the first) of Cussler’s “Oregon Files” novels were co-authored (several with Morrison), it probably doesn’t matter.

Marauder is the name of a trimaran that bad guys have equipped with a plasma weapon. It battles Captain Juan Cabrillo and the crew of the newly refurbished Oregon who have abundant weapons of their own. Shootouts ensue.

Marauder doesn’t even attempt a plausible plot. It isn’t the kind of novel that really needs one, although thrillers tend to be better when they fall within the realm of realism. This is basically a novelized action movie. Since the thrills come from the action, giving much thought to why the thrills are happening is perhaps an unwelcome distraction. And yes, the story is entirely predictable. Well, we wouldn’t want the bad guys to win, would we?

The premise involves the Chinese, the current boogeymen for people who need to believe in boogymen. Angus Polk, a senior analyst in the Australian Department of Defence, is married to April Jin, an intelligence officer in the Australian navy. They both served time for selling military secrets to a Chinese company owned by Lu Yang. Although Yang recently died, he spread some money around and got his two spies an early release from prison. Now he wants to leave his vast fortune to Polk and Jin on the condition that they carry out his final plan.

Yang has whipped up a new weapon, a gas that paralyzes people. If an antidote is not administered within one week, the paralysis becomes permanent. Yang’s plan is to paralyze everyone in Sydney and sell the antidote to rich people. More nefarious, however, is the notion that Australia will be flooded with Chinese caretakers for all the people who don’t get an antidote. This influx of Chinese will somehow give the Chinese a hidden army in Australia. Unless, of course, Australia opts to import caretakers from the Philippines or other Asian countries that have a long history of training caretakers. Details, details.

As the bad guys move forward, a bunch of people — including one of Juan’s team — become paralyzed, giving Juan and crew a mere week to find the antidote. Naturally, the antidote is made from a nut that only grows in a couple of remote places, so our heroes need to traipse around groves of nut trees (where more shootouts ensue) before engaging in last-minute heroics as the confront Polk and Jin.

The plot is full of holes. The dialog is wooden. Characterization is an afterthought. But there’s plenty of action and some of it is exciting. Fans of action novels could do worse. Fans of good books could do better.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

The Saints of Salvation by Peter F. Hamilton

Published by Del Rey on November 17, 2020

The Saints of Salvation is like Avengers Endgame without the superheroes and with a lot more science. A large group of heroes, mostly but not entirely human, fight to save humanity from evil. In the process, lots of things explode, a good bit of humanity seems to be wiped out, and time goes a bit wonky.

When I read the first novel in the Salvation sequence and noted that the story would unfold over thousands of years, I expected that the heroes in the first novel would be dead long before the story ended. And I thought that would be unfortunate, as I felt a greater attachment to those characters than to the characters who carry the story in the future. When the key near future characters turned up again in the second novel, I was happy. Here they are again in The Saints of Salvation. They are, in fact, the saints to which the title refers. Humanity appreciates the inspiration they provided in the dark past. Now it’s the far future and, thanks to the miracle of science fiction, they aren’t done fighting. In that fight, they are joined by varied characters old and new, including a bunch of humans (more or less) who were seeded by a far-future character in an effort to kickstart the final battle.

The fight is against the Olyx, an alien race of religious extremists who are on a mission from the God at the End of Time. The first novel tells us that the Olyx captured billions of humans but that some humans who escaped, as well as generations of their descendants, dedicated themselves to fighting back. The second novel sets up that fight while recounting, in vivid detail, the human struggle to delay the inevitable destruction of the Earth. The last novel recounts the last days of that near future struggle on Earth and follows various humans at various points in future history as they carry out a plan to locate and destroy the Olyx home world.

But is this the last novel? The story arc is certainly complete, but questions remain about the mysterious God at the End of Time who, at some point in the future, apparently commanded the Olyx to gather all the civilizations of the universe, bundle up their brains and other essential organs in cocoons, and bring them to the god for some unrevealed but presumably divine purpose. The novel suggests that those questions might be answered in a later book. Perhaps that’s why the books are marketed as the Salvation Sequence rather than the Salvation trilogy.

The Saints of Salvation is long book, but the word count is necessary to tell a story that spans tens of thousands of years and encompasses a multitude of smaller, character-centered stories. It combines creative warfare with touching moments of sacrifice. It follows core characters who evolve without losing the kernel of goodness that makes them heroic. It pits good against evil and love against hate in an epic tale that never loses sight of its purpose. The story is alternately thrilling and chilling, sweet and sad. In its plausible construction of a high-tech future, the novel offers a rich display of imagination. It never fails to fascinate.

I could (and did) say the same about the first two books. Everything about the Salvation sequence, from strong characterization and complex storytelling to dazzling suggestions about the future to which science might take us, is impressive. Fans of space opera will heartily enjoy all three books in the sequence.

RECOMMENDED

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson

Published by Del Rey on August 4, 2020

The Space Between Worlds is rooted in the familiar multiverse theory. The story imagines the ability to move between a limited number of Earths that are similar to our own. The protagonist is tasked with making those journeys. She brings energy and interest to the book's initial chapters. Unfortunately, the story becomes less interesting as it progresses. Some aspects of the novel appear to have been crafted to please soap opera or romance fans.

A woman named Cara lives in Ashville, where underprivileged people of color cope with polluted air and malnutrition. Cara scores a gig as a traverser in Wiley City, where the rich people live. There is little subtlety in the juxtaposition of Wiley City and Ashville, two cities separated by a wall. Ashville residents cannot enter Wiley City without a pass. That wealthy people live well and poor people live poorly is a universal, but we see too little of how the difference developed on Earth Zero, where the neighboring cities are located.

Cara’s job entails traveling to one of 380 parallel Earths that humans from Earth Zero can enter. These are Earths that are sufficiently similar to Earth Zero that they “resonate," whatever that means.

Traversing isn’t a job that many people can perform. Only people who have no counterpart on the world they are entering — only people whose counterpart died on that world — can enter. If your counterpart is alive, you will be rejected with extreme prejudice. Why? Well, that isn’t clear, although Cara feels there’s some sort of spirit being called Nyame who lives between the worlds and makes, or at least enforces, the rules. Readers of a superstitious mindset might appreciate Cara’s communion with Nyame. Had more flesh been given to the concept, I might have appreciated it, as well.

Cara’s value is that she has managed to die on 372 of the parallel Earths but not on Earth Zero. Not yet, anyway, no thanks to Nik Nik, who is the Emperor of Ashville on Earth Zero and most other Earths. On some of those, Cara is Nik Nik’s “favorite girl.” Nik Nik and his father before him have generally been the sort of authoritarian rulers who trade protection for tribute.

Adam Bosch, who invented the traversing technology, lives in Wiley City. He uses that technology to acquire minerals and stock tips and other valuable information from the parallel Earths, some of which exist in the future. Adam is evil in a greedy, hubristic way that makes him easy to dislike — particularly when it becomes clear just how twisted and murderous he is — but like the Earth Zero Nik Nik, Adam is little more than a stereotype. Adam is the Wiley City version of Nik Nik, more a capitalist king than an emperor, but the two men have a connection that is meant to be important to the plot. To the extent that The Space Between Worlds is a soap opera, huge revelations that are turn out to be relatively meaningless are part of the formula. A more interesting revelation, although one that comes early in the plot, is that the death-prone Cara isn’t who we think she is.

The story follows Cara as she visits a few different Earths, encounters different versions of Nik Nik and Bosch, and even encounters herself, which isn’t supposed to be possible. She has moderately interesting adventures and occasionally ponders how people might develop in different ways under different circumstances. That’s an interesting concept that should be enough to carry the story, but key parts of the plot go nowhere. Cara experiences emotional woe because she loves Dell on pretty much every world but doesn’t think that Dell could feel the same about poor trash from Asheville. Cara gets along with Nik Nik on world 175 but hates him everywhere else. All of which left me wondering if the story would ever go anywhere. It really doesn’t. At least, it doesn’t go far enough to justify the set up.

I appreciate the fluidity of Micaiah Johnson’s prose and the thought she put into the concept of traversing. I appreciated the characterization that went into Cara, although other characters are one dimensional. I would have appreciated the plot if the story had realized its potential. Where the story could have explored themes of nature and nurture, it instead becomes a muddle as Cara visits a handful of alternate Earths, all the while fretting about whether Dell will ever love her as much as she loves Dell. The story loses energy and fizzles out entirely by the last chapter. I was disappointed that The Space Between Worlds didn’t live up to the hype that has surrounded it, but I did enjoy significant parts of the story.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

The Law of Innocence by Michael Connelly

Published by Little, Brown and Company on November 10, 2020

The lawyer novels that I most enjoy reflect the drama that is inherent in a trial and indict the frailties of our criminal justice system. Michael Connelly delivers the drama and seasons it with a stinging but accurate look at how police and prosecutors subvert justice to achieve their own ends.

Michael Haller (known as the Lincoln lawyer because he practices law from his small fleet of Lincolns) is pulled over by a cop for a missing license plate. The cop forces him to open his trunk and finds a dead body. The corpse turns out to be an ex-client who didn’t pay his bill.

The “lawyer as defendant” plot has been done before — Scott Turow’s Presumed Innocent remains the gold standard — but Connelly gives it a twist by having Haller defend himself. Yes, Haller has a fool for a client, but he also has his own firm and a couple of investigators working with him (including Harry Bosch) and eventually gains the help of an ex-wife who takes a leave as a prosecutor to join his defense team.

In Haller’s view, the “law of innocence” requires him not just to raise a reasonable doubt, but to prove that a specific suspect committed the murder and framed him. Nothing else will restore his reputation and allow him to continue making decent money.

Haller is handicapped by being in jail during much of the time he’s preparing his defense because, as Connelly demonstrates, the bail system isn’t fair. When Haller finally makes bail, the prosecutor amends the charge to send him back to jail because that’s exactly the kind of sleaze that defense lawyers have come to expect from win-at-all-cost prosecutors. The prosecution also withholds critical evidence because that’s what win-at-all-cost prosecutors do. The Law of Innocence is fiction but it serves as a fair introduction to the perils that defendants face when a prosecutor is really out to get them.

The plot works for a few reasons. First, the story allows the reader to follow Haller’s investigators as they sift through evidence, concoct theories about who might have wanted to frame Haller, and chase down leads that eventually solidify one of those theories. The mystery comes to a credible resolution.

Second, it’s easy to sympathize with Haller as he sits in jail, paying inmates for protection but enduring a couple of beatings because jailers have little incentive to protect a guy they regard as the enemy. Haller suspects that at least one attack is tied to his case, along with the death of a man who might have been a useful witness.

Third, every courtroom drama rises and falls on the courtroom scenes. The inside skinny on strategy, both in cross-examination and in working the judge, are the lawyer novel equivalent of tradecraft in a spy novel. Haller comes up with some clever strategies that are unique to his defense. The novel is less melodramatic than Perry Mason — the real killer doesn’t confess from the witness stand — but courtroom drama builds incrementally as the reader begins to wonder whether Haller will be unjustly convicted. I love reading about fictional defense lawyers using their skill to outwit self-righteous prosecutors who have little regard for due process.

There were, I thought, some dangling loose ends regarding the way in which the crime was actually committed and the specific ways in which the police were used to frame Haller. But those are quibbles in a smart novel that moves quickly and maintains suspense from beginning to end. Connelly provides enough characterization to make Haller seem like a real person with real problems, but the novel is driven by plot more than characterization. The plot’s strength makes The Law of Innocence a good choice for fans of lawyer novels.

RECOMMENDED

Comrade Koba by Robert Littell

Published by The Overlook Press on November 10, 2020

Robert Littell has written some good spy novels, including Company and The Sisters. He’s also written some historical fiction that is less successful. Comrade Koba falls into the latter category.

Comrade Koba imagines a ten-and-a-half-year-old child named Leon Rozental whose father, a physicist, died from radiation poisoning. He’s living with his mother, a Jewish doctor, in Soviet housing. From a hidden room, he watches the NKVD arrest his mother. He later learns that she was arrested with many other Jewish doctors who are accused of conspiring to poison Stalin.

The NKVD seals shut the apartment door. Leon knows of hidden hallways that let him connect with other kids who have been effectively orphaned within the building. He also knows of a hidden tunnel that will let him leave the building unobserved to forage for food. While returning from one such trip, he notices another passageway that takes him to a basement room where he meets a grumbly old man who claims to be Stalin’s aide. As the man, who calls himself Koba, narrates his story to Leon, it quickly becomes clear to the reader that Koba bears a striking resemblance to Stalin himself. In fact, that question of identity arises so quickly that it isn’t a spoiler to mention it here.

So that’s pretty much the story. Leon listens to Koba every day and hangs out with is friends at night. Leon is a clever kid with a winning personality. Koba is Koba: unrepenting, blaming others for Soviet atrocities or blaming the victims who, in his view, had it coming. He certainly isn’t as nuanced as the book’s blurb suggests. The story is interesting and Littell’s dialog is rich and surprising, but it doesn’t add up to much. If the novel is meant to remind us that Stalin was evil and anti-Semitic . . . well, history reminds us of that.

Unlike history, the novel doesn’t ring true. A kid who wanders through tunnels accidentally encounters a Soviet dictator? Stalin secretly likes kids and wants one to write his biography? Stalin — as we learn at the end — has a sentimental side? I might have been willing to suspend my disbelief if Littell had written a meatier novel, but the rewards of Comrade Koba are too few to earn a full recommendation.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS