One Way by S.J. Morden

Published by Orbit on April 10, 2018

Like The Martian, One Way is about an effort to survive on Mars when things go wrong. Unlike The Martian, all but one of the people on Mars in One Way are prisoners. They have practical skills apart from crime, but they aren’t engineers so they can’t “science the shit” out of their problems. And unlike The Martian, there are several of them, so some characters can die on Mars and the story can continue. S.J. Morden also throws in a mystery plot that takes off at about the novel’s midway point, making One Way something more than a survival novel.

An inmate named Frank Kittridge, serving a sentence too long to survive, is given the option to take his construction skills to Mars. With several other prisoners, he’s trained and rocketed off to space to build a habitat that will be occupied by astronauts and scientists who will arrive later. California has privatized some of its prisons, and the corporation that has the building contract on Mars also owns a private prison, so prison labor is pretty easy to find.

Despite all the cheerleading for the privatization of space exploration, Morden imagines that profit-motivated enterprises will work as they always have, cutting corners and maximizing profits at the expense of human safety. That’s particularly true, Morden posits, when the human workers are prisoners and thus disposable.

The private contractors hired by NASA to build a base on Mars have not been entirely forthright with NASA about the their cost-saving strategies. When Frank and the gang reach Mars, they discover that things haven’t gone according to plan (at least as they understood the plan), because the layers of redundancy that NASA would use to assure safety were deemed too costly by the corporation that sent the prisoners to Mars. And anyway, the corporation has its own employee supervising the prisoners who intends to sort things out for the corporation’s benefit before the astronauts arrive.

During the first two thirds of One Way, the prisoners train and travel to Mars and deal with adversity as they assemble a habitat and worry about producing food and water and oxygen and heat. In its later stages, the plot evolves from a Martian survival story to a Martian mystery novel. Frank learns that someone is driving the buggies at night. Then he learns that containers have been dropped on Mars that the prisoners weren’t told about. Then prisoners begin to die in ways that may or may not be accidental. It falls to Frank to find the clues and solve the mystery.

Morden tells a smart, lively story in One Way, although the story holds few surprises, which diminishes its value as a mystery. Characters have enough personality to distinguish them from each other, and important characters have enough personality to make them seem real. The scenes that take place on Mars seem credible and are vividly described. While I thought the story was working its way to a predictable ending, I was surpised to find that the story isn’t resolved. The ending isn’t exactly a cliffhanger, but there is at least one more novel on the way, and readers who want to know how the story concludes will need to read it. I enjoyed One Way (as a science fiction adventure story more than a science fiction mystery) so I have no objection to reading the next novel, but potential readers should know that One Way does not stand alone.

RECOMMENDED

The Curve of the Earth by Simon Morden

Published by Orbit on March 19, 2013 

Samuil Petrovich is back. A rather quiet decade has passed since the events described in Degrees of Freedom. The evil Americans are still ruled by religious fanatics, but the Freezone is cooking along with a proto-democracy. Major decisions are made by a consensus of individuals chosen by computer who serve on small committees organized on an ad hoc basis -- a nifty idea. Despite the abilities Petrovich has gained by virtue of his cybernetic components and his connection to the Artificial Intelligence named Michael, Petrovich follows the Freezone rules -- as he should, since the Freezone is pretty much his creation.

Petrovich's adopted daughter Lucy has lost contact with the Freezone. Petrovich nominates himself to find her. Since Lucy was doing research in Alaska when she disappeared, a hapless FBI agent named Joseph Newcomen is assigned the frustrating task of assisting Petrovich -- a man who requires little assistance and desires even less. Petrovich and Newcomen spend the first half of the novel sparring until, at about the novel's midpoint, Petrovich begins to get a handle on the reason for Lucy's disappearance. She's seen something, or learned something, that involves the apparent destruction of a satellite that was blown out of the sky. Just what Lucy found is the mystery that drives the novel. Are the Chinese and/or the Americans up to something nefarious? The answer is interesting, a little surprising, and a clear set-up to more Petrovich novels.

Petrovich hasn't exactly mellowed as he's aged, but what fun would a mellow Petrovich be? He spends much of the novel berating Newcomen who, in Petrovich's view, doesn't think or fend for himself and has committed the unpardonable sin of being an American. At times Petrovich becomes wearisome in his bullying self-righteousness. He's often having a tantrum. That's amusing for awhile but it wears thin by the end of the book, particularly since he has the same tantrum over and over and over. Apparently near-omnipotence has made it difficult for Petrovich to get over himself. At other times he's surprisingly insecure about being a science geek (apparently the kids at school picked on him) and takes it out on others by belittling anyone whose knowledge base consists of subjects that require more subtlety than the rote memorization of "the value of the gravitational constant." It was good to see Petrovich growing up a bit in the trilogy that introduced him. Clearly the dude needs to grow a bit more, starting with a lesson in humility. I'm hoping that happens in future novels.

The dystopian America Simon Morden envisions, a government controlled by the religious right, also wears a bit thin, only because it is an underdeveloped, one-note song. The novel's premise that Americans would willingly give up their right to curse suggests that Morden has never visited Texas ... or Chicago ... or the East or West Coasts. On the other hand, his satirical look at American excesses when it comes to airport security and immigration queues are spot on, and Evil America serves as a counterpoint for Freezone values -- openness, governance by consensus -- that make the Freezone seem like an appealing place to live.

Morden peppers the swiftly moving story with high energy action scenes, some of which are impressively original. To the extent that The Curve of the Earth feels like an extended set-up for the next novel in the series, it at least whets my appetite for whatever might be coming next. There are passing references to earlier events that might befuddle a reader who hasn't read The Petrovitch Trilogy, but The Curve of the Earth should be enjoyable for readers who haven't read the earlier novels.

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Degrees of Freedom by Simon Morden

Published by Orbit on May 31, 2011

It has been about a year since the Americans destroyed Oshicora Tower and buried the Artificial Intelligence known as Michael beneath a pile of rubble, an event that occurred in Theories of Flight, the middle novel of the Petrovich Trilogy.  World governments revile Petrovich, regarding him as a terrorist because of his conduct in that novel and the first, Equations of Life, while the residents of the Freezone regard him as their de facto leader, if not their savior.  Now the Freezone’s actual leader, Sonja Oshicora, is at odds with Petrovich, who has discovered what appears to be a nuclear bomb in the Freezone, apparently an undetonated device installed by the Armageddonists decades earlier.  (At last, the trilogy’s readers are given a meaningful glimpse of Armageddon’s cause.)  Petrovich soon discovers that neither the bomb nor Sonja’s actions are what they appear to be, leaving Petrovich once more to take on the task of saving the Freezone’s residents from internal and external forces that threaten its destruction.  Fortunately for Petrovich, he’s not acting quite so single-handedly this time, having assembled a loyal cadre of friends during the course of the first two novels, not to mention his wife, a deadly ex-nun.

In addition to the interesting question of how one builds a functioning, beneficial government that actually serves its people in the aftermath of Armageddon (a creative and intriguing problem I haven’t often seen science fiction address), Simon Morden takes on a more familiar theme, one that science fiction writers have tackled since at least the days of Asimov:  what is the difference between a human and an artificially intelligent machine?  Petrovich decides that Michael will have to convince the Catholic Church that a machine can have a soul.  I thought it would have been fascinating to see that conversation play out; unfortunately, it all happens offstage.  That disappointing omission makes the story seem incomplete, but that’s one of my few complaints about this surprisingly satisfying conclusion to the trilogy.

Morden delivers a nice blend of drama, action, and comedy in this novel.  Where the second novel seemed to feature violence for the sake of violence, the action scenes in this one are more purposeful.  The comedy that was overdone in the first novel and perhaps lacking in the second is more carefully balanced in this one:  funny little bits pop up here and there, my favorite being a character (Tabletop) who amuses herself by molding Petrovich’s plastic explosives into animal figures.  I was also fond of the character Valentina, a Russian whose zeal for revolution leaves her itching to foment an uprising against the Freezone’s oppressors (she makes sure her followers are supplied with red flags, because it’s the “traditional color of such occasions” and “doesn’t show blood”).

It’s not that often I come to admire a fictional character, but Petrovich is a truly admirable creation:  a self-sacrificing hero, an idealist who refuses to be seduced by power and fame.  Petrovich is the kind of unwilling leader we wish for in the real world:  someone with the wisdom to exercise power nobly for the betterment of society before standing aside to let everyone else do their part.  He’s a character of sufficient complexity to experience guilt about the consequences of his actions without feeling remorse for doing the right thing.  He gives a speech toward the novel’s end about how he’s changed because of the events described in the trilogy, how he’s learned to be unselfish, to value his friends and to be a reliable friend to them, but it’s clear that Petrovich had integrity from the start, and it’s his integrity, his consistent refusal to take the easy path when he doesn’t feel it’s morally correct, that makes him so interesting. 

Perhaps us Yanks should be disturbed that Petrovich characterizes Americans (or maybe just the members of the administration that rose to power after Armageddon) as “a bunch of nuclear-armed fundamentalist xenophobic psychopaths” but there are, after all, some American politicians who fit that description (and some Brits as well).  I don’t mind that Morden made the United States the baddest power on the planet, but Morden’s version of an American president made whacky by religious zeal is a stereotype we’ve seen many times.  That’s a minor quibble, though, and I actually liked the scenes in which Petrovich gets payback against the United States in a relatively nonviolent way.

Ultimately, I think this is the best novel of the trilogy.  I doubt it will make such sense to readers who haven’t read the first two, and so (despite my criticisms of the second novel, a book that in restrospect seems like filler designed to bridge the first and third) I recommend reading them all.  It’s great fun and not quite like anything I’ve read.  If Morden wants to give us more Petrovich stories, I’ll read them.  (Minor point:  If Morden does publish another Petrovich novel with Orbit, he needs to convince Orbit to lay out some cash for real cover art.  The geometric designs Orbit came up with give me a headache.)

RECOMMENDED

Theories of Flight by Simon Morden

Published by Orbit on April 26, 2011

Samuil Petrovich, the unlikely hero of Equations of Life, begins this novel by creating artificial gravity.  At some point between Equations of Life and Theories of Flight, Petrovich married Madeleine who, when we last saw her, was a gun-toting nun.  Madeleine apparently had a crisis of faith; she’s now a gun-toting sergeant in the militia that is guarding the Metrozone from Outzone intruders -- including, evidently, Madeleine’s own mother, who shoots Madeleine early on in the novel.  Other key players who survived Equations (including Marchenkho, Sonja, and Chain) return in this one, although in lesser roles, and a couple of interesting new characters are introduced.  The New Machine Jihad is also back, albeit in a somewhat different form.  The plot involves Petrovich’s more-or-less single-handed effort to prevent the “Outies” from invading the Metrozone.

Theories of Flight fleshes out the post-Armageddon world of Simon Morden’s creation.  The Metrozone (what’s left of London, also called the Inzone) is shrinking; its residents are in danger of losing their relatively privileged lifestyles to the uncouth Outies who seek a share of the pie, or perhaps just want to stomp on the pie (sounds like class warfare, doesn’t it?).  The Outzone is expanding, encroaching on the Inzone; the Outies have devolved during the two decades since Armageddon, losing their culture and their language skills.  Across the Atlantic, in Reconstruction America, cultural conservatism prevails:  “you can’t book even a twin room without a copy of your marriage certificate.”  (I’ve gotten used to the ever-so-sophisticated British portraying us Yanks as a bunch of hicks, and perhaps we deserve it, but the notion that Armageddon will cause Americans to forego premarital pleasure seems a bit farfetched.)  Speaking of America's demons, let’s not forget the CIA, which in Morden’s future is still playing dirty tricks on the rest of the world.

In some respects the second novel is better than the first; in others it is not as good.  I like that Morden seemed to be taking the story a bit more seriously; Theories of Flight isn’t as outlandishly tongue-in-cheek as the first novel (losing the fighting nun concept was, I think, a good move).  On the other hand, Theories seems less focused, less driven, than Equations.  There’s a lot going on in Equations (perhaps a bit too much), while an extended section of Theories feels like the literary equivalent of a movie chase scene -- or perhaps an intelligent version of the movie 300.  It isn’t boring; on the other hand, it doesn’t keep the brain buzzing like Equations did. 

A second complaint is that the AI advising Petrovich is intent on debating Petrovich’s love life with him (does he love Madeleine or doesn’t he?) -- an ongoing conversation that just doesn’t work.  A third is that Madeleine's near-fatal encounter with her mother seems like a significant plot point, but it isn't developed.  Maybe Morden will tell us the rest of the story in the next book.  Finally, while I like Petrovich’s opinionated, sarcastic, antagonistic nature, there were times when the action came to a halt so that he could deliver one of his passionate lectures.  Inspiring as they may be, a bit less of that would have helped the story maintain its momentum.

The concluding chapters wrap up the main story nicely but the short last chapter is an information dump.  The world undergoes dramatic change in this novel.  I hope the next one gives us a closer look at the messy political situation Petrovich manages to create.

If you enjoyed Equations, I think you'll like Theories, even if it lacks some of the first novel's virtues.  Theories starts well, the middle is action-filled but light on substance, and the ending carries enough promise that I'm looking forward to reading the trilogy’s conclusion.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Equations of Life by Simon Morden

Published by Orbit on March 29, 2011

Simon Morden’s Equations of Life, the first book of a trilogy set in a post-Armageddon future, is an engaging, action-filled novel that has the feel of an intelligently written comic book. Samuil Petrovitch, a radiation-damaged Russian, left his criminal past behind and came to London in 2021 on a physics scholarship.  In the novel’s opening pages, Petrovich saves a young woman named Sanja from being kidnapped.  He escapes death with an assist from an armed nun named Sister Madeleine.  Sanja turns out to be the daughter of Oshicora, the boss of a yakuza-style corporate entity that is rapidly becoming the dominant criminal organization in the Metrozone. Oshicora’s real passion, however, is the creation of a virtual Japan (the physical Japan having fallen into the ocean during the Armageddon).  Sanja’s kidnappers were employed by Marchenkho, a Russian mob boss who, having been foiled in his plot to snatch Sanja, is unhappy with Petrovitch.  Petrovich is soon dodging Russian and Japanese mobsters while worrying that a police officer named Harry Chain will discover his sordid past.  Petrovich’s problems (not the least of which is a propensity for heart attacks) multiply when something called the New Machine Jihad mounts an attack on all of the Metrozone’s computer systems and manipulates Petrovich into doing its bidding.

Equations of Life tells a fun story that obviously isn’t meant to be taken seriously (that, at least, is the inference I draw from the armed nun and wisecracking antihero).  We learn little about the supporting characters, but Morden infuses Petrovich with enough personality to make him interesting.  The characters have appeared in earlier stories that Morden set in the same post-Armageddon future; I haven’t read them so I don’t know whether they give the supporting characters more context.  Exactly what happened to cause the Armageddon is also unrevealed in the novel; perhaps those facts are made known in the stories or in the remaining books in the trilogy.

While the narrative has the feel of a novel hastily written (the word “literary” will never be used in its description), the story roars along with such speed that Morden’s stylistic lapses are easily overlooked.  Sometimes the plot is a bit over-the-top (an easily won battle against a horde of zombie-like bums is the novel’s epitome of silliness) and it never feels entirely original; bits and pieces seem cobbled together from stories already told.  Yet Morden reassembles the familiar into something unique and surprising (although the ending is a bit predictable).  On the whole, Equations of Life is a satisfying novel that left me sufficiently interested in Petrovich to make me want to read the next installment.

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