Against the Odds
(The Serrano Legacy #7)

Elizabeth Moon

Riverdale: Baen, 2000. ISBN: 0-671-31850-0. Pp. 529

Review © 2007 Branislav L. Slantchev

I whined quite a bit about the previous installment in this series, mostly about it reading like a hasty infodump prequel to the real story that I supposed was going to be in the novel to follow. This one. As it turns out, Moon has managed to both satisfy and infuriate me yet again. On one hand, the novel does explore the mutiny in the Regular Space Service and the thoroughly confused political situation in the Familias Regnant after the assassination of its head of state by an agent of the Benignity. There is also some half-hearted discussion of the social problems caused by rejuvenation (near immortality to those rich enough and powerful enough to afford it). There is even something of a story about Miranda, Brun's mother, after her killing of the person who had ordered her husband's death and then had the gall to pursue her romantically. Naturally, there's the love-struck Esmay shuffling back and forth in anticipation of getting laid by her hubby, the somewhat competent Barin Serrano. On the other hand, all of this is mostly fluff.

That's right. While Moon did write about all the interesting stuff her last novel suggested was coming, I do not think the narrative comes even close to fulfilling the story potential. Everything is resolve: the mutiny is suppressed, the ancient enmity between the Serranos and the Suizas is set aside (at least for the time being), Brun matures (with an astonishingly quick decision to swear never to rejuvenate in order to accept the leadership of her sept), Esmay is reinstated and has yet another glorious adventure, there's even a beginning of a political reform designed to deal with the implications of rejuvenation, and so on. And yet all these neat resolutions are so artificial, so contrived, and so impossible to swallow that I cannot rid myself of the feeling that Moon was simply tired of the series and has resolved to kill them by boring us to tears.

Take, for example, the absolutely incredible admission by the Benignity that their head of state was responsible for the assassination. They took responsibility and had the culprit killed for his trouble. And yet, what diplomatic score was this admission supposed to achieve? Do they really think that the Familias would be more receptive to their fears of the expansion driven by rejuvenation? That they would be more accommodating? Or was it just the easy way out that would allow Moon not to have to deal with the fallout for Brun's sept that would have inevitably come at the heels of an all-too-probable conspiracy that her enemies would have welcomed as an explanation? And does the Benignity really think that getting Admiral Livadhi to defect with an entire R.S.S. cruiser was going to endear them to the Familias? And why wouldn't they use the opportunity to invade Familias space? Or, even better, help the Familias suppress the mutiny thereby earning some gratitude?

The other subplots make no more sense. Take Lady Cecelia and Miranda's "adventures." So the cool Miranda sort of confesses to Cecelia that she did kill her husband's murderer. The latter suggests they take a long vacation. Okay, perhaps not entirely unreasonable. Then their yacht is dumped out of FTL transit because it passes too close to another ship. Yes, you read that right. Too close to another ship in space. Do you realize just how improbable something like this is? Of course, it's a mutineer. Naturally, it's the flagship. For some really unfathomable reason, the mutineers do not blow our ladies' ship out of space. Instead, they turn the two into janitors. Then a bunch of people armed with nothing but brooms manage to effect a successful escape but not before disabling said ship! Moon does dispatch Miranda into a hero's death just to make sure her presence would not inconvenience the rest of the story.

At this point, I have entirely given up on Moon giving us anything remotely intriguing when it comes to Esmay Suiza or Heris Serrano, the two characters that held so much promise earlier in the series. Esmay, dismissed by an unseen Admiral Serrano (whose identity we never do learn), romps around on a trader ship and cries a but in bathrooms but in the end gets to command her own ship, as a mere lieutenant, no less. Serrano is back in command and, as befits the name, almost finds herself in the thick of a battle avoided only by her opponent committing suicide. Nothing much going on here unless you want to read in detail about how the most expensive tailoring company fit Esmay's new uniforms. The one possible breath of fresh air was Barin Serrano who nearly gets himself killed during damage control of his ship. I thought Moon could have milked the perspective a bit more: it's not every day that you read about a space battle from the viewpoint of a guy who does not even know whether anything is shooting at them until he is called to fix some hull breach. But no.

To top it all off, with the possible exception of the last 100 pages or so, Moon has reverted to the unnerving unfocused narrative that gave me so much trouble the first time I read her stuff. The problem is that she neglects to give the read enough context to interpret the dialogue or the action properly. (Weber is usually guilty of the other extreme but at least you can never blame him for confusing the readers.) It is as if Moon herself is in some character's head and has all the knowledge that being there entails but she never deigns to let us in. Instead we get glimpses of things here and there, a shard of sentence or two, and then a flurry of detail on something that is usually quite peripheral to the story. She does straighten out when things move a bit and there's some action to report. Unfortunately, most characters wander about in a narrative daze with nothing much to do, and Moon, having hundreds of pages to full under contract with Baen, has to inundate us with words about nothing in particular. No wonder there's little that makes sense.

This is not to say that there are no inspired moments. As I said, the last 100 pages or so are quite fun. I was also quite partial to the romance between the Terakian captain Goonar and the aging but still beautiful singer Bethya. But most of the rest is entirely forgettable. The "solution" to the rejuv problem is just wishful thinking. Opening the franchise? To what end? There are still going to be a lot of effectively immortal people with obscene amounts of resources at their disposal. Are they going to go quietly into the night to make way for the upcoming youths, soon to be immortal themselves? I gather the Benignity is right: unless rejuv is abandoned altogether, the Familias will be committed to a policy of expansion because only that can guarantee everybody a chance to achieve a position of eminence while his seniors fails to age gracefully. That or some sort of population control. Knowing people, I find it hard to believe that they would willingly give up on such long lives. (This, by the way, is something Weber never quite dealt with either: in the Honorverse prolog functions much as rejuv here except maybe that it does not lead to near immortality, just exceptionally long lives.)

Although I was disappointed a bit with this one, I think I have enough curiosity left in me to go back and read the first three novels. You know, the ones I missed by jumping straight into the first Esmay novel. I think I want to know more about Heris Serrano.

March 17, 2007