The U.S. government in the Marq'ssan Cycle operates under an "executive system," a bizarre arrangement whereby powerful men are castrated to prevent them from being distracted by sexual concerns. Their female counterparts, meanwhile, confine themselves to having affairs with women from the working class. Children in this system are produced by contract, and working executive women accept that they will always be subservient to the "fixed" males. Longevity technology adds another wrinkle to this peculiar setup, allowing executives to extend their working lives for decades while seeming to remain—physically—in their prime.

The Security Service is operated by Elizabeth Weatherall, a ruthless executive whose career ambitions are thwarted by the fact that she is the intelligence chief in fact only: On paper, she is merely the personal assistant to the real power, a deranged alcoholic named Robert Sedgwick. Elizabeth, therefore, alternates between political maneuvering and babysitting the boss. Unfortunately, the delicate house of cards her career is built upon is starting to tremble, as powerful men in Washington tire of dealing with her ... and Sedgwick, meanwhile, is becoming more unstable and violent by the day.

A clash of idealism with human frailty

Readers familiar with Duchamp's work will not be surprised to find that Tsunami is a thoughtful and intensely political book. The human exercise of power is its chief concern, and this plays out on a variety of stages: in a prison where human-rights activists are being humiliated and tortured, in the careful workings of the Free Zone Cooperative, in offices, embassies, classrooms and even campgrounds. Duchamp's powerful use of language and her gift for creating unforgettable and complex characters make this novel a dark and suspenseful read.

That does not mean Tsunami is a dry political tome, however—the author's sense of irony and her unflinching understanding of human nature add much-needed wryness (and an occasional flash of romance) to the mix. Readers will enjoy watching anarchist Martha Greenglass as she butts heads with people who insist on treating her as a head of state ... despite her insistence that the Free Zone has no government. Accepting that she may on some level have morphed into a politician is all but impossible for her to absorb. Absorb it she must, however, for Security is hard at work on a plan to discredit her.

It is perhaps unfortunate that, in a book filled with vastly more sympathetic characters, Robert Sedgwick continues to steal the show. Sedgwick and Elizabeth's storyline is the most compelling of this novel's interwoven threads: Their impossibly ugly relationship is as fascinating as it is abhorrent. As for the Marq'ssan—the aliens who started the U.S. down the road to change in Alanya to Alanya—they are almost invisible in this book. Confining their activities to offering aid to the Free Zone from the sidelines and occasionally asking pertinent questions of Martha when her path becomes unclear, they are otherwise sensibly content to let humanity do its own growing up. Whether that will happen remains a question ... one Duchamp will no doubt tackle masterfully in the final two installments of this cycle.