Kalmar and Dera are at the top of their respective competitive circles, and it is widely expected that their children, should they marry, will be prodigies. Unfortunately, time has run out on their anonymous overseers' experiment. In their initial assessment, humanity did not measure up to the aliens' unstated standards; now they are taking a second look, and if they do not like what they find, humans—both on Elom and on Earth—may be wiped out. Kalmar and Dera, along with half a dozen of their peers—are therefore taken not to the marriage bed, but to face judgment on behalf of all their people.

Naturally, even the cream of Earth's artificially engineered crop is not without its flaws. Kalmar is something of a boaster, while Dera bears a deforming birthmark that has caused her to become reclusive, even withdrawn. Since they do not know the criteria upon which they are to be judged, they can only wonder if the mating program has succeeded—or whether their various emotional weaknesses will bring doom to everyone they love.

Romance blooms among teen heroes

Former politician William H. Drinkard proceeds from a rigorously logical premise in Elom: If aliens do visit Earth and abduct people, as some believe, it is reasonable to assume this practice predates modern times—and that it has a reason. As it becomes obvious that the transplanted nomads are single-mindedly pursuing optimal genetic traits—a perfected humanity, essentially—readers will be eager to discover the true point of the alien experiment.

Drinkard spices up this quest for answers with plenty of adventure and romance. The sexual tension between his youthful principal characters serves to break up a narrative that otherwise has the feel of a lengthy museum tour. The story's action moves from one fantastic locale to another, and each change of scene is accompanied by a careful unveiling of some small piece of the aliens' master plan. The sexual antics provide distraction, but this is not a book whose approach to character is either deep or subtle. The people in Elom have been drawn with bold strokes; their romantic follies are entertaining, but they are far from unforgettable.

Outside the bedroom, Elom grapples with big questions—life's purpose, whether humanity is inherently self-destructive, and the high cost of any quest for genetic perfection. It is an ambitious first novel, and this writer's compassion for his characters, in all their imperfection, gives it a general tone of goodwill. This optimistic note brings the book to a surprisingly pleasant conclusion.