Our protagonist is a man named John deBrun. A simple fisherman with wife and son, deBrun remembers nothing of his life prior to 27 years ago. So he is unaware that he is in reality a 400-year-old survivor of the first colonists, kept alive by nanotech, his memory excised on purpose to escape recalling dreadful circumstances.
When the Azteca shatter the long stalemate and invade the peaceful lands where deBrun lives, he is captured and separated from his family. Rescued by an Azteca turncoat named Oaxyctl, who is in reality a double agent and still working for the Teotl, deBrun embarks on an odyssey across Nanagada that will restore his memory, but at a high price. After making his dangerous and desperate way to Capitol City, deBrun learns that the world's last starship remains intact, buried under arctic ice, and that only he can resurrect it as a weapon against the Azteca. deBrun sets out in a schooner-cum-snowtank with a choice crew that happens to contain Oaxyctl and other spies, as well as a mysterious superhuman named Pepper, who claims to know deBrun from his other lifetime. Amid the polar wastes, all the opposed forces—including a savage Teotl—battle for control of the pivotal artifact—while Capitol City struggles to withstand the Azteca siege.
A fresh cultural breeze
The formula for Buckell's adroit debut novel is well worn: a devolved planet; odd, syncretic cultures in conflict; remnants of super-technology; a tenuous but relevant link to a larger interstellar sphere. Jack Vance or Andre Norton or Hal Clement could provide us with numerous examples. And I'm particularly reminded here of Vernor Vinge's Tatja Grimm's World (1987, and recently reissued). But Buckell proves that any template, no matter how well handled, can be infused with new life and excitement.
The main infusion of novelty and vigor comes from the Creole culture that Buckell (himself born and raised in the Caribbean) depicts with loving detail. From the simple village life enjoyed by deBrun to the political machinations of Capitol City, where Prime Minister Dihana and her general, Edward Haidan, strive to govern and protect, this portrait of a nation is a refreshing acknowledgement of the width and depth of our contemporary Earth. The speech patterns of the natives are lively and colorful, making all the dialogue flavorful as well as informative and revealing and letting the souls of the characters radiate.
Buckell's alien races and their bubbling-under warfare ring true as well, and he gets a lot of frissons out of the way the aliens have used the humans as their cat's-paws. When the humans begin to pay back the aliens a bit, the satisfactions for the reader are manifold. The plight of deBrun and Pepper, sophisticated galactic citizens stranded on this backwater, comes across vividly as well. (Buckell is still dropping little time bombs of galactic backstory in Chapter 72, to good effect.) His plotting is sturdy and swift, with nary a longueur.
Lastly, Buckell's affection for certain old tropes—escape by airship, mutiny at sea, battles in ancient sewers and so forth—comes brightly into play. Logically buttressed by the environment he's worked out, these genre hijinks shine forth as fresh as they must have when first minted.
For a thrilling adventure set on a unique world, this book couldn't be bettered.
Critics are bound to lump Buckell with Nalo Hopkinson, another SF writer who brings a multicultural approach to the genre. But such affiliations, while germane, are swamped by the larger allegiances of both authors to good writing and sharp speculations. —Paul
