No one knows this better than Van Humphries, the weak and unloved second son of rapacious conglomerate head Martin Humphries. When his beloved brother, Alex, died on a doomed expedition to Earth's torrid sister planet, Van lost part of himself. So Martin's announcement of a $10 billion reward for Alex's recovered remains, together with a sudden end to Van's stipend, jolts Van into unaccustomed action. He mounts his own Venus mission.
Van's irresolution and lack of training, combined with a banshee captain imposed by his interfering father, make Van feel like a third wheel on his own ship. But things change drastically as he and his crew enter Venus's acid-cloud atmosphere and discover bizarre microorganisms living there. This galaxy-rocking discovery turns calamitous as the crew realizes these creatures are eating the hull. They fights in vain to save the ship, and end up having to try a dangerous transfer to the other ship vying for the prize--the Lucifer, run by Lars Fuchs, the sworn enemy of Van's father.
Enjoying the chance to humble his enemy's son, Fuchs plays Van against the Lucifer's cutthroat crew, letting them think he's a spy in order to draw out a mutiny plot. The uprising leaves the Lucifer short-handed, however, and Fuchs is forced to depend on Van. As the mission runs out of time, Van finds himself piloting Fuchs's specially rigged shuttle into infernal canyons strewn with the wreckage of his brother's ship, wondering whether anyone can make it out of hell alive.
The hostile world next door
One way to facilitate character development in the course of a novel is to start out with a remarkably weak, almost pathetic, character, then thrust him into situations that will inevitably require him to find courage and resourcefulness. Feeble playboy wannabe Van Humphries certainly falls into this category; his initial unattractiveness is offset mainly by the repulsiveness of his father and the sanctity of his dead brother. As if encumbered by Van's limitations, author Ben Bova bolsters his automatic hero-making machine by carefully eliminating--by tragic death or illness--anyone more self-possessed than the protagonist.
Many of the secondary characters in Venus are colorful and fun to read about: Captain Duchamp, the efficient martinet, for example, or Bahadur, the fiery instigator aboard Lucifer. They come and go like phosphorescent flames, leaving flickering afterimages on the mind's eye. Their vibrancy reflects badly on the pallid survivors, but seems fitting in a story of a world whose very surface glows with incandescence. Fuchs is the most complex and evocative, and his grudging, mutual-need relationship with Van has interesting textures.
Though the book shows signs of being written quickly (for example, two distinct areas on Van's cramped ship are described as "the only place" where a group can gather), its narrative is lively and richly spiced by Venus's naturally terrifying atmosphere and landscape. In fact the experience of descending deeper into the hellhole is the main reason to read this book. Perhaps Van's weakness is an asset here: Readers can all the more easily displace him and make the journey themselves into the hostile and deadly world next door.
From the beginning, nearby Mars has excited the imagination. But I think Venus--so exotic, so dangerous--is much more compelling, its perils more vitally real than many an invented hostile planet. Bova has handled the allure of Venus just right. -- Mark
