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Northworld Trilogy
Can one man succeed where entire fleets have failed?
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Northworld Trilogy
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By David Drake
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Baen Books
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$6.99/$9.99 Canada
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Paperback, April 1999
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ISBN 0-671-57787-5
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Review by A.M. Dellamonica
 ommissioner Nils Hansen is a policeman when Northworld Trilogy opens, very possibly the most deadly peace officer in the Consensus of Worlds. Head of a special unit assigned to subdue the best-armed criminals in his society, Hansen is tough, ruthless and completely devoted to duty. Though preserving the lives of his subordinates is of crucial importance to Hansen, the job comes first--no matter how high the body count gets.
It is this combination of ruthlessness and devotion that brings Hansen to the notice of the inhuman leadership of the Consensus. Those leaders have already lost not one but three spacefleets to a spatial anomaly near a planet known as Northworld, and, having failed with sheer might, they are determined to try a fourth, subtler approach. Hansen is armed to the teeth and pointed straight at the space that has already swallowed so many.
Expecting no more than a sudden death, Hansen gets far more, finding himself cast into a mysterious and complex web of environments and societies. Northworld, it turns out, lies in the heart of the Matrix, a collection of dimensions and simultaneously co-existing worlds, all controlled by godlike beings who are the altered survivors of an early survey expedition. Led by a one-eyed madman named North, the gods drive the populations of the various worlds to constant warfare, harvesting the souls of dead warriors as an investment against an invasion of the Matrix itself.
Hansen becomes attached to the people of a community called Peace Rock and makes plans to end the ceaseless fighting. In doing so, he provokes the volatile North and the other gods to oppose him.
Gods against mortals
David Drake based the stories in this trilogy on the Poetic Edda, epic poems about the Norse pantheon, with North cast as Odin himself. This use of myth gives Northworld Trilogy a raw power that is, at times, breathtaking. The people in Northworld have an inhuman brutality, which imparts a sense of the terror of the medieval era. Despite high-tech trappings such as artificially intelligent armor and electronic flying mounts, there is a sense of the primitive at work in Drake's fiction.
As a protagonist, Nils Hansen is suitably complex. Though never truly likable--he kills far too many people for that to be possible--it is easy to believe in the positive aspects of his character. His tactical brilliance, devotion to duty, and the pain he feels when those under him die in battle are all rendered well. Hansen is outclassed in every fight, and there is a delicious anticipation in seeing how he will pull himself out of the latest escapade. Because of this, Northworld Trilogy offers strong appeal to readers of military SF and action-adventure fiction. It will also hook readers with an interest in the Norse myths on which the stories are based.
Like Hansen himself, though, the series has some serious weaknesses. The female characters are the most glaring problem; though there are many of them, they are all completely one-dimensional. Most women in Northworld exist either to seduce Hansen or be rejected by him. The rest are victims of either men's violence or that of the gods. Since the male characters are primarily warriors, readers are given only a very narrow slice of humanity with which to empathize.
For readers with an appetite for combat, though, Northworld Trilogy is a four-course meal.
The battle scenes in this were cinematic and gripping, and the mythic plotting was satisfying.
-- A.M.
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A Boy and His Tank
The Serbs and Croats head into space
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A Boy and His Tank
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By Leo Frankowski
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Baen Books
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$21.00
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Hardcover, March 1999
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ISBN 0-671-57796-4
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Review by Mark H. Walker
 t's the year 2162 and the Serbs and the Croats are at it again. More precisely, they are still at it. Of course, science fiction being what it is, humankind has moved from its neighborhood of birth and swept into the stars, bringing the battles formerly confined to the Balkans with it.
The humans on mother Earth have doled out discovered planets as prizes to various nations and ethnic groups. As luck would have it, the Serbs and Croats are issued the same planet. (Doesn't anyone ever learn anything?) Soon the long-time enemies are at it again. Or at least they want to be.
There is, however, a snag. Neither side has the training, weapons or industrial capability to wage war. But they do have money, and that's where a boy, his tank, and his Kashubian brethren enter the picture. The Kashubians received the short end of the planet allocation stick. They live beneath the surface of what is a basic solid-metal rock.
Luckily they discover a stash of war supplies. Being an ingenious lot, they figure that tanks plus customers equals money. All the Kashubians need are the troops to run their armored beasts.
Enter Mickolai Derdowski (a.k.a. the tank boy). Mick has committed the heinous crime of impregnating his girlfriend, Kashia, and accordingly is sentenced to serve in the Kashubian mercenary force. Mated with a cybertank capable of creating dream worlds that make Star Trek's holodeck look like a cheap video game, Mick has to deal with the tank's beautiful alter ego, a war with the Serbs, and a girlfriend in the next tank over.
Too much pontification, too little plot
A Boy And His Tank is halting at best, deadly dull at worst. Author Leo Frankowski spends too much time either explaining the history of his universe or preaching on the moral issues that interest him. The first quarter of the book is nothing more than window-dressing to prop the subsequent action. There is page upon page of Kashubian history, Mick's personal history, the history of history, and the history of... well, you get the idea. Frankowski's preaching--for instance, a diatribe on the wrongs of technology run amuck--is often the reader's only respite. Unfortunately, he tackles most of these issues with the subtlety of a freight train.
The action is little better. Never has the life-and-death drama of combat been treated so impersonally. Whereas masters like David Drake or David Weber drag readers screaming into battle, Frankowski leaves them on the outside looking in. Mick describes his battles, Mick tells about his battles, but readers never feel like they are part of the battle. There is no breathless waiting for the first shot and no heart-pounding tension of uncertainty, only the droning of Mick's narration.
On the other hand, Mick's tank is a pleasant diversion. The idea of a tank portrayed as a lecherous, pouty woman is worth a grin. The tank likes Mick and her attempts (often successful) to seduce him help lighten the otherwise monotonous chapters.
Nevertheless, a lecherous tank cannot a book make. A Boy And His Tank feels more like an impressionistic painting than a novel--it just sits there, without movement. The pontification is ponderous and the action is lame. This is one military adventure that misses the mark.
Not a very good book. Hey, we all have opinions, but no one likes to have the other person's shoved down his throat.
-- Mark
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