n Hominids, Neanderthal physicist Ponter Bobbit used a quantum computer to open a portal to a parallel universe. In that universe, humans, not Neanderthals, became the dominant intelligent species on the planet some 40,000 years ago. That parallel universe was, of course, our world.
In this sequel to Hominids, Ponter convinces his people to reopen the portal to our world for purposes of scientific and cultural enrichment. So back he goes to Earth, along with a Neanderthal ambassador, who has a very hard time adjusting to the human political milieu of saying much but communicating little. The Neanderthals are happy to share their discoveries in artificial intelligence, genetics and other areas where they excel. They hope that humanity will reciprocate with some of its specialized knowledge, especially in rocketry and space travel.
Ponter's motives are genuine, but he's also eager to revisit his favorite Homo sapiens sapiens, geneticist Mary Vaughn. Vaughn is just as eager to see him, but their renewed relationship is buffeted by ghosts from their pasts. Ponter is still dealing with the death of his wife two years earlier, and the effect of that event on him and his children. Mary's problems are even more serious: She was recently raped, and it appears that the rapist is again on the prowl.
The hardest questions are asked too late
Sawyer's careful imagining of Neanderthal culture—a technological hunter/gatherer society—is an impressive achievement and makes for some fascinating, tantalizing reading. At first, the Neanderthal world seems outrageously perfect: pollution-free, crime-free and ecologically harmonious. Their society seems a techno-Eden, where the Neanderthals never made the mistakes we have. Ponter can't resist pointing this out, often declaiming against our faults in grand homilies that evoke Klaatu's sanctimonious scoldings in The Day the Earth Stood Still.
But the Neanderthals' garden planet stands on a less-than-perfect foundation: Namely, eugenics to weed out undesirables and an Orwellian system of universal surveillance. Would it be worth it? That's the question Sawyer asks. Peace, harmony, social justice—would we humans give up our privacy, and our right to reproduce the way we want, to have these things? It's a thought-provoking question in the tradition of great social science fiction.
What's a little frustrating, though, is the novel's structure. After hundreds of pages of touring Earth and Neandertopia, seeing the sights and eating the food—which is interesting, but not overly dramatic—after 350 pages, something quite serious happens. It's a big deal, forcing Ponter and Mary to analyze their societies and weigh the merits of how each deals with its problems.
And Humans ends 10 pages later. Just like that. Had the kicker come sooner, the characters could have spent a lot more time—a novel's worth of time—exploring the consequences. Because that's where the meat of this speculation lies, and Neanderthals love their meat.
