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Grimmer Than Hell

For the interstellar soldiers of the fleet, war will still just be diplomacy by other means

*Grimmer Than Hell
*By David Drake
*Baen Books
*Hardcover, Feb. 2003
*373 pages
*ISBN: 0-7434-3590-7
*MSRP: $23.00

Review by Paul Di Filippo

A s David Drake explains in his introduction to this collection of 14 stories (the majority of them centered around future wars), he does write across a number of genres, but has assembled this collection specifically to reflect what he's best known for: his hardcore military tales.

Our Pick: B

The first six stories form a mini-novel of sorts, set in the shared-world series known as "The Fleet." Following the exploits of an interstellar Marine Reaction Company led by one Capt. Nick Kowacs, the stories chart the war with the Khalian aliens known colloquially as Weasels, from midpoint of the conflict to peace and beyond. In "Rescue Mission," one high-level human captive triggers a suicidal foray deep into Weasel territory. "When the Devil Drives" finds Kowacs reluctantly aiding a superior officer in charge of human renegades. Freefalling from a wounded transport, Kowacs and crew drop into a dangerously unknown setup in "Team Effort." "The End" signals a truce with the Weasels and details how soldiers deal with peace. Postwar, hidden conspiracies emerge that call for Kowacs and his soldiers to submit to an experimental form of transportation in "Smash and Grab." And in "Mission Accomplished," Nick and crew go out in a blaze of glory on what just might be their final assignment.

The next two stories—"Facing the Enemy" and "Failure Mode"—posit a different foe (the chitinous Ichton) and a new hero, Scout Boat Captain Dresser. In the first piece, Dresser must literally become the enemy, while in its sequel a dead planet holds clues to the Ichtons' means of conquest—if Dresser can ride herd on the quarreling scientists in his charge. The next three stories are standalones. In "The Tradesmen," set in the "Draka" universe of S.M. Stirling, a crippled officer supervising local mercenaries in a conquest of Russia finds that the human tools he employs have a way of performing different tasks than they are set. "Coming Up Against It," original to this volume, details an interhuman conflict complicated by the appearance of an armored Throg, big as a tank. The only fantasy in this volume, "With the Sword He Must Be Slain," finds our soldier protagonist employed literally by hell to wage war against the Almighty.

The final trio of stories revolves around Jed Lacey. In a 1984-style world where surveillance is omnipresent, Lacey is a member of the Crime Services, charged with tracking down perps through database manipulation—and dirtier means. In "Nation Without Walls," Lacey finds that the national Security Police are plotting a coup, and he must examine where his ultimate loyalties lie. "The Predators" deals with a simple one-on-one murder, but a crime conducted with particular subtlety. Finally, in "Underground," we see the underbelly of Lacey's world, as he is sent below the urban streets to rout out the subterranean criminals who threaten the surveillance society.

No heroes, just survivors

Science fiction has concerned itself with matters of war since before the genre even had a name. With the arrival of Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers (1959), however, a certain set of tropes and a certain hard-nosed, realpolitik attitude crystallized, influencing all military SF that was to follow. Today, many writers mine the vein first brought to light by Heinlein, and Drake—a knowledgeable Vietnam veteran—is generally deemed to be one of the best of this set.

When Drake is really switched on, as in the first six stories, he presents slam-bang action in tight, lean prose. His stories hit the ground running and never really stop for contemplative moments. The most backstory we get on, say, Kowacs is a single sentence in "Rescue Mission" that informs us of his grudge against the Weasels for killing his family. Of course, the characters of Kowacs and the more detailed of his subordinates come out in their actions, but Drake is not one for introspection and analysis. Action is character in Drake's universe, and we can tell precisely what kind of soldier we're dealing with by how he reacts to bad decisions from above ("When the Devil Drives") or the chaos of the unexpected ("Team Effort").

The stories that have a larger framework—the first six and the last three—are generally the strongest in the book, with one exception, noted below. The Dresser tales and the newest piece all suffer from a kind of generic shoot-'em-up background. The fantasy story, though it twists the knife nicely in its ending, suffers from the botched nature of the assault on heaven, which is anticlimactic. Interestingly enough, the boldest, most impactful standalone piece, "The Tradesmen," is one in which not a shot is fired. The unadorned recounting of atrocities, the combination of naive and jaded characters, and the O. Henry ending make this one you won't forget.

The dystopian trilogy that closes this volume is formed of some of the earliest stories Drake had published (he began his career in earnest in 1974, and "Nation Without Walls" dates from 1977), and it's a caustic, black-edged Galaxy-style inferno. The state Lacey works for is utterly reprehensible, and he's no angel himself. He's a former rapist psychologically reconditioned to be a cop, and the cases he handles involve no good guys, just varying degrees of evil. With a whiff of the paranoia of Philip K. Dick's "Minority Report," this trio reads like Orwell filtered through David Goodis.

David Drake's thesis might be rendered thusly: postmodern, cybernetic warfare is nearly too fast and complex for humans, yet we continue to be the soft squishy kernel inside all the armor—and sometimes a tendril of hopeful green can sprout from between the joints. — Paul

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Also in this issue: Altered Carbon, by Richard K. Morgan




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