ince her debut in 1995 with Primary Inversion, Catherine Asaro has written a total of eight books about her Skolian Empire, the sixth of which, The Quantum Rose, won her a Nebula. This latest entry, number nine, is something of a prequel and is dubbed on its cover as "the perfect entry" into the series.
The year is 2203, and a trio of political systems vie for control of the galaxy: the Skolian Imperialate, the Earth Alliance and the Eubian Concord. Our heroine, Roca Skolia, is a princess of the first-named grouping, and we encounter her as she hustles across the galaxy in secret, on the run from her imperious son, named Kurj. Her goal is to reach a convocation of government representatives and vote against starting war with the Eubians—a war her son desires in order to achieve his revenge against the slaveholding Aristos who run the Concord. Roca's zigzag path lands her on Skyfall, a world only newly restored to civilized contact. Five thousand years ago, the Ruby Empire fell—its royalty are Roca's ancestors—and many of their lost colony worlds are still being rediscovered.
On Skyfall, Roca is kidnapped in a gentle fashion by one of the local semi-barbarous leaders named Eldrinson. Like Roca, Eldrinson proves to be a "Ruby psion," one of the specially gifted empaths necessary to support the vital Skolian faster-than-light communications system. Mutually smitten, Roca and Eldri plan nothing more than a quick tumble in bed. But bad weather traps Roca on Skyfall, and their romance deepens to the point where they marry once Roca becomes pregnant.
Meanwhile, back in the empire, Kurj and Roca's parents are hatching war against the Aristos, all the while frantic at Roca's disappearance. Eventually, Kurj—who loves his mother in a complicated realpolitik manner—tracks Roca down to Skyfall and mounts a rescue mission. He arrives just as Eldri and Roca are battling an assault from Eldri's rival lord. Intervening, Kurj soon whisks Roca away, leaving Eldri mourning for his once and future bride and his just-born heir. The unfolding events after this climactic moment concern war, love and the future of the empire.
Romance plus SF equals devoted readership
Catherine Asaro's inspired stroke in crafting her Skolian saga was to realize that an SF setting could function as the backdrop for a genre romance novel just as easily as could the Scottish highlands or the deck of a pirate ship. By fusing tropes from both genres, much in the manner of the science-fiction mystery, she would end up with a hybrid that possessed a special vigor and allure that neither of its parents held in full. Although I've read only Primary Inversion and this latest entry, I believe that she has not deviated from this formula since its inception, except perhaps in her non-Skolian works. That The Quantum Rose also picked up an award from The Romantic Times Book Club should be evidence enough. C.J. Cherryh attempted something of this in her early years, until her anthropological minutiae and convoluted interspecies machinations ended up throttling any love affairs.
As a hybrid product, Asaro's space operas do just enough science-fictional stuff to maintain credibility and a veneer of speculative content. The ancient vanished empires, the psions, the lost colony worlds, the evil slaveholders, the cruel, obsessed military man—all these trappings could have been found in a Leigh Brackett Planet Stories adventure. But, old as they are, in Asaro's hands they do retain some measure of their essential sense-of-wonder attractiveness. However, to compare her to any of the newest postmodern space operas by such writers as Alistair Reynolds or Iain Banks is inutile.
On the romance front, Asaro has all the bases covered to an equal or perhaps superior degree. Take the matter of our heroine. Not only is Roca one of five special people in the whole universe, a royal scion and diplomat, she's a famous dancer as well. And no mousy beauty either, but an absolute stunner. Even a hard-nosed female spaceship captain whom Roca finds unpleasant (a dreaded lesbian?) sees fit to comment on the awesomeness of Roca's chest. As for Roca's soulmate, Eldri, he rides a unicorn-like steed, owns a beautiful castle, sings in a heavenly manner, and can wield a mean sword—yet is humanized by having epilepsy, meaning Roca can nurse and mother him a bit. As for the plotting of Skyfall (not to be confused with Harry Harrison's 1976 novel of the same name), it's believable and low-key enough, except when Asaro decides to pull out all the stops. Not only does Kurj's rescue mission arrive precisely at the moment when Eldri's castle looks ready to fall, but that's also the instant when Roca goes into labor!
Yet ultimately, by skillfully intercutting the SF moments with the kissy-face cuddlings, Asaro sustains our interest in whether true love will win out over the more brutal aspects of life. And isn't that really the main question we all wonder about in our own lives?
