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Terminal Cafe | Brightness Reef


Terminal Cafe

The dead live, love and drink latte with the living

Terminal Cafe cover

  • by Ian McDonald
  • Bantam/Spectra
  • $5.99 paperback
  • Available in stores now
  • Hardcover release November 1994


    Reviewed by L.R.C. Munro

    In Ian McDonald's dark and glittery future, nanotechnology makes possible the resurrection of the dead, not as mindless zombies but as persons, complex and sentient, if not quite equal under the law. The price of immortality is high -- for most, a near eternity of indentured servitude to pay for the resurrection; a cutting of emotional ties to the living; and, perhaps harshest of all, the knowledge that one is no longer considered to be human. Yet few refuse the chance to be remade young and beautiful forever and so, serving the living by day and segregated into Necrovilles by night, the society of the dead grows into something unique. Only on one night of the year can the living and the dead mix freely after dark, and on this night Santiago Columbar invites his four old friends to meet him at the Terminal Cafe, a place on the dividing line between the two solitudes.

    The book follows the paths each of the five friends take to the final meeting place at the Terminal Cafe, as they make their way across a landscape that challenges each of them to face their deepest fears. At the same time, it becomes clear that more than just the lives of a few individuals will be changed on this particular Night of the Dead -- forces political, social and supernatural seem to be heading for a confrontation that will irrevocably alter the relationships between the living and the dead.

    Terminal Cafe achieves a dark and evocative blend of style and substance. There is a definite gothic/tech/punk ambiance here, as exotic and richly alien as any far future story should be, but McDonald never gets lost in his style -- no gratuitous tech for tech's sake -- everything arises organically out of the book's central premise.

    The action is hard-edged, fast-paced and violent. Imagine an evening's sport where the dead hunt each other and hunters become the hunted halfway through the night. Imagine what happens when the tiny "tectors" that rebuild the cells of the dead go wrong en masse. McDonald's imagery is often graphic and uncompromising, but just as often hauntingly beautiful. The emotional action pulls no punches either. The five friends have some very human flaws, and not all of them are nice people. Their relationships are complex and difficult, full of both joy and pain.

    But ultimately what makes the book satisfying is the way McDonald addresses the implications of a technology that can change the one sure and constant limitation of the human race: death. A lot of questions are raised: Who are the resurrected dead and what do they mean to the living? What is death if it's no longer just the end of life? What is the meaning of the brief span of life when compared to the eternity of living death? All these questions are illustrated, not as dry philosophical treatises, but by the impact they have on the lives of the individuals in the story.

    Terminal Cafe is pretty close to my idea of the perfect science fiction novel -- exciting idea, exotic setting, compelling characters with moving stories and beautiful, masterful writing. -- L.R.C.

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    Brightness Reef

    David Brin returns to his Uplift universe with an exciting but complex novel.

    Brightness Reef cover art

  • by David Brin
  • Bantam Spectra
  • $22.95/$31.95 Canada (hardcover)
  • Available in stores now


    Reviewed by Brooks Peck

    The planet Jijo is supposed to be abandoned, lying fallow for a million years or so by decree of the galactic civilizations that monitor and manage every life-bearing world in the Five Galaxies. But over the last few thousand years no fewer than six different alien groups have snuck to Jijo and established illicit colonies there. The most recent refugees are humans who arrived three hundred years ago. In order to avoid detection, these people -- collectively known as "the Six" -- have rejected all advanced technology and now live in a pre-industrial state. They hide their buildings under camouflage netting and live in terrible fear of discovery by the Galactics.

    This fear taps into one of the most interesting conventions of Brin's Uplift novels (43K GIF and biliography), that of racial action and blame. None of the Six really expect to be discovered for thousands of years, but they work diligently to minimize their impact on Jijo so that their descendants will hopefully not be so severely punished for the crimes of the current inhabitants. No one truly knows why their ancestors came to Jijo, but this rejection of technology has become the Six's religion. Fanatics see their mission as a progressive retreat from intelligence, gradually devolving generation by generation until they are no longer sentient, thus erasing their ancestors' crimes. Others, particularly most humans, simply want to live out their lives. Into this complex mix of races and creeds drops a startship. The Jijoan's worst nightmare has begun, and yet discovery brings completely unexpected consequences.

    Book One of a New Uplift Trilogy

    Be warned that Brightness Reef can hardly be considered a novel. It simply stops, and the reader is left hanging until the sequel is published. Brin spends quite a while warming up, introducing many characters (some who never return, at least not in this book), their lives and problems. The central conflict doesn't emerge until page 177. After that, though, the pace picks up, and by the end things move along quite well, with plenty of action and suspense.

    Jijo's society of coexisting aliens is wonderfully detailed (for help distinguishing the races, look in the back of the book for an illustration that was supposed to be printed at the front). How these diverse peoples have come to live together and cope with each other's various anatomies, ideals -- and smells -- is very well thought out. There's not as much of the dizzying, frantic creativity found in Startide Rising, but conversely Jijo is more logical and more believable. This careful attention redeems the length of the novel somewhat.

    Although initially quite a slog, your patience will be rewarded, especially if you're an Uplift fan. -- Brooks

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