(Yes, I know I’m behind)
I’m a big fan of the S.C.E. series—not enough to switch to ebooks (and therefore a contributor to its demise, to preempt JWolf), but I consider it one of the flagship series in terms of the quality of the overall book line. Love the characters, love the diverse adventures, etc. This is, unfortunately, the first time I’m reviewing one of these compilations with less than rave opinions. Usually, before getting into individual stories, I make mention of what I like about the stories overall; it’s harder to do here, because I felt the anthology pretty uneven. Generically, I don’t feel there was the same kind of diversity of stories we usually get; despite the variations, most of the stories (other than Creative Couplings) felt cut of similar cloth. The dynamic nature of the DaVinci crew is another feature I often praise which I found lacking across this anthology; not every story is going to change or introduce relationships, obviously, nor should it because there’s no point in shaking up a status quo if there’s no chance to get used to that status quo before the next change-up (I’m looking at you, Marvel universe), but at the same time, there was a sense that the crew, was, for the moment, somewhat static; I certainly don’t feel as though I’ve gotten to know the characters any better, even characters who got a fair amount of ‘screen time’ like Gomez and Corsi. I’m not sure I’m expressing myself the way I’d want to, but S.C.E. has always been marked by episodic adventures bridge by ongoing character arcs, and it doesn’t seem like those arcs got advanced. To that effect, another S.C.E. strength, the give-and-take of the characters that really creates a sense of lived community and the relationships, also seemed largely A.W.O.L. except for Small World. Maybe it was just coincidence that we hit a batch of stories driven more by external plots for this compilation; I don’t know. It just didn’t have the same pep.
Paradise Interrupted, by John S. Drew
Largely decent if unremarkable story. Some of the niggling points here would be the clichéd boy-who-thinks-his-father-doesn’t-love-him aspect of the plot, which could have stood to be trimmed significantly; I don’t think we would have lost anything by having the boy’s fate and the alien entity’s nature remain a mystery longer; to that effect, the parents showing up and making everything right again is a bit of an alienus ex machina. The BOLD, ALLCAPS formatting given to the aliens’ speech got on my nerves very fast. The Gorns’ motivations could also have stood for being fleshed out more; one moment they’re helping Gomez in a cheer-worthy rescue scene; the next, Corsi runs into them and both parties default to shooting each other. The story has a subplot going about Songmin Wong, which is nice except that I don’t really know who he is to begin with and as such the effect is lessened. Obviously, though, one has to start fleshing out a character somewhere, so it’s a bit of a Catch-22. He seems to convey the impression that he only seems himself in Starfleet for a certain amount of time, that his ultimate life goals aren’t quite the same as the rest of the crew, so I would have liked to know why he’s there in the first place (and, by that token, why he doesn’t retire now that he has his own ship, since that’s his eventual plan). Other good touches were the Risan staff, who appeared briefly but from whom you got the clear sense that they were more than just stock characters.
Where Time Stands Still, by Wardilmore
Skipped it. Sequel to a book I’ve not read and an episode I’ve not seen in a timeframe I don’t care for, and as such had no real interest in reading it. Sorry, guys.
The Art of the Deal, by Glen Greenburg
This is a bit of an odd beast. On the on hand, I very much liked the plot, the action, the twists and reveals. Okay, so it was obvious from the start that Portlyn was an asshole and up-to-no-good, we probably could have done with less foreshadowing there since it comes as no surprise when the guy is exposed as thoroughly dirty, but otherwise I enjoyed the competing agendas and the scene with the fighters trying to stop the missile—then Patty leaping from her jet-thing onto it!—was very well rendered and dare I say cinematic. But I kept being jerked out of the story by my incomprehension of the world-building involved.
Maybe it’s just me; maybe everything was explained and I, dunce, missed it… but I was confused about the setting. Are the aliens who live on these planets indigenous or colonists themselves from elsewhere? I couldn’t figure out if they were basically selling off their homeworld , if the Vemlar were a species or polity. I think I’m correct in assuming that all this took place within the same star system (Norvel), but it must be one of those sprawling Serenity-like star systems because it took them almost a day to get from one planet to another? If the species represented here are indigenous, then we’re dealing with multiple sentient species arising within the same star system, yes? It’s not impossible, of course (look at the Xindi, six sentient species on one world), but if the planets are so far apart how are both within the system’s habitable zone? And why is Portlyn bothering to set up headquarters in the system if he previously had a headquarters elsewhere; does he engage in these massive construction projects, let the planet go to seed, and just move to the next? That seems like unwise investments, even for a criminal. And don’t the people on Planet A notice that this guy just spent the last decade trashing Planet B a few orbits over before coming to them, or does the man somehow control all communications and interplanetary travel in the system? Were these warp-enabled cultures in the first place? Why do so many of these aliens have such human sounding names (Rod Portlyn, his henchman Gerard, a revolutionary group that happens to be called Bolivar in their own language…)? At one point, we're told that the DaVinci is the only ship in the area which can deal with the terrorist threat in a timely fashion, but after defeating the Orion mercenary attack and Portlyn calling in false charges, by the time they get back to Vemlar suddenly the Enterprise is already on station.
And what is up with letting Portlyn go at the end? The man’s just attempted genocide twice over, amongst various other crimes. Even if they aren’t in Federation space, a great many of the crimes he committed were against Federation citizens and property; surely he can be brought in and prosecuted for that alone. And even if the Federation is apparently willing to give him a free pass for attempting to destroy one of their starships, his crimes against the (indigenous?) people of that system were heinous; surely they can hold him on behalf of the local governments who would want to try him for attempting to ruin their world. Just letting a monster like that go free is criminally irresponsible.
Spin by the Yorks
I think the best way to describe this one is “short but sweet”, my second-favourite tale in the compilation after Small World. Although like the previous tale it telegraphs the ‘true’ villains almost from the word ‘go’, the brief and rather easily averted peril is not what is interesting in this tale, but rather than ringship and its unusual inhabitants. The narrative makes you care about the engineering challenges of entering and walking about the ship by making it less about the technical issues and more about the attitudes of the people behind the problem-solving; while the Strata are, in almost every way, biological, cultural, etc., original and unexpected lifeforms, fascinating to watch dead and revived. Indeed, my one complaint about this story is that it was too short: I wanted to learn more about this species. Nonetheless, it’s a good, compact story with a well-placed touch of humour.
Creative Couplings by Glenn Hauman and Aaron Rosenberg
This is supposed to be the centerpiece of the compilation, but is, to my recollection, the worst story to have ever gone out under the S.C.E. banner, such a complete turn-off that, until I decided to just start skipping over the wedding plot, the book just lay on the desk untouched because even depressing Victorian social novels had greater appeal than the infantilism of that storyline. The part about Stevens, Tev and the malfunctioning holodeck was enjoyable as far as it went, but the whole My Big Fat Judeo-Klingon Wedding thing was just so excruciating it’s a wonder both plotlines were written by the same people (unless the two authors are actually responsible for different parts of the novella, which, if it’s the case, would go some way towards explaining why I found the two plots of such startlingly different quality).
I’ll start with the good. For involving so few known characters, the Hyperion story was pretty involving. Tev, in particular, shined in this part of the story, with some absolutely classic lines, like when he’s scandalized that the computer won’t recognize his authority. I kind of had the situation sussed out when the first modification was discovered, but maybe I’m just good at figuring out these endings. Anyway, I wish this portion had been longer (had been the entire duology, really); the book guest stars a fairly large group of cadets, but we never really get to know them given their numbers and fleeting participation; sad, because the brief sketches of some of them looked interesting. Similarly, after the first few ‘pranks’ we stop getting details or active involvement in them, which is a shame because I felt those that were described were clever, and the story lost a bit of steam without the actual peril being featured; to a certain extent, the tone might have been a little too light-hearted for the danger they were in, though I certainly did appreciate those humourous moments. I also wonder why nobody came up with the idea of just cutting their way into the holodeck once they thought to contact the outside. From within I’m sure the computer would have prevented it, but a couple of phasers-cum-blowtorchs on the exterior wall and you should be able to get people out.
The interest and levity of this part of the book was welcome, because, boy was there nothing remotely approaching that in the wedding portion. Even setting aside, for the moment, my usual objection to the presence of human religion in the 24th-century context (and I don’t think there’s any way to weasel around its presence in this case; can’t even argue that the ritualistic elements are cultural leftovers since the need or lack thereof for their presence is argued on the basis of scripture), there is nothing attractive in watching a bunch of supposedly mature individuals acting like mewling infants. I could easily sympathize with Gold’s desire to end it all with a phaser, since I was first bored then actively irritated by all these annoyingly petty selfish jealous people and the tantrums they insisted on throwing over ritualistic nonsense. Fortunately, I had an option Gold did not: after such juvenilia degenerated into some kind of pissing contest over lists, I just stopped reading. I was worried that the two storylines might eventually dovetail, but the Hyperion plot resolved on its own, so that was it for me and I moved on to the next story. It’s stories like this, fictional and otherwise, that remind me why I cheer whenever StatsCan or similar groups finds that marriage continues its slow but steady decline; hopefully, by the time the real 24th century comes around, such antiquated institutions will have vanished from our cultural landscape altogether… along with the atavistic religions that spawned them.
Small World by David Mack
This is the best story in the compilation, which shouldn’t be surprising considering it’s from the author of all-time S.C.E. great Wildfire. There are many things that recommend Small World, many of which came as a relief after muddling through the previous entry, not the least being the brisk pacing. Also important is the sense of scale: by which I don’t mean the obvious, startling fact of a planet in a box, but that the story has an epic feel to it, moving an entire world, perfectly complimented by some truly grandiose scenes like the planet emerging before Faulwell, and indeed the entire solar system rearranging itself as the crew watches on; the narrative does a good job conveying the awe of such a sight. The alien species appear only briefly (though I somewhat remember the Koas from Articles), but the brief sketches nonetheless manage to interest one in learning more about these giant, spider-like creatures, or their beauty-oriented pursuers. And of course, one can’t forget the characters: Mack knows his S.C.E. people, and this story marks the return of colourful lower-deck characters like Konya or Vinx in roles that suit them, or even the budding relationship between Abramowitz and Hawkins (which I had completely forgotten about; I don’t think it had been mentioned in this compilation before). The story had a lot of that kind of give and take I felt had been missing from the stories so far; and there’s something about that brainstorming session in the shuttlebay and its multiplicity of voices that just felt so integrally S.C.E. that I felt like applauding. My only issue would be the slipstream thing, which seemed to want for more explanation. How does such a thing form? Was it temporary? DaVinci could have wound up pretty far from home, which doesn't seem like a job for a short-range support ship. That aside, an excellent job all around, one that does, ultimately, leave me looking forward to the next compilation despite the somewhat rocky terrain beforehand. I wonder, for instance, if Gomez and Tev are finally going to have it out soon, particularly given the newest wrinkle in their fraught relationship (Tev misinterpreting Gomez’ aggression for affection). I know we find out more about the Koas, but do we ever hear more of Silgov and their struggle?
Fictitiously yours, Trent Roman
I’m a big fan of the S.C.E. series—not enough to switch to ebooks (and therefore a contributor to its demise, to preempt JWolf), but I consider it one of the flagship series in terms of the quality of the overall book line. Love the characters, love the diverse adventures, etc. This is, unfortunately, the first time I’m reviewing one of these compilations with less than rave opinions. Usually, before getting into individual stories, I make mention of what I like about the stories overall; it’s harder to do here, because I felt the anthology pretty uneven. Generically, I don’t feel there was the same kind of diversity of stories we usually get; despite the variations, most of the stories (other than Creative Couplings) felt cut of similar cloth. The dynamic nature of the DaVinci crew is another feature I often praise which I found lacking across this anthology; not every story is going to change or introduce relationships, obviously, nor should it because there’s no point in shaking up a status quo if there’s no chance to get used to that status quo before the next change-up (I’m looking at you, Marvel universe), but at the same time, there was a sense that the crew, was, for the moment, somewhat static; I certainly don’t feel as though I’ve gotten to know the characters any better, even characters who got a fair amount of ‘screen time’ like Gomez and Corsi. I’m not sure I’m expressing myself the way I’d want to, but S.C.E. has always been marked by episodic adventures bridge by ongoing character arcs, and it doesn’t seem like those arcs got advanced. To that effect, another S.C.E. strength, the give-and-take of the characters that really creates a sense of lived community and the relationships, also seemed largely A.W.O.L. except for Small World. Maybe it was just coincidence that we hit a batch of stories driven more by external plots for this compilation; I don’t know. It just didn’t have the same pep.
Paradise Interrupted, by John S. Drew
Largely decent if unremarkable story. Some of the niggling points here would be the clichéd boy-who-thinks-his-father-doesn’t-love-him aspect of the plot, which could have stood to be trimmed significantly; I don’t think we would have lost anything by having the boy’s fate and the alien entity’s nature remain a mystery longer; to that effect, the parents showing up and making everything right again is a bit of an alienus ex machina. The BOLD, ALLCAPS formatting given to the aliens’ speech got on my nerves very fast. The Gorns’ motivations could also have stood for being fleshed out more; one moment they’re helping Gomez in a cheer-worthy rescue scene; the next, Corsi runs into them and both parties default to shooting each other. The story has a subplot going about Songmin Wong, which is nice except that I don’t really know who he is to begin with and as such the effect is lessened. Obviously, though, one has to start fleshing out a character somewhere, so it’s a bit of a Catch-22. He seems to convey the impression that he only seems himself in Starfleet for a certain amount of time, that his ultimate life goals aren’t quite the same as the rest of the crew, so I would have liked to know why he’s there in the first place (and, by that token, why he doesn’t retire now that he has his own ship, since that’s his eventual plan). Other good touches were the Risan staff, who appeared briefly but from whom you got the clear sense that they were more than just stock characters.
Where Time Stands Still, by Wardilmore
Skipped it. Sequel to a book I’ve not read and an episode I’ve not seen in a timeframe I don’t care for, and as such had no real interest in reading it. Sorry, guys.
The Art of the Deal, by Glen Greenburg
This is a bit of an odd beast. On the on hand, I very much liked the plot, the action, the twists and reveals. Okay, so it was obvious from the start that Portlyn was an asshole and up-to-no-good, we probably could have done with less foreshadowing there since it comes as no surprise when the guy is exposed as thoroughly dirty, but otherwise I enjoyed the competing agendas and the scene with the fighters trying to stop the missile—then Patty leaping from her jet-thing onto it!—was very well rendered and dare I say cinematic. But I kept being jerked out of the story by my incomprehension of the world-building involved.
Maybe it’s just me; maybe everything was explained and I, dunce, missed it… but I was confused about the setting. Are the aliens who live on these planets indigenous or colonists themselves from elsewhere? I couldn’t figure out if they were basically selling off their homeworld , if the Vemlar were a species or polity. I think I’m correct in assuming that all this took place within the same star system (Norvel), but it must be one of those sprawling Serenity-like star systems because it took them almost a day to get from one planet to another? If the species represented here are indigenous, then we’re dealing with multiple sentient species arising within the same star system, yes? It’s not impossible, of course (look at the Xindi, six sentient species on one world), but if the planets are so far apart how are both within the system’s habitable zone? And why is Portlyn bothering to set up headquarters in the system if he previously had a headquarters elsewhere; does he engage in these massive construction projects, let the planet go to seed, and just move to the next? That seems like unwise investments, even for a criminal. And don’t the people on Planet A notice that this guy just spent the last decade trashing Planet B a few orbits over before coming to them, or does the man somehow control all communications and interplanetary travel in the system? Were these warp-enabled cultures in the first place? Why do so many of these aliens have such human sounding names (Rod Portlyn, his henchman Gerard, a revolutionary group that happens to be called Bolivar in their own language…)? At one point, we're told that the DaVinci is the only ship in the area which can deal with the terrorist threat in a timely fashion, but after defeating the Orion mercenary attack and Portlyn calling in false charges, by the time they get back to Vemlar suddenly the Enterprise is already on station.
And what is up with letting Portlyn go at the end? The man’s just attempted genocide twice over, amongst various other crimes. Even if they aren’t in Federation space, a great many of the crimes he committed were against Federation citizens and property; surely he can be brought in and prosecuted for that alone. And even if the Federation is apparently willing to give him a free pass for attempting to destroy one of their starships, his crimes against the (indigenous?) people of that system were heinous; surely they can hold him on behalf of the local governments who would want to try him for attempting to ruin their world. Just letting a monster like that go free is criminally irresponsible.
Spin by the Yorks
I think the best way to describe this one is “short but sweet”, my second-favourite tale in the compilation after Small World. Although like the previous tale it telegraphs the ‘true’ villains almost from the word ‘go’, the brief and rather easily averted peril is not what is interesting in this tale, but rather than ringship and its unusual inhabitants. The narrative makes you care about the engineering challenges of entering and walking about the ship by making it less about the technical issues and more about the attitudes of the people behind the problem-solving; while the Strata are, in almost every way, biological, cultural, etc., original and unexpected lifeforms, fascinating to watch dead and revived. Indeed, my one complaint about this story is that it was too short: I wanted to learn more about this species. Nonetheless, it’s a good, compact story with a well-placed touch of humour.
Creative Couplings by Glenn Hauman and Aaron Rosenberg
This is supposed to be the centerpiece of the compilation, but is, to my recollection, the worst story to have ever gone out under the S.C.E. banner, such a complete turn-off that, until I decided to just start skipping over the wedding plot, the book just lay on the desk untouched because even depressing Victorian social novels had greater appeal than the infantilism of that storyline. The part about Stevens, Tev and the malfunctioning holodeck was enjoyable as far as it went, but the whole My Big Fat Judeo-Klingon Wedding thing was just so excruciating it’s a wonder both plotlines were written by the same people (unless the two authors are actually responsible for different parts of the novella, which, if it’s the case, would go some way towards explaining why I found the two plots of such startlingly different quality).
I’ll start with the good. For involving so few known characters, the Hyperion story was pretty involving. Tev, in particular, shined in this part of the story, with some absolutely classic lines, like when he’s scandalized that the computer won’t recognize his authority. I kind of had the situation sussed out when the first modification was discovered, but maybe I’m just good at figuring out these endings. Anyway, I wish this portion had been longer (had been the entire duology, really); the book guest stars a fairly large group of cadets, but we never really get to know them given their numbers and fleeting participation; sad, because the brief sketches of some of them looked interesting. Similarly, after the first few ‘pranks’ we stop getting details or active involvement in them, which is a shame because I felt those that were described were clever, and the story lost a bit of steam without the actual peril being featured; to a certain extent, the tone might have been a little too light-hearted for the danger they were in, though I certainly did appreciate those humourous moments. I also wonder why nobody came up with the idea of just cutting their way into the holodeck once they thought to contact the outside. From within I’m sure the computer would have prevented it, but a couple of phasers-cum-blowtorchs on the exterior wall and you should be able to get people out.
The interest and levity of this part of the book was welcome, because, boy was there nothing remotely approaching that in the wedding portion. Even setting aside, for the moment, my usual objection to the presence of human religion in the 24th-century context (and I don’t think there’s any way to weasel around its presence in this case; can’t even argue that the ritualistic elements are cultural leftovers since the need or lack thereof for their presence is argued on the basis of scripture), there is nothing attractive in watching a bunch of supposedly mature individuals acting like mewling infants. I could easily sympathize with Gold’s desire to end it all with a phaser, since I was first bored then actively irritated by all these annoyingly petty selfish jealous people and the tantrums they insisted on throwing over ritualistic nonsense. Fortunately, I had an option Gold did not: after such juvenilia degenerated into some kind of pissing contest over lists, I just stopped reading. I was worried that the two storylines might eventually dovetail, but the Hyperion plot resolved on its own, so that was it for me and I moved on to the next story. It’s stories like this, fictional and otherwise, that remind me why I cheer whenever StatsCan or similar groups finds that marriage continues its slow but steady decline; hopefully, by the time the real 24th century comes around, such antiquated institutions will have vanished from our cultural landscape altogether… along with the atavistic religions that spawned them.
Small World by David Mack
This is the best story in the compilation, which shouldn’t be surprising considering it’s from the author of all-time S.C.E. great Wildfire. There are many things that recommend Small World, many of which came as a relief after muddling through the previous entry, not the least being the brisk pacing. Also important is the sense of scale: by which I don’t mean the obvious, startling fact of a planet in a box, but that the story has an epic feel to it, moving an entire world, perfectly complimented by some truly grandiose scenes like the planet emerging before Faulwell, and indeed the entire solar system rearranging itself as the crew watches on; the narrative does a good job conveying the awe of such a sight. The alien species appear only briefly (though I somewhat remember the Koas from Articles), but the brief sketches nonetheless manage to interest one in learning more about these giant, spider-like creatures, or their beauty-oriented pursuers. And of course, one can’t forget the characters: Mack knows his S.C.E. people, and this story marks the return of colourful lower-deck characters like Konya or Vinx in roles that suit them, or even the budding relationship between Abramowitz and Hawkins (which I had completely forgotten about; I don’t think it had been mentioned in this compilation before). The story had a lot of that kind of give and take I felt had been missing from the stories so far; and there’s something about that brainstorming session in the shuttlebay and its multiplicity of voices that just felt so integrally S.C.E. that I felt like applauding. My only issue would be the slipstream thing, which seemed to want for more explanation. How does such a thing form? Was it temporary? DaVinci could have wound up pretty far from home, which doesn't seem like a job for a short-range support ship. That aside, an excellent job all around, one that does, ultimately, leave me looking forward to the next compilation despite the somewhat rocky terrain beforehand. I wonder, for instance, if Gomez and Tev are finally going to have it out soon, particularly given the newest wrinkle in their fraught relationship (Tev misinterpreting Gomez’ aggression for affection). I know we find out more about the Koas, but do we ever hear more of Silgov and their struggle?
Fictitiously yours, Trent Roman
