Divergence

by Tony Ballantyne

Bantam, 389 pp, $6.99

Divergence is the final volume in a trilogy that began with Recursion (2004) and continued with Capacity (2005), but according to an interview with Eric Brown, the story arc began with his short story, “The Sixth VNM” (1998). For readers familiar with the first two volumes, this one will satisfactorily bring the series to a close, although there is, of course, leeway for him to continue exploring this universe.

For first time readers, enough background material is provided in the Prologue for them to jump into this the deep end of trilogy, but they will probably be left to scratch their heads over some scenes in which characters from earlier books make brief, significant appearances. However, there is certainly enough here to entertain, beguile, and provoke to thought the casual reader who finds the book on a shelf. Before a resolution can be achieved or even appreciated, there has to be a well-developed conflict, and the worse the conflict, the more satisfying the resolution – if any. Divergence starts off with a small group of space faring entrepreneurs whose interpersonal dynamics are so dysfunctional that I wanted to sic a time-traveling version of Isaac Asimov’s wife Janet on them so she could write another volume of Pshrinks, Anonymous about their therapy sessions. Their snipe fests are hilarious if you can preserve a cool sense of detachment, excruciating if you feel for them. The situation is so bad that, when they use Fair Exchange software to bargain for much needed system repairs for their vessel, the Eva Rye, the first repair is to split the group into two independent groups, each equipped with its own ship. Isn’t systems-theory-directed nanotechnology wonderful? The storyline proceeds to follow the smaller of the two groups: Edward, Maurice, Saskia, and Miss Rose, and the all-important passenger they pick up in a subsequent Fair Exchange.

This passenger, Judy, has unfinished business with two warring AI entities, The Watcher and Chris. A fourth major player is the Fair Exchange software program itself, and then there is the treacherous entity Kevin. Judy has it in for the AI Chris, who murdered her twelve sibling-clones, “just to get her attention,” but she is also wary of the Watcher, the seemingly benign AI that regulates human affairs on Earth and everywhere else it can. The Watcher is in favor of peace, health, understanding, and the greater good, and promotes all of these insidiously; and it doesn’t like rival AIs. It is a jealous Watcher. It also likes to separate the sheep from the goats – humans who are unhealthy, unlovely, or eccentric tend to get shipped off to enclaves. Chris seems to like all the C words: chaos, confusion, competition, cooperation, compensation, even cannibalization (of machines). Chris is also a creation of The Watcher – a son, as it were.

If you haven’t picked up on the theistic and biblical allusions yet, I’ll simply point out that Watcher is a rather good translation of the Greek word for god, qeos.

Then there are the Dark Seeds, and the Dark Plants that grow from them, the enemy of all sentient existence: fractal-like, endlessly fascinating, mesmerizing, and deadly.

Judy (Judas?) is being set up for a confrontation between The Watcher and Chris every step of her way, and she knows it. She doesn’t like being manipulated, but each choice is forced. Furthermore, she is haunted by nightmares and waking trances in which she relives parts of the life of the original Eva Rye, who had her own issues with The Watcher.

Judy is steered to Earth for a cataclysmic showdown, and for the answers to her questions. There is a haunting scene of evacuation and sacrifice, and a literally earth-rending finale.

I have only three minor objections to a book I otherwise thoroughly enjoyed. We lose sight of some characters early or abruptly, and I would have liked to know more about their adventures. But perhaps they will get stories of their own someday. Secondly, the arrogance of British colonialism is in evidence in several passages –apparently humanity has become a monoculture in which almost everyone speaks English and follows the Church of England. Mind you, I am quite fond of the English language, and I attend High Episcopalian church services, but monoculture strikes me as dangerous for humans as it is for crops, be it never so convenient for communications and AIs. Finally, I am neither engineer nor physicist, but I am doubtful that some of the mechanical wonders described are physically possible. I love the imagery – and magery – evoked, but it may be matter for future Phooey Physics panels. – Chris Paige