I’m not generally one to say “don’t read the summary,” but for the sake of your sanity Don’t Read The Summary. I already knew I liked Cherryh and the Alliance/Union books, and the book jacket still sent my eyebrows to my hairline.
Some years after Heavy Time, Ben Pollard has finally got his life together. He’s signed up with the UTC, put in the time, finagled connections, passed all the tests and is on track for a high security clearance position in Stockholm. That’s right, this Belter is going places.
Obviously, this isn’t going to last. At the last second, Pollard finds out that he’s been named next-of-kin to Paul Decker, and is being transferred to a secret installation elsewhere to see if he can help pull the man together. (Yes, that Paul Decker. The punching bag of the universe that Ben spent three months trapped in a ship with and the man at the center of the ensuing chaos that completely upended the politics in the Belt. Surprise-surprise, things have gone wrong for him again.)
Ben, of course, has Plans. He doesn’t want to be stuck with Decker. He has a Position waiting for him. He just wants to proceed with his perfectly mapped career in Stockholm. He deserves Stockholm.
Unfortunately, no one cares what Ben wants.
What follows is a tightly-focused story of political maneuvering, conspiracy, sabotage, and stress. Decker’s traumatized self ought not be anywhere near a pilot’s seat, but the establishment doesn’t care. He’s the best they’ve got, so they’re going to do whatever it takes to build a crew and make their super special program work. Superficially, this is the story of how those Rider Ships in Downbelow Station came to be, but it’s mostly about the human drama, and drama there is.
I spent most of Heavy Time wanting to strangle Ben Pollard. He was very good at his job, but he was also a self-serving snake of a man more concerned with profit and advantage than any kind of human sympathy. Somewhere at the end of that book he got a clue and figured out how to use his powers for good (or that might have just been survival instinct, hard to say.) Fast forward to Hellburner, and Ben has suddenly become much more sympathetic. I don’t mean to imply he had a personality transplant or anything (far from it), but the context has shifted. Instead of trying to screw somebody else over for his own advantage, he’s really just trying to stick to The Plan… and it’s just not working out for him.
Another reviewer likened Pollard and Decker’s interactions to Odd Couple comedy; I’d say that’s accurate. There’s a lot of darkly hilarious dialogue in the midst of Decker being totally off his head and Pollard being 100% Done with the entire situation. (Decker himself spends most of this book reenacting the last one. Don’t expect much development from him.)
Ben is not the only one who gets hauled out to work on the project. Meg and Sal, our Space Diva Belt Miners from the last book, are also back. I was pleasantly surprised to see how much attention is given to Meg’s PoV. Being in her mid-40s, with an injury that slowed reflexes on one side, she’s at a disadvantage. Her relationship with the much younger Decker, her past and future work as a pilot, and her political perspective as one of the old Rab give insight that the younger cast members (except perhaps Graff) lack. At the end of the day, Meg Kady is probably one of my favorite characters.
Sadly, Sal’s perspective is virtually nonexistent. She didn’t get much PoV input in Heavy Time either, but with Hellburner giving so much narrative space to Meg, it stands out. While Ben and Meg and Graff all expand as characters, Sal falls to the sidelines. (Decker, of course, is still 90% a narrative object. Things happen to him, and everything spirals from there.)
Some things don’t age well. The weirdest thing is probably the implication that Sal is the only black person on the station, and one of a scant minority in near-Earth space at all, but Meg and Sal both also face rampant and overt sexism in the program, which can be hard to swallow in this future-setting. And as I’ve noted before, the mental health departments are… shall we say unhelpful at best. But most of insystem politics and policies seem a bit backdated, and I remain on the fence as to whether Cherryh is making A Statement™ or if her writing just hasn’t aged well. (Given current politics, I’m inclined to go with the former; some things don’t change but superficially.)
I’ve waffled back and forth on the rating, because I’m a sucker for the human drama that Cherryh specializes in, but I think I’m settling at a hair over 3*. There’s a sense of rehashing Heavy Time throughout Hellburner’s pages, and watching people get ground up and tossed around in a bureaucratic machine is interesting but not always entertaining.