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Big Brothers Are Watching
Legendary science fiction icon Arthur C. Clarke, who in recent years has cowritten The Trigger with Michael Kube-McDowell and several Rama novels with Gentry Lee (Rama II, Garden of Rama, Rama Revealed) collaborates here for the first time with British author Stephen Baxter (Moonseed, Voyage, Titan, and Manifold Time) on a powerful, near-future speculative story of our world on the brink of radical change. The authors envision what the social consciousness and culture shock of life would be like when all privacy is irrevocably gone. Driven by Clarke's vision and fleshed out by Baxter's easygoing narrative, The Light of Other Days is intriguing conjecture supported by deep-seated principles in a time when total indifference has taken root.
In the early 21st century, industrialist Hiram Patterson isn't content with his multimedia conglomerate called OurWorld and dedicates himself to further innovation. While attending an OurWorld event, journalist Kate Manzoni prepares to break a major story on Hiram's latest invention, which is shrouded in secrecy. Her previous cutting-edge bit of news was the disclosure of the Wormwood, a comet which is set on a collision course with Earth and destined to destroy all life on the planet in 500 years. Drug use, suicide, and apathy are at an all-time high across the globe.
Still, that doesn't stop Hiram from doing what he does making money off scientific breakthroughs. His latest invention, as Kate learns, is a "WormCam": a stabilized wormhole of atomic size that is only large enough to send a radio signal through. His next call of order is to enlarge the wormhole until it is big enough to allow for visual images. Hiram's long-abandoned son, David, a top physics scientist and devout Catholic, is called back to OurWorld in order to oversee the WormCam project.
The debonair Bobby Patterson, Hiram's younger son, is soon wooing Kate even while she uses him to get closer to Hiram's secrets. Bobby learns that the brain implant he had embedded as a child was actually designed to make him lack emotion and religious faith, as well as allow him to be easily coerced by his father. When Kate helps him to shut down the implant, Bobby is opened to a whole new world of exquisite love, anger, and pain. Eventually his brother David enlarges the WormCam until visual imagery is capable of traveling back and forth. David also determines that the WormCam is not only capable of bending space, but also time.
As Kate uses the WormCam in an attempt to take down a notorious religious leader who uses a deadly form of virtual reality on his followers despite its ill effects, she begins to make herself powerful enemies, among them Hiram. Bobby and Kate set out on personal missions intended to keep the wormholes out of the wrong hands and put them to use for mankind's benefit. However, that's easier said than done, as government agencies and corporate competitors learn of the invention and a chain reaction is started -- everyone spying on everyone else across the globe and across time.
Stephen Baxter deserves all the praise he's received in recent years for his thought-provoking and evocative novels. As a winner of the John W. Campbell Award, Baxter again proves he has what it takes to hold his own with such a visionary as Arthur C. Clarke. The authors are at ease fusing their ideas and techniques, moving between the hard-science elements and the credible, emotionally dense circumstances propelling the characters forward. The constant tension between Hiram, Kate, and Bobby is put to wonderful use, as Bobby sees life for the first time with an open soul. Possibly the strongest scene comes when Hiram realizes the WormCams can look backward into time. He turns a challenging gaze to the heavens for all the future watchers staring at him to see.
As the world undergoes extreme change and privacy is done away with, our protagonists are forced to take personal stands for their beliefs despite all the conflict taking place around them. This is made even more difficult for them by the ever-present threat of the Wormwood comet that will eventually decimate all life. The theme is a strong How hard will you strive for your ideals when the world is going to end in the not-so-distant future? How strong is your faith? Clarke and Baxter have given us a moving and believable story, bringing together various scientific threads and philosophical ideology. They not only grab the reader's interest but also fire one's imagination on how technology leads to radical social and political change.
The Light of Other Days doesn't sink under the inertia of the secular debates in the Clarke and Baxter's unraveling of the intense subplots of faith and fear is impeccable. It's rare to find authors so cognizant of cultural transformation, who understand the ethica...
320 pages, Hardcover
First published April 16, 2000








The underlying premise is that wormholes can be stabilized sufficiently that enough information can be transmitted through them to convey pictures of distant events. Society is revolutionized as, thanks to invisible, omnipresent Wormcams, privacy becomes a thing of the past -- and even more so when the next logical step is taken: the opening up of the entirety of earth's past to the Wormcam, which enables a sort of VR time travel. History is rewritten, crime plummets as clearup rates approach 100%, politicians resign or suicide in droves, millions become hi-tech peeping toms . . . There is a sort of soap-opera plot involving the communications entrepreneur behind these technological breakthroughs, his sons and other family members. All this is played out against a backdrop of humankind's fatalistic knowledge that in just a few hundred years a cometary object called the Wormwood (confusingly, bearing in mind the novel's about Wormcams) will smite our planet, sterilizing it to a depth of many miles. As you might expect given the authorship, there's a long visionary chapter at the end during which our evolutionary ancestry is traced back by Wormcam "travelers" all the way back to the first algal cell -- and even beyond.
But this indicates what for me is a problem with the book. Yes, I can buy it that for a lot of people the big initial appeal of the Wormcam might be that you could watch the neighbours screwing, just as the novel indicates; but one of the uses to which you can put the technology is to "visit" distant parts of the universe, including the planets of other stars, and then of course the time-travel aspect of the device allows you to explore anywhere in history that interests you. Surely, after the novelty of Reality Porn had worn off, at least a sizable chunk of the population would be visiting the original Jurassic park or the rings of Saturn, or discovering what it was like to be bathed in the light of Andromedan suns? By the time our heroes are undertaking their journey back to the origin of life on earth, wouldn't millions of other people have already had the idea to take this same excursion? Likewise, there's a public project described earlier in the book to follow the life of Christ; but wouldn't all kinds of people, atheist and Xtian alike even if with differing motives, have thought of this almost immediately after the introduction of the technology? Why would there be the need for a project? (The chapter on this is called "Behold the Man", a perhaps unwise reminder of Mike Moorcock's significantly more ambitious time-travel treatment of the Passion.)
I raced through the first eighty or so pages of The Light of Other Days, finding in it a refreshing energy of ideas -- the kind of lure that used to make pulp sf so entrancing. Then, though, the other aspects of pulp sf began to get to me, in particular the pulpish plot and characterization (the tyrannical entrepreneur is like something out of a Batman comic), and thereafter I found myself labouring, rather. I still did like the gee-whiz ideas, and new ones kept appearing, so it wasn't an unrewarded slog; and I found the novel's resolution satisfying, however predictable it had by then become. Especially good was the introduction of the paranoia-inducing concept that, if anyone in our future ever invents the Wormcam or its equivalent, there's a reasonable chance that one of them is watching you right now -- or even lots of them.
All in all, then, the book's a curate's egg.