There are authors who write science fiction, and then there are masters. There are novels that take you into outer space and introduce you to weird worlds, rare robots, impressive spaceships, intriguing technology, endearing and frightening species, double-crossing humanoids and more. And then there’s Ashfall Legacy.
The protagonist is exactly what a frightened teen faced with a need to do heroic things should be. Smart, likeable, humorous, determined, drawn to danger, conflicted, flawed and entirely capable of saving – or destroying – the world, as needed.
There’s enough tension throughout this novel to ignite solar flares, yet the team of cadets whizzing through wormholes and learning to pilot interstellar “skiffs” is appealingly familiar, right down to their Earth-teen slang. Indeed, the cast of characters takes the concept of interspecies diversity and collaboration lightyears past Chewbacca. There’s a mind-boggling level of detail and planning that went into this intricate tale. As for the writing, let’s let it speak for itself:

I had the dream last night, the one about my dad, but [Mom] didn’t need to know that. Talking about him always put my mom into a funk—half-melancholy and half–bloodthirsty guerrilla fighter without a mission.

Most of the time, life as a half-alien fugitive was really freaking boring.

As soon as the gun went off, a silver mass appeared at chest level in front of Tycius. It looked almost like Tycius had opened a silk umbrella, a rippling octagon of quicksilver floating before him. It soundlessly absorbed the bullet.

I’d been so focused on the wormhole, I hadn’t even noticed the alien ship floating nearby. I whistled. The ISV Eastwood was a hell of a lot bigger than Ty’s crummy skiff. The bulk of the ship was a massive ring, constantly spinning to create artificial gravity. A network of spokes connected the ring to a tubular rocket at its center. The whole thing looked very much like a donut with an arrow through its middle.

The truth was, I liked it out in the Vastness. I could blank my mind and forget all about the pressure on me—the politics and prophecies—and just be one with the cosmos.

Breathing through my apparatus was noisy, so I found myself holding my breath to listen. The only place I’d been that was this quiet was floating out in the Vastness. Aside from our crunching footfalls, there were no other sounds besides the wind whistling through the shattered windows of buildings. No insects buzzing or birds chirping, not even the sound of leaves rustling. This place was completely dead. And so was the first Vulpin we found. We were only two blocks into the city when we saw him. The mercenary was splayed out in the middle of the intersection, like he was doing a snow angel in the ash.

Read at your own risk. It may disturb your nighttime slumber, it will definitely paralyze you until you finish, and if there’s a sequel on its tail, activate your surveillance devices immediately.

- P.W.