Linesman – Llamafodder

This is the sequel to Linesman, picking up shortly after its conclusion. We return to characters that we enjoy–the story is half told from Ean’s POV–but we also meet Selma Kari Wang, who holds up the other half of the book. She’s from Nova Tahiti, a world that left the Gate Union to become a member of the new Alliance.

As the title promises, there’s a lot of more subtle maneuvering and clandestine action, plus politics. Ean’s at a higher level now, so politics is a greater part of his day–though he still has the freedom (and eccentricity) to carve out his own priorities. Similarly, Kari is valuable both for her witness at the start of the novel, but even more for the political maneuvering that surrounds her after she loses her ship.

Despite the slower topics, the book races along. Ean’s still mostly plagued by personal relationships–Rigel returns, kidnappers want to grab him, and he has foreign ships to sing to. Kari faces a daunting first half of the book, recovering from the loss of her legs and ship; her passive resistance and despondency ring true and are well portrayed–she remains a sympathetic POV, not one that you avoid. You don’t begin her chapters with a groan.

While the focus is strongly on the politics, there’s enough investigation into the world–the strangeness of the lines, a potential source of Redmond’s strength, and more. I’m looking forward to the next novel, even though I suspect it’ll be a while.

A solid and intriguing book; fast paced and far more mystical than I was expecting a book at space engineers to be. The book does a good job of getting us to root for our strange duck engineer, Ean Lambert.

The story begins as a solid everyman hero, Ean, is overworked and backlogged. Ean’s contract is transferred, and in his new role he’s a fish out of water. It’s a tense situation. His new employer is charismatic, which we see reflected both in Ean’s actions (his quick comfort in her presence despite good reason to be mistrustful, and everyone else who comes in contact with her.

Soon Ean’s bumbling through the things a traditional action hero or military type would breeze through. His background becomes more important, worked subtly into the story, explaining why he’s so out of step with his peers. After action, he’s wrung out but usually called on to fix things–it’s never quiet afterward.

As the story goes on, the other characters begin to look to Ean for unusual approaches, and his singing the lines begins to become the multi-tool that makes him incredibly dangerous–and incredibly valuable in his own right.

I liked Ean’s story quite a bit. A second POV was provided: Jordan Rossi, a traditional linesman, but advanced to high up the hierarchy. There are bits of Jordan that we despise, some that we admire, but he’s the stolid fighter to Ean’s flashy bard. He gets things done (in the story, with political influence and his own skill), and gives us a viewpoint character who isn’t Ean to really see how disruptive Ean’s advancements are. He proves secondary in “grabbyness” and interest throughout, but it’s a valuable perspective.

I’m interested in Book 2, Alliance, which just came out. Well done!