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247 pages, Paperback
First published August 12, 2015
99% of my time working with NASA is spent bitching that I know more than they do. The other 1% of my time is spent trembling, pissing myself, realizing I might actually be right. Now is one of those latter times. Houston should know everything wrong with my beacon, especially the fact that it is no longer doing the beacon-like things beacons are built for.
Instead, I've got someone sipping tepid coffee down in the land of women and pizza checking his readouts and telling me there's nothing amiss. When I goddamn know something is amiss.
Fucking NASA. In a horror movie, when everyone is hugging their shins and shouting for the main character to turn and run, or crawl under the bed, or call the cops, or grab a gun, NASA would be the dude in the back shouting, “Go see what made that noise! And take a flashlight!
In deep space, no one can hear you sob.
Every morning is an afterlife. Every evening, I die anew in the trenches amid nightmares of artillery finding their target. To wake each morning is a surprise. To rise a miracle. To breath another breath some gift foisted upon me and beyond my control."The narrator (whose name we never learn) of this fine collection of short stories is seriously damaged. A decorated war hero from a seemingly endless intergalactic conflict, he has been reassigned to be the sole custodian of one of the many beacons that allow for faster than light travel. But this isn't a story about war, instead it is a story about what war does to a person, even one lauded as a hero.
This is the thing about being a hero: It's all about when you get your picture taken. I'll be a hero for the rest of my life, I suppose. So long as I spend it in here with the door shut, hugging my knees, and staying away from any more cameras.This is a very introspective story, which makes sense since most of the time he is alone in his beacon contemplating life, his past, and the nature of the universe. It is clear from his line of thinking and observations that he holds a very cynical outlook on life based on his experiences.
But it's more than the deaths I saw; it's the destruction. The noise with which we go seems to make it count for more. I think my buddies who checked out via hand grenade versus those who dies from MRSA back in the VA. We barely notice the latter. They're statistics. Go quietly, and you're a number. Go in spectacular fashion, and you're a name.Thankfully this book isn't all doom and gloom. In a way he is a bit like Mark Watney from The Martian, trying to keep things light because occasionally you need to laugh to keep from crying:
A bit of a derail here to say what a huge fan I was of Urban Ninja Detroit growing up. All I ever wanted to be was an urban ninja. My parents got me a costume for Halloween when I was seven of eight, and I kept wearing that getup until the split-toe shoes would barely squeeze onto my feet and the pants rode up above my calves. Because of me, everything in my neighborhood was peppered with holes from throwing stars and blowdarts. Hell, I probably joined the military instead of going to college because of the overdeveloped sense of honor that damn show gave me. I'll also say here that I like to pretend Urban Ninja L.A. never existed. Urban Ninja Chicago wasn't so bad. But I digress.Howey does a masterful job slowly revealing the narrator's wounds to the reader, slowly drawing the reader into the story and the mind of the narrator. The stories are small and self contained but nicely expand on the character and backstory of the Narrator as well as the universe he resides in. they slowly build up to the climax of the final story which calls on the Narrator to make a monumental, galaxy changing decision. The story, at its core, is about the virtue of pacifism in the tradition of . War is something to avoid or survive. There is no glory there, only death, destruction, and the scars that don't always outwardly show themselves. We see the damage war does through the eyes and memories of the Narrator. I was drawn in from the very first and loved every page of this book. It was a welcomed addition to the cannon of contemplative science fiction.