“So one of them is lying.”
“Just one? To quote a great detective, ‘Everyone has a secret, and everyone lies.”
Traveling incognito isn’t easy when you’re a famous inventor (also victim of an infamous accident), and your brand-new husband is a famous detective (retired). It’s taken a lot of money and pull, but Tesla and Shal – along with Tesla’s service dog Gimlet, who is perfect in every way – have scored a deluxe cabin on a cruise ship under assumed names, so they can live like normal people for a little while and enjoy their honeymoon in peace.
Then a fellow passenger is stabbed, Shal is arrested for murder, and Tesla has to solve the crime while being quite a few million miles away from a good lawyer.
Mary Robinette Kowal’s “Lady Astronaut” books were set in a dark 1950’s alternate history where space travel was still all about mass and conservation of energy and having to learn how to shower and pee in free-fall. So it’s a fun change of pace to have her latest Hugo-nominated novel be set in a glittering future, with Lunar and Martian colonies and space travel with all the amenities that money can buy. That includes the ISS Lindgren, which Kowal describes in her afterward as “…a bonkers ship that no one would actually build. Except a cruise line.”
“Good morning, passengers! Who wants to get fit, fit, FIT?! Head to the Martian pool for an afternoon of water exercises with our fitness trainer, Mpenzi Okeke! He was on the Gold medal aqua polo team at the Calisto Aquatics Championships, but he promises to be gentle!”
The Lindgren has it all: three separate levels, each spun for Terran, Mars, or Lunar gravity. There are shops and restaurants, pools and night clubs, art galleries and several different kinds of exercise rooms (please remember to tip your trainer), holographic projections of sunsets or starscapes on the ceiling and “windows”, and artfully winding hallways that make it a little less obvious that the passengers are walking on the inside of a giant canister. It’s a ship for people who appreciate the finer things in life, like Tesla and Shal, who have expensive tastes in things like clothes (the very best clothing doesn’t have self-cleaning fibers, they have to be hand cleaned), technology (like a Heads Up Display that lets people chat privately) and most importantly: fine liquor.
Y’all, there is a lot of drinking in this book. Every chapter header is the full recipe for a different cocktail, each of which subtly echo what’s going on in the chapter. Several of the drinks are creations by the author, some are zero-proof, most are not. Shal and Tesla take their cocktails very seriously. It’s always a good time to have a well-mixed alcoholic beverage. The possibility of Shal being framed for murder is worrying, but someone messing with their private stock of impossible-to-find liquors is an insult. The whole thing is one of the better pastiches I’ve seen of famous detective Nick and wealthy socialite Nora. (Have you seen “The Thin Man” yet? You really should, it’s a 1930’s pre-Code gem and it absolutely does not disappoint.)
Tesla and Shal’s relationship is a little more lovey-dovey than the peppery back-and-forth between Nick and Nora. Their marriage is exactly one week old, and they’re still in the stage where they’re constantly canoodling, exchanging declarations of love in their HUD communications, and basically being completely supportive of each other.
And that’s a good thing, because Tesla needs a lot of support.
The incident years ago that destroyed an entire orbital lab left Tesla with a spine knitted together with metal pins and a lot of chronic pain. She has a Deep Brain Pain Suppressor installed, but seeing everything from Tesla’s point of view is an excellent illustration of the constant adjustments people with chronic pain have to make. Can I turn up the power now, or do I need to keep it low to make sure I don’t injure myself by accident? Can I afford to have enough sensitivity to do things like actually feel it when my husband holds my hand, or should I turn the pain all the way down so I can chase after a possible witness? And there’s the constant background noise of knowing that some people think you don’t really need to be treated carefully, because you’ve managed your pain so well that it becomes an invisible illness.
Almost more debilitating that Tesla’s physical injuries is her PTSD. The phrase “know your triggers” is incredibly important here. Tesla is on it. She knows what her triggers are, she has plans in place to avoid them in addition to coping methods to tamp down her responses. And it shows just how difficult it can be to deal with a panic attack when you do everything right and it knocks you to the floor anyway.
If there’s one thing that helps more than constant vigilance, it’s Tesla’s dog Gimlet, who in many ways is the real star of the book. No mere Comfort Animal, Gimlet is a prime example of just how much a well-trained service animal can really help their human with things like PTSD. Gimlet can recognize Tesla’s moods and how her surroundings can affect them, knows to give a reassuring boop if she thinks Tesla’s getting overwhelmed, or carefully put her front paws on Tesla’s leg and push if she recognizes a situation that means they need to leave. Gimlet’s also as adorable as she is smart (do a search for West Highland White Terrier; so cute). Although her service vest says she shouldn’t be pet, as the murder investigation picks up speed and the bodies start to pile up, Tesla is okay to have Gimlet charm and frolic any obstacles out of the way. (Although seriously, guys, don’t pet the service dog.)
The technology Kowal features in this futuristic society is woven into every element of the ongoing murder mystery. The ability of reporters (and ship security) to identify passengers is in a constant arms race against the ability of wealthy people to hide those identities, either under assumed names or “spoofers” (portable devices that keep security cameras from working properly). Being in a spaceship that’s being spun for gravity can cause all sorts of interesting effects when something is dropped. Or thrown. And having a high-priced attorney on speed-dial doesn’t help as much when security is blocking all electronic communications, or when you’re so far out from the Moon that there’s a delay, which means your lawyer is responding in fury to something that was said five minutes ago.
(Tesla’s lawyer Fantine is my second favorite character after Gimlet. She’s utterly fearless, filled with rage, and throws out the most impressive threats over video chat while she aggressively crochets. Or leaves a series of increasingly enraged video messages that Tesla plays back as she’s mixing a martini. The worsening time lag also means her reactions are further and further delayed from what she’s reacting to, so you have fun scenes like Fantine shouting at Tesla to not do the thing about fifteen minutes after it’s already done.)
“So listen, Fantine, you’re authorized to draw on my accounts as necessary to handle whatever damages I’m incurring.”
Her lawyer didn’t hear her and kept talking. “…is like watching a horror film. Don’t go through the door. DON’T GO THROUGH THE -“
About the murder mystery itself, I’ll just say that the quote I used to open this review is extremely appropriate. Everyone has a hidden agenda, everyone reacts in ways that probably aren’t helpful a lot of the time. (Especially Shal and Tesla. Shal, you’re supposed to be retired, will you two please stop investigating…oh hell, there they go.) And even in a future where people are generally more accepting of their fellow human beings than we are now, there are still plenty of people who are spiteful, selfish, judgey, and devious in ways that make it incredibly satisfying when they’re finally found out.