When the Krakau came to Earth, humanity's dream of first contact finally came true. Unfortunately, a mutant virus had turned the populace into cannibalistic,
nearly-indestructible zombies before then. But the Krakau managed to find a cure of sorts; though the restored humans aren't quite what they used to be,
intellectually or otherwise, they can at least think and learn and are far less likely to snack on superior officers. Under the protection of the Krakau-led
Alliance, they form the Earth Mercenary Corps, becoming galactic shock troops protecting the peace of countless worlds and species. Even among mercenaries,
though, not every job requires a gun...
Lieutenant Marion "Mops" Adamopoulos leads a crew of janitors as head of Shipboard Hygiene and Sanitation aboard the EMCS Pufferfish. It's a dirty job,
but life's a dirty business, and a pipe leak or blocked sewage line in the wrong place can mess up a spaceship just as easily as an enemy weapon. She never
actually thought she'd have to fight for her life, let alone take command. But when an attack by hostile Prodryans takes out the Krakau commanders and reverts
the rest of the human crew to their zombie native state, only her team - sealed in personal air hoods for a clean-up job - is spared. Now four human janitors
and one low-ranking Glacidae technician may be the only ones standing between the Alliance and a devastating new bioweapon that could forever alter the galactic
balance of power.
Review
With faint echoes of the classic Britcom Red Dwarf (where a Liverpudlian loser becomes the last human alive aboard a derelict mining vessel three
million years in the future) and Quark (a short-lived Mel Brooks comedy about a spacegoing garbage scow), Terminal Alliance takes a cast of
misfit characters and turns them into improbable heroes. The crew can be irritatingly bumbling at times as they struggle to figure out how to even use their
ship ("helped" by the annoying computer assistant program Puffy, in a joke for those of us who endured Clippy's antics in older versions of Word.) These antics
can get old, persisting long past the point had been made about how woefully unprepared (and undertrained) they are even as it tends to reduce character depth
to cartoonish shallowness at times, but they manage to come together and figure things out, and the tale moves well enough despite the sidetracks into goofiness.
Beneath the light exterior, the plot has some depth and heft to it: from their initial goal of mere survival against feral crewmates, Marion and the others find
themselves forced to question the very nature of the Krakau Alliance and the zombie plague itself (some aspects of which were easy to guess early on, but others
being decently clever twists, especially in a genre that still tends to somewhat monolithic alien races.) While it sometimes was a little silly for my tastes,
Terminal Alliance turns out to be an enjoyable, action-filled diversion, a nice change of pace in a genre that can take itself too seriously.
Scrawny, selfish, craven, and primitive, tunnel-dwelling goblins are such an insignificant race that not even one of the myriad gods of the realm bothers watching
over them. They are picked on and preyed upon by their nastier hobgoblin cousins and by countless parties of treasure-seeking adventurers from the surface world. Any
goblin who lives long enough to take a few humans down with them is considered a hero, but of course all heroes get killed just as dead as their less-brave kin, so
what good is heroism in the end?
Nearsighted Jig is clever for a goblin, but even among his own people he's considered a cowardly runt. His only friend is his pet fire-spider, Smudge, who ignites when
panicked. When he gets bullied into guard duty, it's just his bad luck that he gets captured by a team of adventurers. The arrogant human prince Barius, his wizard
brother Ryslind, their dwarf companion Darnak, and the young elfin thief Riana seek the Rod of Creation. A legendary artifact of unimaginable power, a great wizard
created it long ago and hid it in the deepest and most dangerous of tunnels... beyond the lake of poisonous lizard-fish, just past the requisite Necromancer, and in
the talons of a foul-tempered dragon, naturally. They force Jig to act as their guide, though he has even less of an idea of where to find the Rod than any of the
bickering questors - not that they bother listening to him, of course, as it would be beneath them to listen to a lowly goblin. It isn't long before Jig's bad luck
lands them all in trouble... though the biggest threat of all may turn out to be within their own party. Jig may never have wanted to be a brave adventurer, but it
looks like he has no choice - at least, not if he wants to survive long enough to go back to his old life as a cowardly runt.
Review
Humorous fantasy books walk an even finer line than straight-up fantasies, for much the same reason that humorous movies walk a finer line than serious ones: you
can't laugh at an unfunny joke. A bad serious story, you can roll your eyes at and mock, but a bad funny one deprives you of even that luxury - it just lies there,
dead, on the screen or on the page. Thus, it was with some hesitation that I picked up Goblin Quest... but I thought I could use a change of pace, and it was
on sale. (And a relative bought it, which always helps.) I was very pleasantly surprised. Goblins, often little more than a mild annoyance to adventurers or an easy
level-up opportunity to gamers, get their due with Jig, the unlikely hero who nevertheless decides that traditional heroism is highly overrated, not to mention more
than a little suicidal and occasionally outright stupid. He grows during his adventure in interesting ways, learning to see the weaknesses of goblinkind but never
wholeheartedly embracing the supposed superiority of other races. The questors turn out to be more than cardboard cutout RPG-class characters, each in their own way
at least as selfish as goblins in their willingness to sacrifice everything for their own personal gain. The humor isn't heavy-handed slapstick or low-brow body part
jokes, playing off the cliches of the genre while still presenting a nice, unpredictable adventure. The ending wraps things up in a way I didn't expect, yet which
felt eminently satisfying. I enjoyed reading this one much more than I'd expected; hopefully, I can track down the next book.
Goblin. Hero. The two words are almost never found in the same sentence (unless the sentence is "Look how easily the hero killed that goblin!"), let alone in the
description of one person. Jig Dragonslayer, however, is no ordinary goblin. Abducted by a band of adventurers on a quest to the very heart of the mountain and the
deepest of tunnels, he alone returned to tell the tale. He even picked up a new friend along the way, the forgotten god Tymalous Shadowstar. But while heroism may be
a virtue in many races, among goblins it's a virtual death sentence. They won't hesitate to stab their best friend in the back if they think they can get away with
it. Never mind that Jig insists he's not really the brave hero everyone thinks he is; the more popular a goblin is, the more potential assassins there are, and there
isn't a goblin, hobgoblin, or ogre in the tunnels who hasn't heard the name of Jig Dragonslayer.
One day, an ogre comes to the goblin lair - not to wreak havoc and snack on goblin-kebabs, but to seek the hero of the mountain to help him and his people. Since the
death of the Necromancer and the mighty dragon Straum, something sinister has been afoot in the tunnels, something that has even the massive ogres running in fear for
their lives. The current chief Kralk sets the resident reluctant hero up for almost-certain death by insisting he accept the challenge. To further seal his fate, Kralk
sends along two less-than-useless companions: Grell, the bent old nursery hag who would do anything to never have to clean a diaper again, and Braf, a musclebound
brute who once managed to lodge his own fang in his nostril. As if that weren't bad enough, Jig is followed into the depths by Veka, the only goblin who actually envies
Jig his heroic adventures. She once found a wizard's spellbook and a book, The Path of the Hero, and after obsessively reading both is convinced that she is
destined for Greatness herself. After all, if someone as useless as Jig can become a hero, anyone can.
Review
Another fun outing starring the cowardly hero Jig, I enjoyed it nearly as much as I enjoyed the first book. The goblins come across as both pathetic in their
self-defeating, short-sighted habits and oddly admirable in their tenacity and the lengths to which they'll go to get what they want - even if what they want is merely
to survive for a few more minutes. Jig continues to grow, and while he never embraces the role destiny (and his sometimes-tricky god, who may well have been forgotten
for a good reason by the rest of the world's races) has set for him, he nonetheless figures out that hiding away from problems in time-honored goblin fashion may well
doom his people and the other races of the tunnels to extinction. I found Veka annoying for much of the story, though she, too, finds that she has much more to learn
about true heroism than her little book can possibly tell her. Once again, Hines pulls off a satisfying ending with a somewhat unexpected conclusion. As implied by the
final pages here, there is a third book out; I expect I'll read it as soon as time and budget allow.
Necromancer, dragon, pixie invasion, and a brief stint as the chief of the goblin lair... the cowardly, nearsighted goblin Jig has been through a rough few years.
Somehow, he's managed to survive, and even earn some respect from his fellow goblins - who still, naturally, would stab him in the back to swipe his boots, though at
least they haven't tried killing him for a while. He's starting to think he just might live to a relatively old age, despite the burden of being a hero.
When humans raid the goblin lair in search of the powerful Rod of Creation, Jig's future suddenly looks a little less certain. Taken as a captive by the princess
Genevieve, he and several of his fellow goblins find themselves far, far away from their mountain tunnels and deep into human lands. Not only do the humans tend to
want to murder his species on sight, but word has spread of an army of monsters on the march, making for the very city where Jig has been taken. He wants nothing to
do with armies or wars or anything but escaping, but his god, the forgotten Tymalous Shadowstar, insists that Jig stay in the center of action. For the coming battle
may be about more than a clash of mortal forces. It may mean the difference between survival and extermination - for goblins, humans, monsters, and even the gods
themselves.
Review
I actually came close to shaving a half-star off the rating. While Jig's adventures continue to be fun and unpredictable, his chief sidekicks - the warrior Trok
and the blindly devotional Relka - feel like lightly redressed versions of his co-stars from the previous book. Unlike Veka, her Book 2 counterpart, however, Relka never
does clue in, grow up, and bring more to the story than being an annoying, sometimes interfering follower. Most everyone else shows the extra dimensions I've come to
expect from Hines. I especially enjoyed how Tymalous Shadowstar came to the forefront as more than a voice in Jig's head; in some ways, this book is more about him than
about Jig. Overall, the story reads like a finale, though a few loose threads from this book and previous ones could form the core of future stories. A good, fast-moving
yarn, despite a few bumps and blemishes, that makes for a satisfying conclusion to Jig's harrowing, heroic adventures.
Isaac Vainio loves books... perhaps too much for his own good. As a libriomancer, he can reach into stories and pull out any item that can fit through the pages,
from ray guns to magic swords to his pet fire-spider, Smudge. He used to be a field operative with the Porters, a secret society founded by Johannes Gutenberg himself
(still alive thanks to a conjured Holy Grail), helping protect the world from supernatural beings and less ethical magic workers, until a botched assignment led him
to lose control. Pulled from active duty, he now lives in a quiet Michigan town as a librarian, cataloging new books for the Porter databases and trying to forget the
power and temptation of his now-forbidden gifts.
When he's attacked at work by vampires, Isaac is forced back into libriomancy - first to save his life, then to save the world. Someone's been inflaming tensions between
supernatural beings and the Porters, unleashing powers neither side has seen before. With the help of the dryad Lena and the ever-faithful (if often-incendiary) Smudge,
Isaac sets out to find the culprit... and finds himself up against an enemy so powerful that even Gutenberg himself is helpless against it.
Review
This is a case of a great concept with a good story. Libriomancy would be a dream come true for anyone (like me) who has ever loved a story to life in their minds. It
comes with limitations and costs - living beings often go mad if extracted into the real world, and libriomancers risk insanity and other complications if they overuse
their gifts - to keep it in check, but it's still one of the coolest ideas I've read in a while. The dark side of this power is seen in the proliferation of vampires,
werewolves, and other popular fictional beasts; untrained libriomancers can infect themselves by reaching into a book and being bitten, and as authors create stronger
and more resilient monsters, without the traditional weaknesses, the Porters' job of keeping them concealed becomes all the more difficult. A magic system like this raises
all sorts of questions, questions which Isaac himself often longs to answer, but it feels solid enough to support a story... even a story as frenetic and occasionally
confusing as this one. It moves fast, occasionally too fast, throwing plenty of names and lots of action at the reader in a near-constant volley. There's relatively little
down time to absorb it all. It builds to a great climax, then ends on an iffy note, as it's the first book of a series of unknown length. A good story on its own, the extra
half-mark comes entirely from my adoration of the concept of libriomancy. Overall, it's a fun, often witty romp of a tale. (I also enjoyed revisiting Smudge, from Hines's
Jig the Goblin series.)
