Humans Make a Mess of First Contact in Patrick S. Tomlinson’s Sci-Fi Comedy Gate Crashers
First contact stories generally break one of two ways: either the aliens are benevolent, and humans mess things up; or the aliens are bloodthirsty conquerors and humans…well, we usually still mess things up.
Gate Crashers
Paperback $20.99
Gate Crashers
In Stock Online
Paperback $20.99
Gate Crashers, the newest novel from Patrick S. Tomlinson (author of the Children of a Dead Earth series) suggests something a bit more complicated: human explorers whose actions range from extraordinarily competent to near-buffoonery encounter an alien confederacy that’s been observing us from afar with general indifference, and which hosts vast internal differences about how to deal with our threatening expansionism. Human and alien factions thus jockey to take advantage of the new status quo in this tongue-in-cheek space opera, a blend of hard sci-fi, interspecies power politics, and wonderfully awful puns.
Gate Crashers, the newest novel from Patrick S. Tomlinson (author of the Children of a Dead Earth series) suggests something a bit more complicated: human explorers whose actions range from extraordinarily competent to near-buffoonery encounter an alien confederacy that’s been observing us from afar with general indifference, and which hosts vast internal differences about how to deal with our threatening expansionism. Human and alien factions thus jockey to take advantage of the new status quo in this tongue-in-cheek space opera, a blend of hard sci-fi, interspecies power politics, and wonderfully awful puns.
Captain Allison Ridgeway commands the Magellan (“Maggie”), a civilian exploration ship with a crew in cryogenic sleep. The sentient ship wakes the captain when she discovers they’re due to pass a genuine anomaly: a thing that’s… just sitting there out in space. Objects in space don’t just stop, so what would be an utterly innocuous bit of debris becomes, potentially, the first concrete evidence of alien intelligence. Upon further investigation, the Maggie discovers the hourglass-shaped object has inner workings and is also covered in an alien script, which means Captain Ridgeway and crew have proof that we’re not alone in the universe. And once they’ve figured out what that text says… well, it’s not a cook book, exactly, but there are ominous implications.
As a sleeper ship, Maggie is several centuries out from Earth. Fortunately, humans make use of the clever Quantum Entanglement Radio, an instantaneous communications system involving entangled particles and detectors that operate stealthily from behind dark glasses and a newspaper (ever hear the one about how quantum particles behave differently if they’re observed?). Study of the object reveals not only that humanity is being watched by a group of at least six alien species, but makes possible the reverse-engineering of the advanced technology.
The Ark
Paperback $14.99
The Ark
By
Patrick S. Tomlinson
Illustrator
Lee Gibbons
In Stock Online
Paperback $14.99
While Maggie remains on the scene for hands-on analysis, the governments of Earth debate a response: a friendly hello? A show of force? A bit of both? Humanity quickly elects to construct a well-armed vessel intended to make contact and, as necessary, blow stuff up. The ship is captained by the ultra-butch Maximus Tiberius, a glad-handing Zapp Brannigan-esque egomaniac in every way the opposite of the cool and thoughtful Captain Ridgeway. The two ships join up and converge on the home systems of the alien confederacy, with no idea whether an aggressive posture is the best way forward, especially given our technological deficiencies. Fortunately or not, the aliens likewise can’t agree what to do about us: some are open to a dialogue, but others see us as little more than talented technological mimics. Still others see advantage in making enemies of the new, bumbling kids on the galactic block.
While Maggie remains on the scene for hands-on analysis, the governments of Earth debate a response: a friendly hello? A show of force? A bit of both? Humanity quickly elects to construct a well-armed vessel intended to make contact and, as necessary, blow stuff up. The ship is captained by the ultra-butch Maximus Tiberius, a glad-handing Zapp Brannigan-esque egomaniac in every way the opposite of the cool and thoughtful Captain Ridgeway. The two ships join up and converge on the home systems of the alien confederacy, with no idea whether an aggressive posture is the best way forward, especially given our technological deficiencies. Fortunately or not, the aliens likewise can’t agree what to do about us: some are open to a dialogue, but others see us as little more than talented technological mimics. Still others see advantage in making enemies of the new, bumbling kids on the galactic block.
Tomlinson’s quirky tone and light touch often work entirely to his advantage: after all, what real examples of first contact in human history haven’t involved at least as much comedy as tragedy? There are clever science jokes: the concealed observers of the quantum radio; a ship that’s invisible because even photons get nervous in its presence; an EM pulse cannon in which the “EM” stands for emotional maturity. Mileage on that type of humor will vary, of course, and striving for that next Douglas Adams-level zinger occasionally distracts from the intriguing plot. The jokes are more hit than miss, though, and much of the comedy is mined from the utter inevitability of humans tripping over themselves to be the first to (maybe) be annihilated by aliens. Though slightly on the zany side, the characters are generally well-drawn and believable, with even extreme cases like Captain Tiberius showing flashes of humanity.
Gate Crashers has many strengths—smart hard sci-fi ideas, compelling universe-building, clever science, and plenty of jokes—but mostly, it’s just dang good fun, with a bit of heart. Even when the tone is snarky, it’s never mean-spirited. Frankly, it’s the light-hearted first-contact tale we need right now, enlivened by an engaging cast and plenty of puns.