2012 young adult science fiction. Jarra is Handicapped; something in
her immune system revolts at alien worlds, so she's limited to living
on Earth with the other people who can't go to the stars and be part
of proper civilisation. What's worse, all the offworlders look down on
"apes". But that's not going to stop her doing her best to have a good
life.
Space colonisation for population reduction is a common topic of
discussion in SF circles, and it tends to founder on the numbers.
Right now, total population is increasing by around 75 million per
year. If you take a Boeing 777 and cram in as many seats as it'll
take, you can shift about 550 people on it; the current largest ocean
liner, the Queen Mary 2, can take 2,260 passengers. So you'd need
over 350 planes, or 78 QM2s, every day, packed full, just to stay
even. And spacecraft are rather more expensive to run than planes or
ocean liners.
I mention this because if you want to depopulate the Earth you really
do need something like the portal technology that's the key to
interstellar travel here: go to point A, set your destination, walk
through, arrive at point B. Some of this is well thought through: with
portals clearly the best option, vehicles are largely a forgotten
technology except for special purposes, and when portals are disrupted
by solar flares the easiest approach is just to hunker down for a few
hours and wait it out. On the other hand, it seems odd that the colony
worlds should have organised themselves into sectors: sure, they were
settled at different times, but surely it would cost about the same to
visit another world in your sector as to visit another world somewhere
else entirely? And why are there portal interchange points, where you
walk out of one portal and into another to get somewhere further away,
when it would be possible to route the signal directly to the
destination? (As is done with communications.)
But this is background; Earth Girl is very much a personal story,
and Edwards does a decent job of giving the reader the necessary
background while not infodumping too blatantly. The slang is a bit
heavy-handed, full of nardles and zans, but we also find that "butt"
and "nuke" are now forbidden words, the former being replaced by
"legs". (In fact something seems to have completely rewritten
attitudes to adolescent sexuality: one first has to register a
contract for a set period, and nobody here even seems to think about
trying to have unofficial sex.)
This is a YA book, and falls into some of the traps common to that
genre: for example, everyone from Alpha sector is terribly concerned
about preserving Earth's cultural history, everyone from Beta is
obsessed with sex, Gammans have an inflexible moral code, Deltans are
all brainy, and Epsilons are still building everything. This is
deliberately subverted later, but it's still a surprisingly reliable
basis for evaluating people. Being Handicapped is an obvious parallel
to being disabled in some way that allows for a restricted but still
effective life, along with societal attitudes. On the other hand,
other YA traps are avoided: this isn't a dystopia like The Hunger
Games and its imitators, it's not a bad place to live at all, even
for the Handicapped (though they pretty much have to go into medicine
or archaeology, those being the only things that happen on Earth any
more). There's no handy romantic triangle or dark brooding hero. And
while Jarra is quick to jump to conclusions about her fellow students,
she's wrong, and comes to admit it for herself rather than having
someone else give her a cheap moral lesson.
Because what Jarra does is to sneak round the system: she applies to
join an archaeology course, not at University Earth as everyone
assumes, but at an off-world university that happens to be studying on
Earth (as all such courses have to for their first year). She'll show
those exos (descendants of the Exodus) that apes can be just as smart
and brave and clever as them, then reveal her true nature, and then
they'll be sorry. Of course, it doesn't quite work out like that.
The bulk of the book happens on that archaeology course: abandoned
cities, such as New York, are being mined for interesting artefacts,
often in stasis boxes which people stored before they left but which
are now starting to run out of power. Because it was a while before
anyone thought this stuff was worth preserving, the buildings are
often in bad shape. Most of the heavy work is done with "lift beams",
but nobody seems to have drones any more: one person in a protective
suit floats into the target area on a hover belt, while another keeps
a lift beam locked on them and hauls them out quickly if necessary.
Obviously this is a cue for lots of thoughts about trust and
reliability.
Jarra finds out more about the parents who abandoned her, suffers a
very well-described mental breakdown caused by stress, and gets
herself out of it before anyone seriously notices. She's also really
good at this sort of archaeology; sure, she's been doing it since she
was 11, but sometimes she seems just too competent, being better
than people who've spent their entire careers at it rather than less
than a decade.
The pace is quite slow, and the writing occasionally feels a little
pedestrian, but as with other authors I like there's enough
interesting stuff going on in the background that I don't need every
sentence to be about developing Our Heroine and Her Problems.
Recommended by Colin Fine. Followed
by Earth Star.
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