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309 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2017
I remember his face now so clearly, lined with wrinkles that could be scary until the old man smiled and you saw where they came from.The book is a mix of steampunk and clockwork, robots (called here avtomatons), magic and history/alternate history, fit for a movie. It’s written in a structure of alternate chapters, in two PoVs, two distinct voices, both written in the 1st person: (1) June in Oregon, present days, (2) the avtomaton, in the past (spaning from ~1700 to ~1900, from Russia, to London and beyond). It alternates between history scenes, with facts and hints from the WWs, and action packed scenes, some very alike the Terminator movies.
Pulling the trigger again, I advance. Buckshot dances off the pavement and both men dive away, still fighting each other, ignoring me and the hail of lead pellets ripping through the air. Hardly seeing beyond the exploding muzzle in front of me, I keep pulling the trigger until the gun clicks. My shoulder throbbing, I blink into the dazzling headlights, in disbelief that the two figures are still grappling. As my eyes adjust, I begin to back away, my fingers wrapped tightly around the empty shotgun. Something is wrong, really wrong.The best developed characters – and, hence, the most interesting - are the avtomatons, while the human counterpart, namely June, is somehow overlooked, not much is known about her, so I practically related better with a 'robot' instead of a human..
The impulse to obey my leader pulls at my joints with the certainty of gravity. Drawing my arm back, I let the sword tip rise. But to injure the tsar would bring dishonor. The Word blazes in my mind: pravda. Truth. Justice. Honor. “Do it!” shouts the tsar. My vision is blurring. The saber point wavers. I am compelled to obey and to disobey at the same time. The dissonance of it rings in my ears. I cannot refuse and I cannot strike. I am drowning, my mind swallowing itself. It is the only pain I have ever felt—the agony of breaking my Word.Unfortunately, there are not too many details about how they work or what exactly powers them and how can they ‘recharge’ (yes, we’re told about the anima, it seems to involve some magic, but that’s about all we know; would have liked to see this part developed more); how do you know how to match the body and the anima; what happens if the body is severely damaged; also, who made them remains unknown..
[when talking in school about angels]: I remember the teacher’s face tightening as I began to sketch out my ideas of how flight dynamics might work for a human-size creature with wings. Hollow bones and increased muscle mass, you could take that for granted. But how much would an angel have to eat, to power a body capable of launching itself into the sky? Would they really be able to walk, weighted down by those beautiful, draped gossamer wings? What material could halos be made of? […]
Mouth pinched, the Sunday school teacher waved at me to stop talking. Folding her Bible on her lap, she told me my answer. Because the Bible says so, June. Because. It never satisfied me.