It has been four years since Weir's last book (Artemis), and his latest book, Project Hail Mary, was well worth the wait. The novel manages to captivate its reader from page one with a shocking, inexplicable scenario. In a simulated voice, the subject is asked over and over, "What is two plus two?" A response should be simple enough, but in a fugue state, the subject has difficulty responding since he seems to have misplaced his ability to speak, a guileless task complicated by the inability to form words. Frightening is the fact that he knows he can form words (his internal voice communicates to him, his thoughts have a verbal base), but he can not articulate. Finally, after a brief repose, the same voice asks, "What is your name?" His response, not far removed from the original, remains the same. His grip on the moment reveals itself in the form of amnesia; no name, no occupation, no purpose: who am I? Weir pulls us into the moment, banking on the fact that we have all shared moments where we ponder a similar event, the loss of self.
Weir has established a playing field, a jumping point that screams resolve; the only human response is panic. The feeling is one of discomfort, and the reader wants him to find a route that will assure the comfort of the ordinary. The situation is clinical, shrouded in a setting that evokes the atmosphere of a medical theatre; his reaction is anything short of an outburst. A flashback allows us to settle into the simple routine of our unnamed protagonist's life; reading emails, ordering breakfast, pondering Sally's Diner's menu. However, even the mundane jolts him when he receives an email from Irina Petrova, Ph.D. Subject: Thin Red Line, concerning IR (Infrared) bands of light from a nebula she is studying with no variance, they glow; their course is toward Venus (25.984microns). She requests input from her email list. Weir begins to set up an entry point to the story. Flash forward in time, and our John Doe has successfully answered his first question and is allowed to unlock a hatch that leads into a laboratory; he's not as fortunate with the second hatch. He's encouraged to solve a linear problem. A minor accident with three-foot tape measures assures him that it's a question of gravity. Having regained some memory, he does a quick calculation that shows him he is not on Earth. There is a definite correlation between restored memory and self-awareness. An excellent first chapter that sets up an incredible air of wonder and mystery.
In chapter two, the flashbacks continue to drive the plot forward and enhance character development - as well, a compromise concerning our Sun's energy output has been detected, with no explanation of how or why. It seems that the Sun is getting dimmer; the Thin Red Line (Petrova's Line) is bleeding energy from the Sun that in twenty years could lead to an extinction event for humanity. A global issue with apparent consequences for all living things: instant ice age. We learn via flashback and piece-meal memory restoration that our nameless paladin had a past life filled with romance, academic achievements, and his current occupation as a junior high science teacher. It is his occupation as a teacher that is paramount to his character. He loves his job and his students, exemplified by the notion that "what's the point of even having a world if you're not to pass it on to the next generation." His sense of altruism beckons and, Weir adroitly establishes an aura of foreshadowing from this simple sentence. The reader can now prepare themselves for a novel that induces page-turning pleasure. It is revealed in this chapter that his name is Dr. Ryland Grace.
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| Andy Weir https://www.andyweirauthor.com/ |
Ryland's back story is interesting; life assured him a promising career as a molecular biologist until he authors his Ph.D. thesis "An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations for Evolutioary Models." But, then, he emphatically states that not all life needs a water basis; it is on Earth, but conditions elsewhere could be different; requirements could be ultimately under other conditions. Moreover, life is a series of chemical reactions that concludes in copies of self, and water is not essential for that to happen. Above all else, he berates particular eminent scientists in a section of his paper entitled, "The Goldilocks Zone is for Idiots." This ideal blacklists him from the somewhat routine, regimented scientific community. But it's precisely this kind of thinking that invites the attention of Eva Stratt associated with the Petrova Tasks force, an international task force created to deal with the Petrova line problem and find a solution, and who seems to have unlimited power and resources. Stratt offers Ryland a chance to study the "dots" specimen retrieved from the ArcLight, an orbital mission around Venus whose telemetric data suggests possible alien life. A protracted verbal tug of war ensues where Ryland offers Stratt alternatives to his being the chosen investigator, sighting better scientists than himself, and that he has an option. Obviously, he has no choice; twenty minutes after he leaves the company of Stratt, he returns escorted by four burly FBI agents. His "outside the box" approach to life in the Universe has bought him a front-row seat in the race to rescue the human race from inevitable calamity.
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| Yes, this is a bacteriophage, not an Astrophage, but still fun to look at. Image credit: https://scitechdaily.com/ |
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| Tau Ceti Image Credit: https://www.fromspacewithlove.com/tau-ceti/ |
Through the austere Draconian, almost dictatorial method of Stratt's Machiavellian business ambiance, she manages a construct of international scientists and world leaders' cooperation: few questions asked. The operative is not diplomacy when facing a 6th level extinction event; plenty of time to "play nice' later. The order of the day is to build a vehicle that will endure the harshness of time and space. That will challenge current technological models and a data retrieval system (the beetles) that will keep Earth informed of the mission's discoveries and its termination. Ryland has been able to breed Astrophage on a small scale, a good engine, the most efficient rocket fuel ever. Large-scale production will solve the fuel problem and solve the weight issue. However, due to time constraints and energy restraints, the mission becomes a one-way suicidal mission. So, aboard a Chinese destroyer in the middle of the South China Sea, Project Hail Mary is born.
Project Hail Mary becomes a reality, but due to an unforeseen accident, one of the original crew members succumbs to the accident, and a replacement is required. Unfortunately, time is a crucial factor, and there is little enough of it to train a new astronaut. So, without raising his hand to volunteer, Ryland is unceremonial chosen based on his intimate knowledge of AP, his familiarity with the mechanical rigours of space travel. The general routine laboratory testing results have shown he carries a genetic marker that will increase his chances of survival while in stasis. Coma resistance in the region that many considered to be junk DNA. Unfortunately, Ryland Grace belies his name and demonstrates very little "grace" at the comprise, clearly an incident where an acting expert has a minimal dividend; he lives up to surname once he recovers, with grace as well as dignity. Given a French amnesiac to facilitate cooperation, this neatly ties into why he awakens aboard a medical facility (after an induced four-year state of suspended animation ) on a spaceship with two dead colleagues and no memory. With his memory slowly restored, he is forced to endure the truth: he is now a crew of one. He busies himself with the burial of his shipmates into deep space. Finally, he resigns to the cruelness of isolation and that the onus of the mission has been placed squarely upon his shoulders. Still, isolation is not negation nor resignation, and there still is the human race to save. Maybe being busy and having access to a comprehensive library will stave off psychoneurotic inclinations; better yet, a companion would assuredly save his sanity. As Ryland assumes an orbit around Tau Ceti, it just so happens that the second option is as easy as looking out the porthole, and there, unbelievably, is an alien ship ripe for contact. Okay, not a porthole! But a mounted camera on the outside of the Hail Mary.
A rudimentary low-tech form of communication becomes the first contact - we'll toss a cylinder at you containing a message, you catch it, answer it and throw it back, viola; message in a bottle. This decisive yet straightforward act initiates a friendship that endures the coldness, bleakness, unforgiving measures of outer space. Their origins of life radically different in every way, separated by countless lightyears drawn together by a microscopic organism destined to eradicate life, all life. The Universe, in all its grandeur, its agelessness, vastness, has contrived the congress of two minor insignificant biological motes to meet by chance; is this a wonder or not! It's interesting to note that it's not the human that initiates contact, but rather the alien. Reciprocation has its rewards. Weir shows us that when faced with a common problem, regardless of origins or race, bridges are built, not demolished. Messages sent back and forth reveals that the alien is from the 40 Eridani star system, traces of ammonia hint at what the alien my breath. Ryland proceeds to do what humans do so well: name things!. The alien ship is allocated the moniker Blip-A; he christens the new life entity Eridian. And after the introductions, the alien becomes known as Rocky (based on his physical appearance). And, we all know what happens when we name something? We become attached to it!
We begin to gather information and insight into Rocky's history. Besides ammonia (NH4) being the main constituent of what he breathes, his species never have developed sight sensory organs. Sonar plays a prominent role when deciphering their surroundings. His race endures an atmosphere 29 times denser than Earth's. They enjoy a squatter body shape due to the force of gravity and pressure of Eridani, complimented by five appendages lending itself to the appearance of a spider, and finally a turtle-like carapace resembling stone. They are monostomes that enjoy an incredibly long life (average is 689 years, Rocky is 291 years old). However, they are technologically reclused compared to humans. They are a space-faring race with no understanding of radiation or what might be understood on his planet as Special Relativity or the concepts of Space-Time or its paradoxes. As it stands, knowledge of radiation (or lack thereof) is responsible for decimating his crew of twenty-three, leaving Rocky as solo heir to an astronomical problem as shared by his human counterpart. Rocky has been at his present location for 46 years! Even as a struggling race, they must understand that two can solve a situation better than just one mind alone. Weir goes to great lengths to prove this by including many subplot twists and obstacles that challenge Ryands' and Rockys' analytical intellects. (Ryland sees Rocky as a mechanical engineering genius). But, to achieve this, the question of communication must first come to the forefront before tackling the fundamental exercise of saving both species.
Imagine how difficult it is for members of the same planet (Earth) to understand each other, there are 6,500 languages to deal with, yet things get done. The concept of language, beautifully illustrated in the 2016 movie Sci-fi/Thriller Arrival, clearly demonstrates how narrow this latitude can be. One culture, one language eliminates the need for variations in interpretation. However, language is universal; we all experience it as to how it relates to reality. The trick is its reduction to an ordinary reality commonly shared/experienced by many with minimal variation. Now, imagine a language so foreign that we have no referential point to unravel this language with all we know. How do we measure its impact on our reality when we have no experience in their reality?
Many factors can influence language development, evolution being the most paramount. The language developed in an alien world could be affected by something as simple as vocal cords or the lack of a voice box. What passes for the air they breathe; can it reproduce sound? As we know it, our atmosphere can transmit sound, but what if an alien worlds' medium will not transmit sound? Do they have organs to hear sounds? What if verbal language or just language is not even part of their evolution or never invented?
As you can see, these are just a few of the issues I thought about, and I'm sure that the imagination could conjure up more. So, when Weir sets out to tackle communicating verbally, he broached the problem of taking a tonal language and making compatible sound ranges with human ones. Seemingly complex, a change in octaves could alter the meaning from love to hate or praise to criticism: basically, tiptoeing around a sensitive issue when dealing with first-timers. Weir tackles this with humour; Rocky doesn't always understand the nuances of English; Ryland lets it slide; it only goes to say that the street runs both ways, and Rocky probably does the same. Remember: "It is often said that the Inuit have dozens of words to refer to snow and ice. Anthropologist John Steckley, in his book White Lies about the Iniut (2007), notes that many often cite 52 as the number of different terms in Inuktitut." However, this is due to generaling the Innuit language. Polysynthesis is a base word anchored to many suffixes whereby the word's meaning has changed. Weir emphasizes this distinction when Ryland observes, "... or some other pronoun I don't have a word for. They may have 17 biological sexes, for all I know. Or none. No one ever talks about the really hard parts of first contact with intelligent alien life: PRONOUNS." Ryland creates a computer programme that helps him translate tones into words. Earth was fortunate enough to send someone with an analytical mind. As the novel progresses, the communicative skills of both parties improve. Improved language skills grow in tandem with their flourishing friendship. Short of having Noam Chomsky, Chomsky would be proud of him!
The novel never lets up. The rendezvous with the planet Adrian can solve the AP problem. But, instead, palatable tension becomes relentless; a cascade of persistent problems, which appear with increasing frequency, offers nail-biting no-win situations. Finally, Weir places the ogre just outside their reach; the only protection from destruction is a few centimetres of aluminum, and the ship is buckling. Heart-pounding fast-paced action made even more intense by the limits of outer space, the claustrophobic living/working quarters, together with the time constraint required to fix the problem, makes it a scene heralded by pure chaos. Here, Weir depends on Ryland and Rocky's strong friendship, their uncontested loyalty to each other; the fury on the ship continues as Rocky makes a life-altering decision. Never has the famous turned phrase "they pulled a MacGyver" been more appropriate. The pageantry of challenges continues and eventually resolves, with a solution to their shared problem: both races saved! Ryland dispatches the four Beetle probes (destination Earth) containing the missions finding and prepares to faces the last full measure.
Friendship knows no boundaries. And I am willing to bet that this axiom is no different, even if it applied to an alien being. Of course, no one can possible say what a relationship like this would be like; however, it's fun to speculate. Because humans are obsessed with the likelihood of life outside of our planetary boundaries, it seems counterintuitive after spending so much time and resources on space exploration that we would negate friendship beyond the stars as an imposition (as long as there is no hostile intent). Nevertheless, Weir has gone the mile; the hands of friendship extend far afield from anything either Ryland or Rocky could imagine. Just think: you travel to the far reaches of space, to another solar system to save your planet's inhabitants, and lucky you, you make a new friend too - how sweet it is!
Rocky has been made aware that Ryland's mission will ultimately end in Rylandy's death, a proposition Rocky has trouble accepting. Death, a poor reward for surviving the numerous hardships, scrapes and escapes they endured together— Rocky engineers (pun intended) a plan to return Ryland to Earth, ironically, using the same organism that fated their meeting. What results instead is acculturation, a bond forged in inseparability. Friendship knows no bounds.
Conclusion
Project Hail Mary went well beyond what I was expecting. I am familiar with Weir's writing style and especially his bold hard-core scientific approach. However, this novel crossed many boundaries and scientific conventions and still managed to envelop you in its authentic embrace. Weir, doing what he does best: pushing the perimeters, edging his way into plausibility. The story is so compelling that when you happen to stumble across a questionable scientific principle that defies credibility, it's easy to forgive for the creativity licence ( after all, some artistic merit should always be allowed). My career is built on the backbone of science, so for hard-core science fiction enthusiasts (like me), when science fiction novels import functioning scientific reasoning, facts, and theories, it makes for a more enjoyable read (for me). Weir knows his science, any of the science he uses to propel his story can easily be verified by a simple search (except for the occasional stretch that I have already mentioned). For those not versed in all the science of quantum physics, astronomy, chemistry, engineering, aerodynamics, and biology, Weir incorporates the science at a level that is comprehensive to the uninitiated and non-threatening. We can look at it this way: you are learning science without all the struggle of tests and exams — a winning situation, a great story that leaves you a little more knowledgeable than you were at the start; it's like paying for one scoop of chocolate mint ice cream but getting two! Let's face it, without all the science, the story would be pointless.
The science in the story heralds humanity's search for the understanding and meaning of nature, an unceremonious pat on the back. The significance of this becomes clearer after Ryland and Rocky meet and share their collective knowledge of science. There are no science groupies to impress in the far outreaches of space, no Nobel committees, no grants, no appeals, and especially, no ceremonies committee; the science works or doesn't. Like language, the science of one world could be (or not) understood from different points of view. The same fundamentals we enjoy here may not even apply or exist elsewhere in the Universe; they may be completely foreign. For example, on Earth, Xenon exists as an inert noble gas. Still, Weir posits that Xenon may exist as a metal elsewhere. What is ceremoniously understood here is that both Ryland and Rocky have eureka moments. They (figuratively) pat each other's backs; however, Ryland may have a bit of an edge, but he does not gasconade. The mark of an excellent scientist is to enlighten the unenlightened. Evidence of this is encountered many times throughout the novel; remember what Ryland's occupation was before becoming our intrepid astral wayfarer? Ryland exemplifies the other side of humanity we all wish we were.
Often, novels can be somewhat autobiographical. And, it seems clear to me that Weir has a deep admiration, respect, and knowledge of science and enjoys its application in his novels. His parents had scientific careers, dad being a particle physicist, while mom was an electrical engineer. His indoctrination would have been chiefly through osmosis and questions. Though his parents divorced when he was young, they made enough of an impact to influence his career choice (computer science), and most notably, his interests; a diet of science fiction novels. The divorce caused him and his mother to relocate with frequency. I can imagine that he spent a great deal of time by himself, "One of the main reasons that isolation is such a recurring theme in my books is that I spent a lot of my life alone and not wanting to be," he said. "I was lonely, and so that ends up being a factor in my stories." Weir's lone wolf underdog, below the radar protagonist, always leaves an enormous footprint at the end of the day. Introverts whose actions (not by design) resound globally. The other exciting effect they seem to possess is summoning global cooperation where political agendas and differences are suspended in favour of our advocate's needs; consequently, sabre-rattling takes a day off.
Weir gives us a lot to ponder. The concept of panspermia is one such perpend. Although, for the purpose of the novel, Weir suggests the hypotheses may not only be responsible for how life began but its distribution throughout the Universe as well, Weir illudes to the commonness of panspermia that includes a common ancestor, in this case, mitochondria due to divergent evolution. Nevertheless, if everything in the Universe resulted from the Big Bang, it stands to reason there is an inherent commonness in the building blocks available. These same building blocks, in different locales throughout the Universe, under varying external pressures, may contribute to mutable physical appearances sharing common attributes. However, they may still function to fulfill the definition of life (with or without water according, to Ryland). Panspermia, still to be proved, fun to speculate and a polished science fiction trope.
I am always impressed when an author takes the time to acknowledge the significant science fiction, and pop culture icons, literary cameos; here are a few I found: Hal 9000 from 2001 A Space Odyssey, The Stooges, The Beatles including, the song A Hards Night, Alien, Predator, Skype, the ubiquitous cell phone, Mad Max, and science fiction author demi-god Robert A.Heinlein.
Weir's choice of novel title and Ryland's surname is a source of interest to me. First, Project Hail Mary. Why not Project Survival or Ryland or some such alternative? Next, let's look at the Prayer Hail Mary. It starts, "Hail Mary full of Grace," well, here we have the names for both title and surname in one swoop. Hail Mary could also refer to the long football pass made in desperation, challenging to achieve, thus invoking the Catholic prayer for help. Of course, this depends on whether your take on religion is football or Catholicism! Ryland Grace, his last name, easily evokes a connection to prayer for help. Ryland's grace is the salvation of humanity, non-holy sanctification minus divine intervention driven by the grace of Ryland rather than the grace of God. His grace stems from his character; he seems to give more than he takes, an unholy saint; in fact, he offers his life; the most significant single act of grace anyone can bestow upon his fellow man. Ryland is instead a complex individual harbouring deep-rooted loyalty and respect for his calling for all his apparent simplicity. Grace is a good surname of our uncanonized saint.
Weir's love for the combination of science and fiction brilliantly shines in what is a magnificent space odyssey of hope, friendship and endurance. It is also a love story, the love one man has for preserving the human race. Finally, it is a story of learning, sharing, forgiveness, and self-sacrifice. Weir has managed to pen another extraordinary tale of survival in the harshness of the final frontier. The story of a doomed pioneer, a minor hero in the pantheon of heroes: he travels into the unknown in what amounts to a tin can Conestoga—limited by time and supplies. A man on a questionable mission, searching for an answer where no solution may be the only reality he encounters in his search. Is he afraid? Yes, of what? Failure, of course. Follow Ryland Grace as his life aboard The Hail Mary proves to be anything but failure.
Weir adds a nice finishing touch depicting the last chapter of his novel. I could not end this essay without mentioning it, and in fact, I almost missed it! Chapter 30 is numerically written in Eridian base 6! Interestingly, the ancient Sumerians' numerical system was sexagesimal (base 6). I do not know if Weir did this deliberately. But if he did, it was brilliant, intimating Ryland's hypothesis of shared ancestral beginnings in something as abstract and unassuming as numbers.
The passage of time will regard this novel as a true classic.
P.S. Remember the children.
"We're as smart as evolution made us. So, we're the minimum intelligence needed to ensure we dominate our planets."
~ Ryland Grace
"What do I call a noble gas that reacts with things? Ignoble."~ Ryland Grace
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