My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Pandemics, quarantine, lockdowns are normal fare for SF writers. As usual Neal Ascher doesn’t disappoint, his stories are “peopled” by
giant fish-like heirodonts and ocean-going leeches the size of blue whalesand
leeches with their plug-cutting mouths and the snappy claws and other sharp limbs of glisters and prillfrom the fearsome planet Spatterjay. Gorst-vaankle engines power warplanes in the war involving Meeps, Loobers Cheevers Groogers etc. However, an sfional Pygmalion and Robinson Crusoe amalgam rambles on and on, it could have been pruned and made more gripping.
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