“So you’re some weird-ass species traitor deviant type. Fine. I can work with that.”
This could have been a mind-blowing SF challenge to contemporary thinking, but Tchaikovsky gets distracted making cheap shots and almost loses his way. Weak on science, especially on Mars.
Even I remember those days, no rights, no responsibilities. No knowledge of good and evil.
Skip the Thompson chapters. Distract. Lost a star for gratuitous politics. (Do English get to hate Trump so intensely?) Tchaikovsky should have recognized the parallel to the mischief caused by limited liability corporations being legal entities.
Sounds exactly like the kind of crazy that gets a copy of your mind sent to Mars for safekeeping.
Lost another star for gratuitous profanity, which increases logarithmically toward end. Three stars is a gift, though this should have been four or five.
Once she’s saved us from Thompson she’ll want to save us from ourselves.
(Paradoxically, tried and gave up on Dogs of War.)