PARALLEL

In Rohla’s SF novel, an emotionally-invested human observer of a distant planet breaks all the rules and makes contact with alien life.

Future Homo sapienson a ruined, polluted Earth have found a stable “wormhole” portal that inexplicably hangs above a remote part of the Pacific. It leads to a wildlife preserve on the planet of Ysa, populated by humanoids—the tall, scaly, non-aggressive Aquila—who are sublimely advanced in many ways but not in others; blind spots in their scientific development, for example, have left them ignorant of things like weapons (and the miraculous poral). On the Earth side, humans have kept tabs on the Aquila for years via drones and remote-sensor cameras cunningly planted by the human “sea base,” maintaining a non-interference policy while hungering for the aliens’ technology to exploit. Luna Reynolds is a disaffected young woman literally groomed from childhood to learn the Aquila language and customs. Luna enjoys the time she spends observing the Ysa household of two high-achieving orphaned brothers, scientists Ictis and Sarin. Using a modified drone, Luna actually speaks with Sarin, who thinks he simply has an Aquila secret admirer with a cute gizmo—not an off-planet girlfriend in the throes of cross-species ardor. When an Earth virus passes through the wormhole and begins killing the vulnerable Aquila, Sarin is one of the millions left infected and dying. Luna, horrified when the monitoring project director delays medical assistance, risks going through the portal—a one-way trip with death the likely outcome for this spy in the interplanetary house of love. Rohla sets up a compelling situation, exploring a a hopeless crush that would seem to violate all taboos on two worlds. When not chastely rhapsodizing about the erotic allure of scales (“His hand is so warm” is as hot as it gets), the author touches on provocative themes of humankind’s dismal record of imperialism and amoral abuse of other cultures. The science isn’t overly heavy, and the storytelling is solid enough to allow readers to forgive the fact that some key plot twists may be perceived approaching from light years away.

The SF premise gains gravitas thanks to its astringent narrator and life-or-extinction stakes.