In Pascal’s SF novel, a TV actress who is secretly an interplanetary/time-travelling agent ventures through different eras and dimensions seeking her MIA elder brother.
The author here compiles the three installments (some previously published) of her Zygan Emprise trilogy. In the present-day (more or less) universe, Shiloh Rush is an ingenue starring in the SF streaming series Bulwark, fighting Hollywood-scripted galactic evil. But this is actually a cover story for Shiloh’s astounding off-screen existence, which she shares with her gay British co-star William Escott. They are “catascopes,” secret agents employed by the powerful Zygan Federation of the Andromeda galaxy. Equipped with near-magical weaponry and techniques (including shape-shifting, size-shifting, levitation, teleportation, resurrection from the dead, and time travel), Shiloh and the impressively scholarly Escott (nicknamed “Spud”) embark on fraught missions all over the place (including one in 1947 to Roswell, New Mexico, that will have repercussions), often in the company of alien creatures who resemble everything from bears to whirlpools of liquid or vapor to “one being who looked like an animated Erector Set.” Shiloh’s overlord is the Omega Archon, a godlike entity with multitudinous rules for his minions; terrible punishment (simulated burning in literal Hell) awaits those who transgress—and Shiloh often transgresses. The Zygan Federation’s chief antagonist, it seems, is Theodore Benedict, an unimpressive office-clerk type who marshals the frightening resources at his disposal (including a gallery of well-placed traitors among the “Zygfed”) in a scheme to accumulate power and confound the Zygan Archon. Shiloh’s chief motivation is the fact that her cherished elder brother John Rush, a physics genius who was recruited as a Zygan catascope years earlier, disappeared on a mission six years ago. She hunts for him at every opportunity, her quest eventually taking her to parallel worlds and different dimensions. Is John alive, dead, trapped, or a secret ally of the slippery Benedict, rebelling against the increasingly malevolent Omega Archon?
While the narrative displays a certain Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy tongue-in-cheekiness, the overall effect of the novel is more akin bingeing on the vintage European Heavy Metalgraphic magazine—with a lot of Joseph Campbell and Neil Gaiman on the side. (Just for openers, there is a sortie to 2,000 years in the past that puts none other than Jesus Christ, alias Immanuel the Teacher, in peril.) The story luxuriates in both high and low culture, sometimes threatening to grow twee but righting itself with breathtaking flip-flops between the good guys and bad guys and those in between. Various plot threads reference The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Paradise Lost, Jason and the Argonauts, Star Trek, Norse mythology, and the two Arthurs—Conan Doyle and C. Clarke. The material is safe for a sophisticated YA-and-older readership; it’s the heavy slurry of fantasy jargon (like “Plegma,” “Syneph,” “M-fanning,” and “Octopodal”) and more arcane classical idioms that are tough to navigate. By the conclusion, the magical art of storytelling itself has become woven into the narrative, recalling William Goldman’s The Princess Bride (1973) and Yann Martel’s Life of Pi (2001). It is a trip worth taking.
A rambunctious space opera and metafictional celebration of the power of imagination.