Stardoc (original 2000; edition 2000)

Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil is a woman on the run - chartering a flight off planet in a seedy, rundown bar near the spaceport, she heads for the depths of explored space. Her hope is that in taking a job as a doctor on Kevarzangia Two's Free Clinic, she'll slide under the radar.

Her new employer is hostile, her co-workers are bizarre, and Terrans make up only a tiny percentage of the population. Her new life is challenging, rewarding and even fulfilling - but when plague strikes, her past comes calling with deadly consequences.

Excellent adventure - well-written, with an engaging heroine. The only jarring element for me was the cat. Poor Jenner - perhaps he was supposed to make Cherijo seem more human, but instead he ends up reading like a thrown-in afterthought. ( )

A very good book that thrives on strong, emotional characters and complex interpersonal relationships and skirts the edges of politics and social norms to end up asking the old question about what it means to be human. Stardoc is, in fact, a medical drama in an alien setting rather than science fiction with doctors.

As far as I am concerned, Stardoc is a success in that it had a reader who did not know that there was a series (and is not terribly keen on medical dramas) wanting there to be a series. ( )

I picked up Stardoc by chance a few months ago when I was in the bookstore for something else. I love science fiction with a biology or medical angle, and this looked like it would fit the bill--perhaps an updated, less sexist version of the Sector General novels, but featuring a female protagonist. This is the only book by S. L. Viehl book that I've read, and I don't expect to pursue any more of her books, unless I want to indulge in the morbid urge to drive slowly and stare at the wreckage littering the highway by reading the follow-up Beyond Varallan.

So you can see that this is going to be a negative review. Let's cover the few good points first: the book features a strong, independent woman who is nominally Native American (Cherokee, I believe), and the book readily passes the Bechdel test, and, I think, the Johnson Test, not that this leads to anything good. The story follows Cherijo Grey Veil, a young, brilliant human doctor who flees Earth and a secret from her past to a medical clinic on a remote colony planet. It’s a hybrid space opera and medical drama—what would be considered a “fast-paced, action-packed romp.” The dialogue is occasionally amusing. Viehl describes a parade of aliens that include multiple evolutionary types, including plants and single-cell organisms, and a broad range of sizes. And the premise that humanity is generally quite xenophobic (read: racist) and largely voluntarily confined to the home planet is a refreshing change from the predominant underlying assumption that (usually white-only) humanity is widespread, nay dominant, throughout the galaxies. Of course, this xenophobia is a necessary assumption for the crux point of this novel. We'll get to that. These vaguely positive aspects provide a micrometers-thin veneer of palatability for tired and problematic and even seriously damaging stereotypes and tropes.

The majority of the aliens, unfortunately, conformed to science fiction TV presentations of about human size and shape, with superficial differences in colors, coverings, foreheads, etc. And most disappointing, every single species apparently followed a male/female binary. This is very unoriginal and doesn't even recognize the diverse reproductive strategies on our own planet. Hell, even our own species doesn't neatly split into male and female in every instance. And these myriad aliens apparently are all carbon-based and rely on spoken language (sound waves) to communicate--once again not recognizing the diversity of communication approaches found on our own planet. The medical scenarios are likewise relatively uninteresting, unoriginal, and shallow, including the obligatory emergency surgery without technical assistance to save a patient's life while nurses and colleagues are breathless with admiration. Sigh.

Cherijo is too good to be true, the ultimate Mary Sue, perhaps even exceeding Ensign Wesley Crusher. She’s beautiful, brilliant, and invulnerable. She goes from a surgeon specialized only in human maladies, to ER doctor working with scores of species that she’s never encountered. While maintaining an active social life within the human segment of the population, she proceeds to effortlessly master the physiology and medical knowledge of these many species so that she can quickly diagnose and successfully treat any and all patients despite inadequate and misfunctioning equipment, apparently within a matter of weeks. She’s superhuman!

Cherijo’s the stereotypical talented and principled doctor, along the lines of Dr. Leonord McCoy, Dr. James Kildare, and Marcus Welby, MD, She cares first and foremost for her patient, no matter if it’s an enemy, because that’s Her Mission™. This, of course, makes her new enemies, because she’s aiding and abetting the enemy. Who knew the life of a peaceful yet cantankerous and arrogant doctor would be so fraught with enemies? But it’s okay, because she’s morally superior and always right. She has the predictable run-ins with the inexplicably hostile head of the clinic (Dr. William Mayer) and incompetent colleague and local law enforcement.

Then the head of the clinic boss becomes a staunch supporter in a sudden turnabout during a courtroom scene. This is entirely predictable because Viehl subscribes to the formula that the bad guys are ugly and the good guys are aesthetically pleasing, including the clinic boss—in fact an individual’s moral character is positively correlated and proportional to zie’s attractiveness. Thus Dr. Phorap Rogan is obviously the coward and bully, with his “jaundice yellow” skin and polyp-covered face and foul odor. And his villainy bursts forth during crisis, as Cherijo single-handedly identifies a newly emerging but undetectable epidemic that spreads quickly and fatally through the colony as bureaucrats drag their feet to avoid a panic and protect their interests. Phorap incites a mob, files civil and criminal charges, and otherwise harasses our heroine.

In contrast, Pilot Kao Torin is the romantic hero. However, he’s not just attractive, he’s a fantasy sex fetish for women, once again replete with stereotypes, this time gender based. He’s tall, handsome, yet gentle (from a clan of healers), a PILOT (we know they’re always sexy, look at Top Gun), and blue—the number one favorite color in America (just think of James Cameron’s Avatar). He’s not only not promiscuous, but biologically incapable of cheating—mandatory monogamy with a single life mate—so they’re both virgins the first time. He’s so large and therefore sexually quite fulfilling. SPOILER ALERT--But wait, all of this is too good to be true, plus he’s not human, so he must die, heroically and romantically, of course.

Will the real romantic hero please step forward? Duncan Reeve is the colony’s chief telepathic linguist. So in theory, he’s a great communicator. He too is principled in his work in the face of opposition and misunderstanding and despite personal costs. While he is indeed human, he knows little about being human, thanks to the inhumane upbringing by his xenoanthropologist parents who used him as a research tool in their field studies far from human space. In this sense, he fulfills the same role as characters like Spock, Lieutenant Commander Data, and Lieutenant Worf—the not-quite-human shedding light on what it means to be human.

So where does the aforementioned xenophobia come in? This story is exploring what it means to be human, and sentient, and therefore entitled to basic rights. The dilemma is first embodied in her neighbor Alunthri, a large talking pet cat, which has the feel of another fetish, this time for cat lovers. The conflation of slavery and animal rights is potentially problematic. While I understand the logic that activists use today to draw comparisons between domesticated animals and human slaves (and have made some of those connections myself in the past), these parallels also were used to justify race-based slavery in the United States. And this legacy of racism--comparing people of color to animals and nonhumans--remains commonplace in our culture from political jokes to fantasy novels. Given the shallow, unoriginal writing, it’s hard to see how Viehl could bring a delicate and nuanced touch to such a contentious and difficult topic.

Duncan is fascinated with Cherijo from their first meeting. This leads to some friction (gross understatement here) between him and Cherijo, who instantly takes him into dislike, as he repeatedly violates social norms and personal boundaries. SPOILER ALERT: He mentally assaults her multiple times using his telepathic powers, despite her explicit and strong lack of consent, both verbal and physical. This is followed by a full-on sexual assault. Cherijo is the Good Victim who says no multiple times, physically resists, violently defends herself, but still is overpowered and penetrated. Oh but wait, it wasn’t rape after all, because in the end, her involuntary sexual response meant that she wanted it as much he did. What the hell kind of message is this? No. NO NO NO. IT IS STILL RAPE. And he didn’t want to do it, but he had no choice, he was really trying to save her life. So sometimes rape is a necessary thing. Once again, no. NO NO NO. I reject this completely. The pernicious rape-as-romance trope just needs to go away now. This scene alone is sufficient for me to never pick up another book by Viehl. ( )

This is one of those books you finish, and immediately haul your ass back to the bookstore to find volume 2 (and 3, and so on). I absolutely loved this book.

Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil is a brilliant, talented human surgeon. The story begins with her scouring the city slums for a pilot that will get her off Terra (Earth)—she is running from something, although the audience doesn’t know quite what it is she’s running from yet. Kind of reminiscent of A New Hope, Cherijo searches bars and taverns for a shuttle that will take her where she wants to go, and won’t ask questions. She finds her own personal Han Solo (minus the good looks) in an off-worlder pilot named Dhreen, who has his own bucket of bolts to fly her out to Kevarzanga-2 (aka K2), where she has put in for a position as a doctor in the colony’s free clinic. Cherijo arrives at the K2 clinic and thinks she has finally escaped the oppressive shadow of her father, Dr. Joseph Grey Veil. Unfortunately, things are never that easy. Immediately, Cherijo is at a disadvantage on K2—Terrans (humans) only make up less than 1% of the population, and she has never operated on nor studied non-Terran beings before. In an understaffed hospital filled with aliens of all sorts, this is problematic. Cherijo rises to the myriad challenges presented before her, and while she does make mistakes, she does her job with flair and a cool confidence. Along the way she has to deal with her nasty father trying to bring her home, coming to grips with a dark secret about her past, co-workers that despise and try to sabotage her, hostage crises, an epidemic of a deadly contagion that has no known origin or cure, and falling in love.

Think of it as House meets Star Trek meets Gattaca meets General Hospital.

In an insanely addictive, GOOD way.

Cherijo is a pretty cool chick. She’s smart and completely dedicated to her job. She’s a hothead and bossy and domineering, but she also is sensitive and frankly naïve. And the poor girl goes through a LOT. The strongest part of this book to me was in Ms. Viehl’s detailed and (I’m assuming) accurate medical practice descriptions. Faced with alien anatomy, communication problems and information gaps, Cherijo methodically goes about using common sense and her own Terran medical knowledge to operate on her patients. When the deadly outbreak of unknown origins grips K2 and threatens to wipe out the entire population, Cherijo’s feelings of pained guilt and desperation to find a cure are touching—I was on the edge of my seat, willing her to figure it out.

Ms. Viehl does a wonderful job of creating a large scale story with multiple characters and interwoven plotlines, and still manages to give everything good depth and complexity. Having now read books 2 and 3, I can assure you that even the smallest, most off-hand encounters have major repercussions in the future. It’s really quite impressive.

For you romance junkies out there, this book has a touching, tragic love story. Cherijo falls in love with a Jorenian (a tall, blue, sexy alien) named Kao Torin—a species that mates for life. At the same time, oddball Terran (and psychic) translator Duncan Reever won’t leave Cherijo alone, and they form a kind of love-hate relationship. I don’t want to spoil anyone, so I will leave it barebones like this. I know, I’m a shameless tease. (Psst, romance fans—there is sex!)

A word on the “science”—this isn’t hard science fiction. It plays fast and loose with rules, and the book takes a lot of liberties and happy coincidences concerning alien species. Interstellar travel isn’t really explained in any detail (there’s some vague notions about molecules being separated, and then restructured—not all unlike the Starship Enterprise’s transporter beams), all the aliens breathe the same air that humans do, eat similar foods, have appendages or evolutionary traits that they really don’t need (besides the fact that they look cool) …but I don’t hold this against Ms. Viehl. On the contrary, this book is more along the lines of Star Trek or Star Wars—favoring the story over any scientific technicalities. While hard science fiction is fun (albeit somewhat exhausting to read—see Dan Simmons’ Hyperion Cantos), Stardoc also manages to satisfy without all the jargon and particle physics. Good old fashioned “that could never REALLY happen but who cares I like it anyways” fun.

Notable quotes/parts: One of my favorite parts of the book is when Cherijo is held at shotgun and forced to deliver Hsktskt babies. The Hsktskt are reptilian, mercenary aliens that are merciless and deadly—and they don’t live on K2. Since there is little data on the species, the translating devices that everyone wears on the planet can’t pick up what the Hsktskt want; and naturally everyone is in a panic because the larger mercenary is pointing a gun at everyone, dragging along his comrade that is obviously in pain. Cherijo, with her no-nonsense approach to saving her patients faces down the barrel of the shotgun, tells the angry Hsktskt to back off, and figures out that the smaller alien is in labor…and then proceeds to deliver a number of lizard-like babies (which are deadly at birth too, to complicate matters further). It’s a pretty cool chapter.

Additional Thoughts: While the book might start out feeling like a more light-hearted romp into space, I should probably forewarn you that this is not really accurate. There is pain in this book, and Cherijo goes through a lot. A LOT. I was nearly in tears at the end. There is one scene in particular that seemingly comes out of nowhere and feels icky…but please trust me when I say everything happens for a reason. One thing I really appreciated about this book (and moreso in book 2) is how difficult emotions can be, and I like it when authors aren’t afraid to complicate things.

I feel like Yoda. That paragraph is ridiculously cryptic, but I don’t want to spoil anyone. See, you shall, after reading the book.

Verdict: Definitely a keeper. Buy it! I am loving the saga, and can’t wait to check out Ms. Viehl’s other work.

Full Review at:
http://thebooksmugglers.blogspot.com/2008/02/book-review-stardoc.html ( )

Stardoc was the first book to whet my appetite for Science Fiction. I'm glad I overlooked its dreadful cover (yet another great sci-fi that fell victim to terrible cover art). Give it a try; it's an addictive series. ( )