Review by Ian Keogh
It’s clear from a disturbing prologue that Jared Throne doesn’t see humanity’s expansion into space as greatly positive. We’ve brought our mistakes with us, which means problems have spread, represented by mining outfit Partna. As explained by disgraced former executive Garrett, their policy is to claim an uninhabited planet and set up systems to strip out all resources over several decades. However, as these systems are largely automated they’re possibly also vulnerable. To cement Partna’s role as the evil corporation, Garrett also suggests they’re hardly thorough in checking planets are uninhabited.
While adorned with SF trappings, at heart Bridge Planet Nine begins as a classic crime caper, the intention being to steal the yield from a remote outpost’s automated shipping facility. Throne lays out the plan as he introduces the cast, then explores their vulnerabilities. These are people we can care for looking for a break to pull them out of a hand to mouth life, with Pearl, the pilot, most sympathetic for being screwed over and left to fend for herself. By the time the crew arrive on Bridge Planet Nine, we’ve come to know them and our sympathies are entrenched. And that’s when it all goes horribly wrong.
Throne’s creativity is on display throughout. The joy of a crime caper is how the participants overcome the unexpected roadblocks thrown up, and he conceives several, most of which fall into spoiler territory. However, a particularly nice touch is Wes, the programming whiz, creating a small flying robot only able to communicate verbally via phrases connected with parking. They’re cleverly used to comment on events.
In terms of pacing Bridge Planet Nine is a book of two halves. Throne feels it necessary to take things slowly as the cast are introduced, but from planetary landing the pace never lets up. While colour art would seem necessary for SF, Throne proves that’s not the case, and the greytoned black and white art emphasises a drab future. The only distinctive visual signature is individual masks, their use connected with a secret discovered by Pearl and Wes. When it comes to technology, though, Throne is impressionistic, implying rather than distracting with detail.
That connects with a moral imperative shifting the story emphasis. Given what’s discovered, should the original plan continue or should the team adapt to circumstances and undertake a different mission? It’s a turning point revealing who people really are and whether we’ve really come to know them.
Considering the offbeat and quirky are present throughout, the ending conforms a little too closely and certainly too easily to the expectations of SF action projects. However, it’s in a way that’s at least consistent with what’s happened while completing a character arc for Wes. There’s both fun and tension here, while Throne has something to say about human priorities, so well worth your time.
