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really bland, but oddly readable
on 25 June 2000
Trevor Baxendale gives us a surprisingly well-defined alien race and a promisingly different start to a book.
Then it all becomes about tribe leaders, arguments, errant sons, impending catastrophy and all the other silly little things that run-of-the-mill Dr Who and the Monsters books are always about.
It plays itself entertainingly out (well, as entertainingly as any book about something-nasty-in-the-pipes can be), with the predictable deaths of vast numbers of characters we care nothing about.
The series has developed a boring preoccupation with quantity of death over quality. It seems as though we never meet an alien planet these days without vast amounts of death following swiftly on. If we cared, then so much the better - but we don't. The characters are never differentiated enough for us to feel anything other than a vague distaste (after all, it's so much easier to kill off lots of people in graphic ways than create one character who we really, really care about).
It just happens, which is the best thing that can be said about it.