Tag: SF

The Blind Spot, by Michael Robertson

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Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

On the surface, Scala City is an idyllic, hi-tech world of prosperity, peace and morality, albeit at the cost of omnipresent surveillance of its residents. But there’s a dirty little secret. The Blind Spot is an area where surveillance is barred, and where the citizens of Scala City go to blow off their sordid steam. Its residents have cybernetically enhanced bodies, something rejected by Scala City, and a zero-tolerance policy for any kind of monitoring. It’s run by Wrench, who has kept his daughter Marcie Hugo under strict control since the death of her mother. However, like all teenagers, the 16-year-old Marcie is seeking to spread her wings, and has been making covert excursions into Scala City, with the aim of moving there some day soon.

The problem is, an escalating series of terrorist attacks have been occurring in the city, which it appears someone is trying to blame on the Blind Spot, in order to trigger a war between them and the city. After one of Marcie’s trips is caught on camera, the heat gets turned up, and she – along with the Blind Spot’s most infamous computer hacker – becomes the only person who can prevent a conflict that could lead to the destruction (at least in a digital sense) of both sides. She believes the perpetrators may have help from inside the Blind Spot, suspecting in particular a close accomplice of Wrench, who also happens to be the father of her best friend.

The world-building here is solid enough. As well as Marcie, events unfold through the sad eyes of Nick, an overweight and largely unloved Scala City resident. He’s addicted to the Wellbeing App, which records only the positive things people say about each other, sharing it with them. This is…scarily plausible, to be honest, though the split focus is a little unwieldy. No connection between this pair of story lines is established until about two-thirds of the way through the book, although they work well enough on their own terms. The idea of a city with a Jekyll and Hyde personality is also well-executed.

A bigger problem, for me, was the sudden reticence on Marcie’s end. Initially, we experience things through her eyes, knowing everything she knows. Then, at a certain point, we get cut out of the loop, from a narrative point of view, as she and her hacker pal begin their plot to track down and expose the real terrorists. We’re left on the outside, not knowing what’s going on – and when we do find out, there naturally being a grand reveal, it’s not very satisfying. It relies too much on the “all-powerful hacker” trope, and the identity of the traitor in their midst is also unconvincing. The story ends up being a swing and a miss, though with the book being free on Amazon, I probably can’t complain. Though it’d have to be at the same price point to get me to go any further into the series.

Author: Michael Robertson
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Neon Horizon series.

Vesper

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★★★½
“Battle Angel Nausicaa”

As the above suggests, I was getting a strong manga influence, in particular from the works of Hayao Miyazaki: it feels like the script could have been something he’d have written on a gloomy Wednesday in January. Feisty teenage heroine? Check? Ecological message? Check. For this takes place after some kind of change in the world, which has left the bulk of the population clinging on to existence by their grubby fingernails, in a world now owned by bizarre flora. Vesper (Chapman) is one such, tending to her paralyzed father (Brake) whose consciousness has been transferred into a drone. She trades with her uncle, Jonas (Marsan), swapping blood for the seeds they need to survive.

Yet there’s also elements of Battle Angel Alita, with a sharp delineation between the haves and the have-nots. The latter live privileged lives in Citadels, served by artificial lifeforms called “jugs”, and as suppliers of the seeds, hold everyone else in their control. One day, a Citadel craft crashes near Vesper’s home, and she rescues Camelia (McEwen) from the wreckage. She promises to take Vesper and her father back to her home. Yet it eventually becomes clear that Camelia is not being 100% honest about her own situation either. On the other hand, she is potentially the key to liberating everyone from under the thumb of the Citadels, and ending their monopoly on the resources necessary for survival. It’s not something the rulers will give up easily, however.

This is rather ponderous in its progress, running close to two hours, and is clearly content to take its time getting to any of its points. If you’re willing to accept that, there’s a lot to appreciate here, not least some great visual style and world-building. This has to be one of the most fully convincing post-apocalyptic landscapes I’ve seen, a remarkable achievement considering its budget was a mere five million Euros. Vesper is a heroine right out of the Nausicaa playbook: someone who is smart and brave, rather than physically strong, devoted to her family, and who has an inherent affinity for the natural world. Her mother left the family, under circumstances best described as murky, and Camelia is a surrogate, to some extent.

It does feel as if the makers fell in love with their creation a little more than I did, and wanted to wallow in the imagination, at the expense of developing the plot. No-one seems in a particular hurry here, and for every scene which moves the story forward, there’s another that seems to exist purely as a visual showcase. I think it might work better at 90 minutes than 120 – or alternatively, expanded beyond the confines of a feature film. This is the kind of thing I could certainly imagine HBO developing into a series. The ending came close to toppling into “Eh?” territory, before a final shot where it made sense, and wrapped things up on easily the most optimistic note we’d heard. Miyazaki would likely approve.

Dir: Kristina Buozyte, Bruno Samper
Star: Raffiella Chapman, Rosy McEwen, Eddie Marsan, Richard Brake

Pride & Prejudice & Airships, by Caylen McQueen

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Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆½

As the title suggests, this is one of those literary mash-ups, similar to Pride & Prejudice & Zombies. However, beyond the steampunk influence apparent from the title, this adds another major twist, with the universe here being a gender-swapped one. For in this world, women run everything, with men being largely reduced to waiting for the opposite sex to woo them. Specifically to the novel, meet the Bennet family, who have five sons, whom their parents are increasingly keen to see married off. However, that’s going to be easier said than done in some cases. Elisander, for example, has some newfangled notions about the place of men in contemporary society: that they should be allowed to pilot airships, for one. Another brother is gay, a needless conceit which feels shoehorned into proceedings, in a particularly clunky fashion. 

While Elisander represents the main protagonist of the book, it’s the unusual setting which qualifies it for inclusion on this site. Of particular interest is Darcy Fitzwilliam, a female military captain who initially enters the plot as the best friend of a landowner to whom the Bennett parents are keen to wed a son. More or less any son. She takes an instant dislike to the family in general, and Elisander in particular – the antipathy is largely mutual. But you likely won’t be surprised to hear, that over the course of the book, the relationship between the two thaws out.

Also of interest is Darcy’s foster sister, Georgette Wickham, a pirate in the high skies. She owns an airship, which Georgette and her female crew use to carry out robberies. The Bennet family are one such victim, though Georgette turns out to be a bit more complex than she initially appears, particularly in her relationship with Darcy, and her half-cyborg sister. I’d like to have read more about them, and indeed the gynocentric society as a whole. I have… questions. How did it become this way? How does the issue of having and rearing children get handled? Despite an enticing cover, the book is annoyingly uninterested in things outside the Bennett clan and their marriage plans. The tech is also vague, being whatever is needed for the plot. For instance, there’s a throwaway reference to a “chip”. But just the one.

I will confess to not having read Jane Austen’s 1813 original, so that aspect of this mash-up is completely lost on me. As a steampunk story on its own terms, this is okay, though I’d liked to have seen more action from the women. In particular, it feels like it’s setting up a confrontation between Darcy and Georgette. While this does eventually take place, it’s over, almost before it has started. Perhaps there is more of note in the follow-up volume, Pride & Prejudice & Pirates? But there’s not enough here to make me more than marginally interested in finding out whether or not that is the case.

Author: Caylen McQueen
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book.
Book 1 of 2 in the Steampunk Pride & Prejudice series.

The Witch: Part 2. The Other One

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★★½
“Which witch is which?”

This showed up as a bit of a surprise. Obviously, even the title suggested that the makers were looking for a sequel to The Witch: Part 1. The Subversion. However, I had no idea whether or not it had been successful enough to merit a follow-up. Clearly the answer is yes, though I would certainly recommend you either re-watch, or at the very least read up on, the preceding entry. Even at a rather bloated 137-minute running time, it does not provide any “Previously, on The Witch…” recap. You’re entirely on your own, and after a brief prologue, you will be dropped right into things, though any connection to the previous film only becomes apparent at the very end.

It begins with the escape of “Ark 1” (Shin) from the research facility where she has been undergoing experiments. Stumbling onto a road, she’s picked up by a car containing Kyung-hee (Park), a young woman who is in serious trouble with the gangsters also present in the car. Ark 1 handily defeats them after they get a bit too friendly, quickly earning Kyung-Hee’s gratitude. She takes Ark 1 back to live with her and her brother, Dae-gil (Sung), introducing Ark 1 to the delights of food. The gangsters are none too happy with getting their butts kicked, and regroup for another attempt. They’re not the only ones after Ark 1 either, as her former “owners” sent out an agent, Jo-hyeon (Seo), with talents of her own, to retrieve their property.

As the rather clunky sub-title implies, this is mostly about an entirely different character to the preceding movie. This feels like a bit of a cheat, as if you’d carefully studied for a pop quiz, only for it to be for another subject entirely. Instead, you get a plot which, even at the extended running time, feels rather too over-stuffed. The remarkable coincidence of Ark 1 stumbling into a car containing the very person who can help her, and that simultaneously needs her help, is just the first in quite a few moments where people happen to be in the right place at the right time. I suspect there’s also a plot thread or two more than is beneficial to overall coherence.

This is especially true at the end, where the various factions converge and have a massive battle in poorly-lit conditions. Going by what I saw earlier, this may have been the makers’ way of disguising the CGI. It’s an area with scope for improvement, especially when Ark 1 is demonstrating her remarkable super strength, by hurling people. cars, etc. around with enthusiasm. I suspect this is a victim of second movie syndrome, being the entry in a trilogy that has neither a start nor an ending. I do have to cut it some slack on that basis, and presuming the series is finished (and this was a top 10 film in Korea for 2022), I’ll still be tuning in for the finale. There’s just enough potential, even if my expectations are quire restrained.

Dir: Park Hoon-jung
Star: Shin Si-ah, Park Eun-bin, Seo Eun-soo, Sung Yoo-bin 

No Honor in Death, by Eric Thomson

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Literary rating: ★★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

This SF novel takes place in the future where the human Commonwealth is engaged in a brutal space war against the militaristic Shrehari Empire – imagine Klingons on krack, perhaps. They have superior technology, but humanity’s ability to think outside the box and improvise has helped level the playing field. Siobhan Dunmoore has just survived  – emphasis on “just” – a battle against the Imperial cruiser Tol Vakash of Captain Brakal, forcing him to retreat by attempting a kamikaze crash of her badly-damaged craft into his. As a “reward”, she is assigned command of the Stingray, a craft with a bad reputation. Its previous captain is now facing a Disciplinary Board, and the crew are barely even trying. It seems Dunmoore has been set up to fail, and she’ll need to overcome resistance from enemies both domestic and alien, as well as overt and covert, before she can even think about going another round with Captain Brakal.

I felt the most interesting section of this was following Dunmoore as she attempted to lick her crew and the Stingray back into a shape, where they could survive an encounter with the Shrehari. Both of them are in need of a lot of work. The former are utterly demoralized after events under the previous captain (including a number of suspicious deaths), and the latter has been short-changed on supplies and resources, to the point it’s largely held together with sticks and wire. Fixing them require their new captain to use a lot of psychology, both in order to get the crew to trust her, and extract the necessary materials from the Commonwealth and its bureaucracy. It works almost as a “how-to” manual for aspiring leaders, and even if that’s not exactly me, still makes for an engaging read. I also liked the very final face-off between Dunmoore and Brakal, their two ships edging round the perilous environment of an asteroid field, where Stingray‘s manoeuvrability gives it an edge. 

However, in between the Stingray taking off and the last battle, the book struggles with its descriptive passages. There is a large chunk taking place in hyperspace, and Thomson never manages to make clear the rules which apply here, resulting in the discussion of “jumps” and “bubbles” failing to make sense. Worse, this brings the pace of the book to a halt, with entire pages you find yourself barely skim-reading. There’s also rather too extended of a coda after the battle, as the book tries to tie up a lot of loose ends – mostly ones we never particularly cared about to begin with. On the other hand, I did appreciate the effort put into making Brakal an interesting adversary, with his own set of motivations. He and Dunmoore represent the book’s greatest strengths, and it’s at its best when concentrating on them. If subsequent volumes do that, I’d be tempted to try them.

Author: Eric Thomson
Publisher: Sanddiver Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 7 in the Siobhan Dunmoore series.

Warchild: Pawn, by Ernie Lindsey

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Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

This dystopian future takes place after the United States of America is no longer united, having fragmented into a group of disparate regions that exist in an uneasy piece with each other. The heroine is 14-year-old Caroline, who lives in a remote part of the Appalachians, her town loosely affiliated to the People’s Republic of Virginia. She’s a scout, and one day encounters forces from the Democratic Alliance. The population of her village who escape, head towards the state capital of Warrenville, pursued by the invading army. On the way, Caroline begins to come into startling abilities which were literally injected into her as a small child.

The collapse of the US is a concept which seems considerably more relevant now, than when the book originally came out in 2014; I was surprised to discover that it takes place several centuries into the future, rather than… oh, next Tuesday. This is the element which I think I found most interesting. While the story is a real page-turner, and I enjoyed it at the time, it’s one where I found myself stumbling into plot-holes when it came to writing the review. For instance, if you can get superpowers by syringe, why are there less than a handful of people so enhanced? I’d have expected the authorities to be all over that kind of thing, in particular the military. Instead, it seems almost to be like a post-apocalyptic version of winning the lottery.

Similarly, the way in which Caroline leads the refugees to Warrenville would have made more sense if she’d come into her powers first. That would plausibly help turn the teenager into a Joan of Arc-like figure. Instead, it seems rather contrived the way adults – even the fiercely independent and survivalist Republicons – defer to her, for no particular reason beyond Caroline being the heroine of the book. However, if you can get past that (and again, I didn’t really think about them while I was reading it), then you should be able to enjoy a fast-paced surge of a book, which tends to have something going on, more often than not.

Lindsey certainly doesn’t pull his punches. On more than one occasion a character meets an unexpected and brutal end, and this gives a sense of danger for the rest of them. Well, except Caroline, of course, who is fully engulfed in Heroine Armour, naturally. Still, there is a genuine character arc here, as her relatively pastoral existence is turned completely upside down, and she’s forced into maturity over the course of just a few days, after losing everything she knows. I would be tempted to read the next two volumes, just to see where the story goes: for instance, I’m curious about what happened to Crockett’s gang of Republicons, who just wandered off in the middle of the story. Though I’d need more of a “special offer” for the omnibus edition than the 49-cent saving it provides over buying parts two and three separately!

Author: Ernie Lindsey
Publisher: JCL Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Warchild series.

Dinosaur Hotel

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★½
“Should have gone extinct”

Roughly ten minutes into this, it was clear I’d made a terrible mistake. I’ve seen my share of wretched creature features in my time, and this is down near the bottom of the barrel. It does have an interesting, if totally ludicrous idea. Five women are invited to a remote hotel, to take part in a game-show, competing for a prize of £100,000. Among them is struggling single mother Sienna (Wunna) who, unable to find a baby-sitter, takes her two kids with her. As the cover ever so subtly suggests, the game has carnivorous dinosaurs roaming the hotel and grounds, and “winning” simply means not getting eaten. Naturally, Sienna’s two kids also disobey Mum’s instructions not to leave the room.

There are only two things stopping this from being any good. Unfortunately, those are the budget and a complete lack of film-making ability. Wunna isn’t bad, as the competitor on whom the movie focuses. There were points at which I found myself teetering on the edge of actually giving a damn about her, and the other women are competent enough to pass muster. However, it was a horrendous mistake to have Sienna’s two kids played, it appears, by her two real kids. Professional child actors are bad enough; amateurs like these (“What. Was. That?”)  are completely unwatchable. The Games Master (John) delivers his lines with more emotion, and he’s a robotic eye in the sky.

I suspect the two issues mentioned above interact with each other. By this I mean, the depiction of the dinosaurs is so inept, it hamstrings the director in terms of what he can do. Shot of extinct, hungry reptile. Shot of contestant looking terrified, and probably screaming. Thoroughly unconvincing shot of reptile eating contestant. Rinse. Repeat. There’s no sense of escalation or real development, beyond one of the competitors being a plant. Oops, I’ve spoiled it. Sue me. There’s a (rather unconvincing) gun found at one point, and that might have been an interesting way to develop things, with various “power-ups” being available. The writer couldn’t be bothered, apparently.

Mind you, the same goes for just about every other aspect of the script too, including the logistical one of how no-one has apparently noticed dinosaurs roaming rural England. As a result of this laziness and general incompetence, everything unfolds in utterly predictable fashion. The dinosaurs refuse to eat the children, and the film can’t even be bothered to play by its own rules. It has repeatedly been stressed that as far as winners go, to borrow a line from Highlander, there can be only one. Then, at the end… Nah, never mind. And that’s aside from the question of how the winner is going to get paid after the person running the event has been eaten. Oops, more spoilers. But if you still wish to watch this, after everything I have said above, a) I have failed at my job as a critic, and b) you deserve whatever results.

Dir: Jack Peter Mundy
Star: Chrissie Wunna, Chelsea Greenwood, Alexander John, Ruby Wunna

You Have Been Judged, by Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle

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Literary rating: ★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

This is another entry in the sprawling Kurtherian Gambit universe, which must have well over a hundred books in it, by a slew of different authors. I’m gradually coming to a couple of conclusions: a) it’s a very loosely-tied series, and b) the quality varies. When you give your book a title like this, evoking the spirit of Judge Dredd, you are setting certain expectations. Unfortunately, this is a book which fails to meet them, with a heroine who never achieves the level of intensity necessary to live up to the series title: Judge, Jury, Executioner. It has reached 16 volumes, which suggests either there’s a market for it, or the author has too much time on their hands. No prizes for guessing my opinion.

I guess this is loosely “legal space opera,” with the heroine being Rivka Anoa, a barrister who has the talent to read people’s memories and feelings through simple physical contact. When a criminal she knows is guilty gets released, she can’t control herself and kills him. Arrested, she’s given the Nikita choice. Work for the government as an all-in-one justice system, or pay the price for her homicide. Not exactly a difficult choice, and she is quickly pumped full of nanomachines to enhance her physical abilities, trained in lethal arts by her mentor, Grainger, and sent off across the universe with a bodyguard, Red… to troubleshoot a family squabble.

Yeah, my disappointment was palpable. I get it’s a governor’s family squabble: still, it felt like James Bond being assigned to direct traffic. The other mission in this book, brokering a treaty between two squabbling planets, wasn’t particularly interesting, exciting or a good use of her newly-acquired talents either. Indeed, her original ability, being able to sense emotions and history by touch – something you’d think would make her unstoppable as a member of the legal profession – is hardly ever used. Speaking of which, in terms of law, this is so unconvincing, to the degree it can only be read as childish parody.

With the emphasis there firmly on “childish”. Rivka doesn’t sound at all like a barrister, and even less like a judge. You get absolutely no sense about the moral weightiness of having to hand down capital punishment, and the attempts at witty banter between her and Grainger are flat-out cringe inducing. Do not even get me started on an alien species being vulnerable to being kicked in the crotch. Yeah, we are literally at the “Ow! My Balls!” level of entertainment here, folks. I was quite glad the last 12% of the book was unnecessary filler like the author’s outline, which I could skip entirely. I don’t know how much input Anderle had into this, but I would strongly recommend he exercise a greater degree of quality control over the material which goes out under his imprint. This kind of rubbish leaves me very cautious about buying other Kurtherian Gambit books.

Author: Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 16 in the Judge, Jury, Executioner Book series.

Stolen Future, by Cameron Coral

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Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

A woman wakes up in a bedroom, with no knowledge of where she is, how she got there, or even who she is. Gradually, she (and the reader) find out the answers to at least some of those questions. Her name is Diya, and the bedroom is on Luna, which has now been settled and colonised by humanity. That’s the simple part. The rest? It’s complex. But is summary, she is a cyborg, created as part of a black budget research project by the NeuroDyne Corporation (Earth’s biggest employer – they basically own Iceland). An employee who had moral qualms about the scheme, smuggled Diya off-planet, stashing her with his blind sister Terry and a robot caregiver. But NeuroDyne aren’t letting their investment just walk away. 

It’s a bit of a slow-burn. While there’s no doubt that Diya has been significantly upgraded in a number of areas, her new talents are only gradually revealed. She doesn’t even leave the apartment until about a quarter of the way through, and that’s only briefly, to rescue Terry from some street thugs. The heroine does eventually head off on her own, seeking more information on the streets of Luna, with the help of a memory hacker called Ryken. However, that puts her firmly on NeuroDyne’s radar, who send another cyborg, called a Scyther, to track Diya down and bring her back. It won’t take “No” for an answer, and the company’s power gives their minion an almost unfettered lack of responsibility. 

It feels like Battle Angel Alita is definitely an inspiration, with both having a human-machine hybrid as a heroine, seeking her own identity in a futuristic, urban environment, and starting from a “blank slate”. The world Coral creates is quite detailed, and it’s nice that it is one we discover alongside Diya. This future is clearly one where corporations hold power, though in this volume at least, we only scratch the surface of their influence. That partial nature was, I think, my main complaint. Ending on a cliffhanger is one thing, yet this feels like almost nothing of significance has been resolved. For example, we barely know anything about Newt, the employee who freed her, or why he vanished from the apartment.

To be frank, it’s all a bit less than satisfying. I was left with the impression that the story was just about to get going, when I turned the (virtual) page to see “End of Book 1”. It feels like it wouldn’t be too hard to skip this entirely, start with the second part, and get to the meat of the action. This probably involves Diya realizing her true potential, working out what happened to Newt, and (if my instincts regarding the usual approach in this kind of thing, are in any way accurate) taking the fight to NeuroDyne. I think I am fine just figuring out the rest of the story on my own.

Author: Cameron Coral
Publisher: Independently published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 3 in the Cyborg Guardian Chronicles series.

Dune Drifter

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★★
“Any similarities are purely coincidental. “

This is likely an admirable effort in terms of its budget. The IMDb estimates it costs $100,000 and it looks like Price squeezed every cent – or, since it’s British, penny – out of that. To give you some idea, also per the IMDb, “Sections of the film were shot during the Covid-19 United Kingdom lockdown with just the occupants of the director’s flat. The director’s girlfriend doubled for any actors and WhatsApp voice notes from cast members were used for any extra lines of dialogue.” This is the kind of thing that can only be respected. Which is why I feel a little bad about having to give this an underwhelming review, because… truth be told, it’s kinda boring. 

It takes place in a future where Earth is at war with an alien race, the Drekk. A platoon of two-man fighter craft are on their way to the planet of Erebus. However, they emerge from hyperspace into the middle of a battle. The ship, crewed by Yaren (Aitkens) and Adler (Sparrow), is damaged and forced to crash land on the planet’s surface. Yaren is badly hurt in the process, and to make matters worse, they are not the only craft which had to make an impromptu descent. There are a number of Drekk present in the area as well, posing an additional problem as Adler tries to attract help and, when that fails, locate the necessary parts to repair her ship and let it take off for home.

This sounds rather more interesting than the reality, which involves a lot of Adler wandering around, talking to herself. She occasionally encounters Drekk – though never more than one, and I’ve a strong suspicion they were all the same actor (Dwyer-Thomas). They’re not particularly alien either, that notion hardly enhanced by the Drekk sporting what look uncannily like army surplus gas-masks. The most effectively unearthly element may be Erebus, whose part is played very impressively by the black rock landscapes of Iceland, where the film spent a week shooting. But I think things take too long to land on the surface. There’s an excessive amount of chit-chat between the ships on the way to their destination, none of which is relevant to the meat of the story. 

Despite its setting on an alien planet, the title isn’t an attempt at a Dune knockoff, unlike the previously reviewed Planet Dune. Indeed, Price regrets using the name, precisely for that reason. Other moments provoke some eye-rolling: the Drekk exhibit stormtrooper like accuracy, while it’s nice to know that future spaceships appear to run on Linux circa 2012, and can use spare parts from craft belonging to alien races. Lacking any sense of escalation, the story doesn’t so much reach a climax as just end. While Sparrow portrays the heroine with a no-nonsense approach, prepared to do whatever is necessary to survive, a good attitude can only take a movie so far. The budget here is less an issue than the script.

Dir: Marc Price
Star: Phoebe Sparrow, Daisy Aitkens, Simon Dwyer-Thomas, Alistair Kirton