“And the rest? Jellit says. Are you going to tell him about smuggling out the data you’ve gathered? Tell him how you broke off a piece of yourself and hid it in someone who was shipping out? Tell him that as soon as it’s in range of your buddies on the other side, it’s going to pop like a hand grenade? Go ahead, tell him that your mission is about to kill another one of his friends. See how much he loves you for it. We’ll watch.”

The simile comparing the “piece” of itself that the swarm planted in a human to “a hand grenade” foreshadows the revelation of the cyst and Rickar’s sacrifice, which provides vital information to the Carryx’s enemies near the end of the novel. Jellit’s consciousness employs a series of rhetorical questions that express his reproach of the swarm’s lethal, deceptive measures. This recrimination helps explain its reluctance to reveal the truth of its identity to Dafyd.

“To Campar, the beast was less a living thing and more a weapon. Its sharp feet ticked against the deck, and it was the sound of murders Campar had seen and smelled and cleaned the bodies up after. If the Sinen had pressed a gun to his head, he would have felt less threatened.”

Polysyndeton is the stylistic addition of coordinating conjunctions where none are grammatically necessary. In this excerpt, the repetition of “and” in the phrase “seen and smelled and cleaned the bodies up after” emphasizes that Campar has witnessed Rak-hunds killing firsthand. The figurative language that likens the blade-legged creature to “a weapon” and calls it more threatening than a “gun pressed to his head” underscores the visceral fear that the alien beings inspire in humans. This offers a stark, suspenseful portrait of the violent oppression the captive humans face.

“The evening sun was setting, and the sky that reached up above the Carryx world-palace was a symphony of gray and gold, peach and blue. Far away, almost at the horizon, a thunderhead rose up, its crown still white as popcorn and its base as black as a bruise.”

The authors provide visual imagery through the colors “gray and gold, peach and blue.” The natural beauty of the sunset offers a moment of calm amid the strain of Dafyd’s responsibilities. The similes likening the colors of the storm on the alien world to ordinary things like “popcorn” and “a bruise” signal the characters’ longing for familiarity amid the strangeness of their confinement.

“An incomprehensible thing happened that involved the color blue, and then the battleship was shaking like a rat in a terrier’s teeth.”

The simile comparing the battleship to “a rat in a terrier's teeth” captures the ship’s violent shaking. At the same time, diction like the adjective “incomprehensible” conveys Rickar’s disorientation and adds to the battle scene’s suspense.

“We’re oak leaves in autumn, going where the wind blows us. We’re going to live out whatever time we have in whatever fucking box they decide to put us in. And when we die, that won’t mean anything either.”

The metaphor comparing the human captives to “oak leaves in autumn, going where the wind blows [them]” reveals the depth of Rickar’s hopelessness in the human moiety’s powerlessness over their situation. The repetition created by the subject “We’re” emphasizes this sense of futility. The passage illustrates the despair that Dafyd must fight within himself and within his people if he’s to help them survive their captivity, let alone resist their oppressors.

“The other Soft Lothark jumped in, trying to bend the Rak-hund back off its bleeding companion. The Rak-hund shrieked like a tortured cat, the sound chittered and ripped.”

The authors’ diction in verb choices like “shrieked” and “chittered” uses sound to convey the violence of the Soft Lotharks’ and Rak-hund’s fight to the death. The simile likening the Rak-hund’s cry to that of “a tortured cat” further emphasizes the scene’s brutality and the fear that Dafyd feels as he watches it unfold.

“Shock, he realized. He was moving through shock. Minds are something that bodies do. They’re not just connected, they’re different ways of looking at the same damn thing. Who had told him that? It seemed like something he should know, but he couldn't remember…”

The repetition of the word “shock” and the ellipsis at the end of the passage convey Dafyd’s altered state of mind after Tonner is killed in front of him and he narrowly escapes sharing the scientist’s fate. His mind’s instinctive efforts to protect him from facing these traumatic events add psychological realism despite the otherworldly nature of the science-fiction piece.

“There is no war with the Carryx. War is what they are. Enslavement is what they are. A state with no conflict is incomprehensible. Before the deathless enemy arrived, there was war. When the deathless die, there will be war. But the deathless never die. War will never end. We will be here in its mouth forever.”

The frequent repetition of the word “war” and the use of parallel sentences, such as in the sentences that equate the Carryx with “war” and “enslavement,” help to convey the terrible odds against the Deep Lothark’s secret resistance. In addition, the metaphorical language that depicts war as a beast and the captives as being trapped “in its mouth forever” reveal the Deep Lothark’s belief that their millennia-long efforts are doomed, adding to the suspense around the humans’ resistance.

“‘We must hurry. The cutting torches are this way. Follow, useful appendages!’ 

‘What about vacuum sheaths?’ Ghati asked. 

‘Oh. Yes,’ Vaudai said. And then, almost plaintively, ‘Will you feel excessive discomfort without them?’ 

‘We will expire, and be less useful as appendages,’ Campar replied.”

Vaudai’s slighting description of the humans as “useful appendages” and Campar’s wry response to the alien’s question provide comic relief between tense scenes of battles and secret resistance movements. The bond between Vaudai and the two humans is a rare example of friendship between the different species captured by the Carryx, proving that the captives can develop solidarity in the midst of their brutal enslavement.

“All through history, people had made leaps of faith in the universe, remade themselves and their lives in ways that couldn’t be undone. Many of those lives had been rich and beautiful and strange, and hers could be too.”

The repetition of “and” in the list of adjectives in the second sentence creates polysyndeton that emphasizes the possibilities that might await Jessyn if she leaves “World” with Garral. Her belief that she could create a life that’s “rich and beautiful and strange” adds weight to the sacrifice she makes by choosing to return to the world-palace and share vital information with Dafyd instead of seeking escape for herself.

“The animals of the planet—the advanced ones, the ones who were of import to the deathless enemy—would hear the field weapons like a footstep in the dark. Because they heard, they would look, because they looked, they would see, and because they saw they would scream out in fear and anguish, begging their protectors for aid. It was the screaming that the Carryx required.”

The repetition of clauses starting with “begin” gives the passage a sense of rhythm and creates a chain of cause and effect that portrays the Carryx’s victory as an inevitability. The authors’ diction (“anguish,” “screaming) highlights the deliberate cruelty of the empire’s methods.

“He imagined the billions of pairs of eyes looking up at him as he looked down at them. He didn’t want to remember the wonder and the fear that he’d felt, but the past insisted. It took a few seconds to see what Dervan was talking about, but there at the northern point of the sleeping world there was a little wisp of color that shifted coral to pink to green to gold. It danced like an aurora, gaining strength as it spread.”

The simile comparing the weapon to “an aurora” and the visual imagery of how its light changes from “coral to pink to green to gold” juxtapose the weapon’s beauty with the destruction it unleashes. This contrast and Rickar’s knowledge that there are “billions” of people on the planet intensify the horrors of the genocide that the Carryx carry out.

“The crowd, thinner than it had been for the ceremony, parted before him like sheep moving away from a wolf. He passed through the archway and into the corridors that led back to his cell, his garden, the rooms of his captivity within the captivity.”

The simile comparing the crowd’s avoidance of Dafyd to “sheep moving away from a wolf” shows how the protagonist has become a pariah among the human moiety due to the measures he’s taken to safeguard their survival. This passage offers a clear example of The Moral Cost of Leadership, and the repetition of the phrase “his captivity within the captivity” expresses how his isolation from his fellow humans worsens his predicament.

“Instead, Campar took Ghati’s shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. Ghati wrapped his arms around Campar’s chest, holding on to him like he was the last buoy in a stormy ocean.”

The authors use a simile to compare Campar to “the last buoy in a stormy ocean.” This figurative language demonstrates how the novel’s focal characters retain the things that make them human, especially love, in the face of the overwhelming dangers and hardships they face.

“The lights were pleasant and warm to a human eye. But the people who’d lived and worked in this space were dead and gone. The lives they’d led were ended, and he was here, no more special than they had been. No better protected. No more promised another day than they had been. But alive. He was alive.”

The repetition of “no more” adds a note of humility and sorrow to Campar’s inner monologue as he surveys the ship’s wreckage. The repetition of “alive” in the last two sentences reveals how the tragic loss of life he’s witnessed leads him to a greater awareness and appreciation of his own existence.

“In the heart of the Carryx ship, Void Dragons woke and remade the nature of space, narrowing the degrees of freedom with which the enemy could travel. A few enemy ships set up fields to counter them that caused the Void Dragons to screech their distress like claws across the subjugator-librarian’s mind.”

The authors create intrigue by describing a battle scene in which the laws of physics become malleable. The invocation of a fantasy creature, dragons, and the onomatopoeia “screech” intensifies the surreal, suspenseful nature of the passage.

“The new human habitat was twice as far as his old room had been, and he made the trip like a commuter coming home from work. The air was alive with voices from a hundred different kinds of throat, and the smell was heavy with all the richness like too much spice. The wide tunnels with their strange, bright tile work were filled with Carryx and Soft Lothark and Rak-hund and a dozen other species from a dozen other worlds.”

The auditory imagery of “voices from a hundred different kinds of throat” and the olfactory imagery of “richness like too much spice” show how Dafyd’s human senses are bombarded by the crowded environment of the world-palace, and the repetition of “and” in the list of species in the last sentence adds to the bustling mood. At the same time, the passage opens with a simile comparing Dafyd to “a commuter coming home from work,” revealing how these extraordinary surroundings have become commonplace for the main character.

“‘The elite exist on the shoulders of the unremarkable,’ she said. ‘Everyone here had a staff back on Anjiin. Everyone had someone else who was doing their laundry for them and making their food. Maybe a professional, maybe a lover or a spouse or an assistant. Their kids. Their research assistants.’”

Tomos’s remark about how the “elite” who were spared by the Carryx depended on the labor of “unremarkable” humans who were killed by the alien invaders provides social commentary. This reveals that The Moral Cost of Leadership that Dafyd wrestles with is something intrinsic to all human hierarchies. Tomos uses this discussion of humans’ social structure to emphasize the importance of adapting to survive, demonstrating her importance as a source of wisdom for the protagonist.

“Where once she had been a secret sharer of his life and experience, now becoming him felt like putting on his corpse as a costume. Even when she wanted to go back, she couldn’t.”

The grim figurative language comparing Jellit’s “corpse” to “a costume” reveals the swarm’s growing unease with taking hosts. In addition, the use of the pronoun “she” to refer to the swarm rather than “it” highlights the swarm’s emerging sense of an identity distinct from the consciousnesses that the being has absorbed.

“Dafyd didn’t have a name for the emotion, but it started like a hand pressing gently against his throat and bloomed down into his chest. It reminded him of being at a zoological park as a child and locking eyes with a full-grown lion for the first time. He would have called it fear, except there was something more with it. Something wide and wild and as awe-inducing as the stars.”

The polysyndeton in the phrase “wide and wild and […] awe-inducing” emphasizes Dafyd’s complex reaction to the swarm. The simile comparing the swarm to a lion creates a sense of majesty and danger, and the passage’s tense tone reveals that a connection between the two characters lingers despite the significant changes they’ve both undergone over the course of the novel.

“Eventually, they might decide to track which chromosome had come from which unwilling donor, but even that would be a life shaped unlike the norm had been for the generations before. It was the price he paid to keep the executioner’s axe off their collective necks a little bit longer.”

The metaphorical language of “the executioner’s axe” on humanity’s “collective necks” speaks to the urgent stakes of Dafyd’s decision to grow children in lamb sacks despite the ethical problems this raises. The figurative language contributes to the story’s suspense as well as The Moral Cost of Leadership that defines Dafyd’s characterization.

“‘You’re out of your mind,’ Brun shouted. ‘You’re deranged.’ There were flecks of white at the corners of the man’s mouth. His eyes were wide. When he tried to struggle, the Soft Lothark held him in place. ‘No,’ Brun shrieked. ‘Please no! You don’t have to do this!’”

The visual imagery of the “white” flecks around Brun’s mouth and verb choices like “struggle” and “shrieked” convey his terror and desperation. The grim scene underscores how Dafyd has changed and the brutal measures he takes to preserve the moiety’s survival.

“‘I think I love you,’ Ghati said. ‘I really think I do. But this connection? It’s not something we should try to hold on to.’ 

‘Why not?’ 

‘Because we can’t hold on to things. Because there is so much happening now that we don’t influence, much less control. I just think it would be better if we were more like water. Let the universe tell us what shape it needs us to be, and be that. Change when the universe changes.’”

The anaphora created by the repetition of “Because” creates a sense of rhythm that supports the logic of Ghati’s argument. The simile with which he urges Campar to become “like water” that “[c]hange[s] when the universe changes” illustrates the novel’s argument about The Erosion of Identity as the Price of Survival. By choosing to sacrifice one of the most important aspects of his identity, his relationship with his lover, Ghati demonstrates his acceptance of this message.