Another point of clarification. I picked up this book, mistaking it to be one regaling the readers with the unsightly exploits of the newest generation of entitled princelings, who get into trouble and use their daddy’s name to get out of trouble.

Instead, we mostly focus on the OG princelings, the ones who got power in the 80s after the dust settled on Mao’s cultural revolution. Which level the party and the nation in a precarious situation. That particular number was orchestrated by Mao, who at that point had devolved fully into a psychotic megalomaniac, to wait for it, wipe out his political rivals and anyone who might challenge his rule. The more you read, the more you realize that chinese history under the ccp, is the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing, over and over, through the ages, expecting a different outcome.

You know, I consider it to be one of the worst travesties of history, that Mao managed to achieve something that Hitler and Stalin never could; to not be reviled for his atrocious, inhumane actions. Despite numerically being the dictator who caused the most deaths, beating even his ‘peers’ and Genghis Khan. Hitler has become a name so reviled no one names their children that. Stalin comes close second (despite several communist in my home state thinking it to be a swell name for their children).

But Mao is revered as the great leader and continues to indoctrinate the minds of millions of chinese youths. Truly repulsive.

End of Rant.

The multigenerational rule by this authoritarian regime, as well as the countless atrocities that it has wrought, has resulted in a society that has by and large become morally bankrupt and indifferent to basic human suffering.

One where, when tragedy strikes, the so-called authorities are more concerned with covering up the news, to hide its true extent, rather than assist the victims and their families.

One where human life is worth less than rubble, to be written off if it doesn’t besmirch the country’s hollow honor.

One where vile human trait such as greed and hunger for power are promoted, while decent values such as empathy and kindness are ruthlessly suppressed and vilified. As evidenced by the slew of social reformers, activists and advocates for democracy who’re incarcerated or had to flee due to persecution.

It’s a fascinating read, but also quite revulsive.

Other than that, there is not much to say about the book. While somewhat outdated, it does provide a solid base for one to get started with the convoluted world of eternal power struggle and internal factionalism. Take a gander if you don’t mind the esoteric prose.

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Summary

Commissar Caiphas Cain, hero of the Imperium, returns; this time to face the vile heretics who worship the ruinous powers of chaos. Assigned to the Imperial planet Adumbria, with no gravitational spin, and thus each hemisphere is stagnant in its orientation. Where one side is always facing the sun and is scorched, but habitable. While the side, facing the darkness of space, is perpetual Winterland.

The caveat being, a narrow stretch of land in between, in the equatorial region, called the shadow belt, where the climate is barely habitable, and where most of the populace resides. It’s quite a unique geography this planet has, reminiscent of some of the wackier islands from One piece. I bet there is some point in the shadow belt, some mountain, where you could stand on, and see the contrasting land masses; the desert on one hand, and a frozen tundra on the other.

Suspected heretical activity in the planet, leads to Cain and his ever-trusted aide Jurgen, not to mention his faithful Valhallan 597th regimen to make themselves busy, investigating the possible threat, and fortifying themselves against any possible traitor incursions from space.

Spoilers follow…

Over the course of which he, (Spoiler) takes down quite a few chaos cults, not one, but two traitor marines of the Word bearer legion, and not to mention a newly ascended human turned Slaaneshi daemon: ‘single-handedly’, with help from a whole bunch of Valhallans and his trusty aide Jurgen. Though I doubt the latter part would make for the legends of the hero of the Imperium.

Personally, I found ‘The Traitor’s Hand’ to be more engaging than the previous book, ‘The Caves of Ice’. You get much more gags, comical misunderstandings, and more instances of Paradoxical heroism, which make Cain such an engaging character to follow.

Also on display, are his immensely personable nature, a rarity amongst commissars, his rapport with the Valhallan Regiment, his gifted tactical mind, astute deductions when unraveling mysteries, not in the least the ungodly amount of luck which in his case, is a double-edged sword. His perilous fortune often makes day to day happenings go in his favor. But like a karmic balance, in turn puts him front and center when shit hits the fan, and then turns all the way back, giving him regular deus ex machina to get out of that jam. Truly something hilarious to observe.

Someone who finds himself on the other side of Cain’s phenomenal luck, is Tomas Beije, fellow Commissar, and a jealous rival, who is constantly consternated with Cain’s popularity and achievements. Trying his level best, to be a fly in the ointment, to undermine Cain at every possible juncture; often with hilarious blowback.

Characters & their interaction

What the story does exceptionally well, is developing several of the supporting characters, some of whom were introduced back in Book 1. In particular, Cain’s rapport with members of his regiment, from the top leaders Colonel Katheen, Major Broklaw, all the way to the rank-and-file troopers, many of whom idolize him to a pathological decree. Especially future General Sulla, who seems to have a bit of hero worship which comes to the Commissar, while being oblivious to how irritating said hero finds her reckless tactics.

Then there is the ever-present, taciturn, capable aide and right-hand man to the Commissar, Ferik Jurgen. His loyalty to Cain is unquestioned, and is always ready as his shadow, whether it be to deal with day-to-day paperwork, or to save his skin for the 10th time with his trusty Melta, and his concealed ability of being a blank.

It is said that the measure of a person can be gauged based on how they treat those below them. Cain has immense power over Jurgen, partly due to being his superior, and partly because Jurgen is quite literal-minded. A trait desirable for a soldier, but not when it comes to social interactions. There is also his, (quite literal, no insult intended) ungodly odor, which makes most people uncomfortable in his presence. Now, this may just be a manifestation of his effect as a blank, but this does tend to leave Jurgen with few friends.

Despite him asserting to keep Jurgen around for his usefulness, through the stories, we can see how Cain treats Jurgen well and doesn’t outwardly insult or treat him with revulsion. He is keenly aware of how valuable Jurgen’s loyalty is and treats it with respect. It’s some of the small things really, how Cain thanks Jurgen each time he brings the commissar his preferred drink, or when he shares his nightmares with the aide, without having to put up a front.

As well as some of the body language he exhibited when interacting with the Valhallens in general. Cain accepts constructive feedback, and in turn his soldiers defer to his skills and expertise. There is trust there, one which runs both ways.

Negatives and Criticism

For the most part, I understand the encounters and plot serve as backdrops for building the ‘hero of the imperium’. And this is Warhammer 40000 we’re talking about. Almost every story is a war or invasion of some kind. Nonetheless, some variety would be appreciated. Seeing as how there are like 6-7 or more entries in this series, I’m really hoping there is something more as the legend progresses.

This didn’t of course reduce my enjoyment as I was chewing through pages trying to reach the end though. So, the reading value is there; but it could be improved.



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Unfortunately for Krieg, everything from their day-to-day life, survival, conduct and battlefield tactics were shaped, in part due to their hostile planet, and in part their hatred.

You would often see online in meme circles, how the Krieg armies are renowned for two things: their unparalleled siege tactics, and their suicidal charges with utter disregards to their own life. The latter is partially true.

Yes, the Krieg regiments on average have a disturbingly high number of casualties and turnover. And yes, they see their lives as ultimately expendable in service to the emperor. But that doesn’t exactly make them suicidal.

The soldiers of Krieg are pragmatic, disciplined and with an unhealthy amount of fatalism. They view themselves as tools, no different from the guns they carry or the bullets within them. Resources to be spent for the glory of the Emperor. So, in the battlefield, their commanders always formulate how most efficiently their human resources can be expended to defeat the enemy.

If a particularly tough enemy can be defeated by sacrificing 1000 of their rank, they would do so, no question, no fear, no doubt. For each of them know, by expanding those 1000 lives, they might be saving many more. On the other hand, if the same enemy can be defeated using just 500 soldiers, by incorporating a different, more efficient tactic, they would prefer that. For the lives of a Krieg soldier is a resource to be consumed, not to be merely wasted. But if the objectives require that tens of thousands of them need to be sacrificed in what is ultimately a failed suicide charges, that too would be acceptable for them.

Whatever humanity and empathy they have, is either wiped out, or suppressed deep within their psyche, after generations of indoctrination. And what you’re left with, are an army full of unfeeling, uncaring, unerring machines like soldiers, who tank losses like nobody’s business, and whose ferocity in attack is enough to give pause to even the conflict loving Orks.

This story, Krieg, by Steve Lyons, explores in essence this dehumanization of arguably normal people, shaped through collective trauma, suffering and war, into entities whose only purpose is war and glorious death. And Lyons, with this and his previous short story, ‘Down Amongst the Dead Men’ has showcased he has a deft handle in exploring this particular form of fatalism endemic to Krieg.

The narrative is split into two time periods. One set during the golden period of Krieg, where treachery and sedition laid the ground for what would be the ultimate fate of the planet. And another set after the fall of Cadia, with the now ubiquitous Krieg regiments engaged in pitched battle across the deadliest battlefields across the galaxy. There are also appearances by the Cadian Shock troops and a couple of Inquisitors from the Ordo Hereticus. But their presence is largely as a proof for the audience into the functioning of your standard Krieg regimen.

Alternating each chapter, between the past and present narratives, we get a neat parallel to the decisions that shaped the people of the planet for the near future, as well as how they act and are perceived in the current era.

Or particular note, is the dramatization of Colonel Jurgen, the hero of Krieg, arguably the man who through his actions is single handedly responsible for how the people turned out; for better or worse. Even when you know the final outcome, seeing the story unfold through his eyes puts into perspective the weight and enormity of the decisions in face of insurmountable circumstances. Just from his narrative standpoint, the story might as well have been titled as ‘The Tragedy of Krieg’.

While largely sticking to the action format that the genre is famous for, the whole plot revolves around the Imperium trying to retake an Ork infested hive world, the setting serves as a backdrop almost, for a character study of Krieg as a whole.

It enlightens you in regard to the essence of their war doctrine, in fact their entire doctrine to life and death, while removing several misconceptions one might have about the group. For example, despite how they come across, with their gas masks, WWI era Prussian aesthetic, complete with pointy helmets, your average Krieg soldier is perfectly polite when it comes to dealing with their non-Krieg colleagues. They follow the rules, obey all orders, regardless of how dangerous, and even reply to your queries with courtesy. Just don’t ask them to remove their gas masks, which at this point have become like a second skin to them.

Little needs to be said in regard to their valor in battle. They don’t fear, don’t falter, never buckle under pressure, never dip in morale. And even at the cost of their collective lives, will complete the mission objective.

One fun tidbit, originating from anecdotes and lore, is in regard to their relationship with Imperial Commissars. You know, those Soviet inspired battlefield slave drivers, who give your average soldier a choice, death by enemy, or death by commissar. Well, in normal guard regiments, the attached Commissars job is to whip up morale, and to make sure your average rank and file charge with reckless abandon, against tyranids, chaos, orks, whatnot. But in Soviet Russia, I mean the Death Korps of Krieg, the Commissar gets shot for being not ruthless enough. Truly, they are there just to make sure that the morale of the Kriegsman is not too high, and also to reign them in, not to engage in suicidal charges.

The story shares this whole fatalistic ambience as if nothing that you do would amount to anything significant. But while to your average person, this can soon devolve into nihilism, for the soldiers of Kreig they just accept this as reality and do their duty. Sadly, this is not because of some stoic sense of peace, rather because they lack a particular sense of self, and to them, death, in line of duty is a forgone conclusion.

They represent a corrupted tragic iteration of what Lord Krishna told Arjuna. To perform your duty selflessly and righteously, without attachment to the results, and to trust in the divine will.



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You see, unlike other chaos warbands, the Night lords had not completely submitted to any one chaos god. While their members would individually succumb to one or the others, as a legion, they preferred to remain independent and do their own thing. This left them in the unique position, of not having any support base, either from the Imperium, or the ruinous powers. Which is a major background piece of lore, in their own trilogy of books, Night Lords by Aaron Dembski-Bowden. In case you haven’t read those, I suggest you do. They’re quite the ride.

Coming back to plot, a parallel between the Carcharodon and Night Lords are how both are sort of in exile; and as such, are in constant need of resources, material and human. The Night lords engage in piracy, and plunder imperial worlds and ships to scavenge. The space sharks address this Issue, with something called the Grey Tithe, and the Red Tithe. The latter of which is one of the main background focuses of the story.

This adds a layer of shade in their conduct, as despite being staunch loyalists (although no one much know of them), they top up their manpower and material requirements, in much the same way; only with a long-lost contract as their backing. This entails them to arrive at some backwater Imperial planet, and to requisition the entire populace of the planet, hundreds of thousands of souls, as future aspirants, as well as serfs, mostly slaves.

Which might seem like a terrible thing for the ‘good guys’ to be doing. But that’s only because you forgot what sort of story you’re reading. And here, the difference between the good and bad guys, is just how many degrees they’re removed from, when committing horrific deeds in the name of their own ideals. You get used to it.

Another aspect of note is the way in which they engage in battle. Unlike your standard loyalist or traitor marine, the Space Sharks believe in proper reconnaissance, combined with a fast decisive strike to decapitate their enemies, without suffering great casualties. Which might circle back to their bootstrap mentality and lack of resources. I mean, these guys are still using Heresy era armor and equipment, because they don’t have most of the tools of expertise in form of mechanicus support to properly upgrade them. This, similar to the Night lords’ story, adds a further level of danger in each mission which they embark on.

Fitting of their namesake, a Carcharodon engaging in battle doesn’t shout battle cries or show any emotion; In fact, they don’t make noise of any kind. Going for the whole silent hunter type of warfare. Which definitely makes them seem like the talented idiot savant cousins to your standard space marine.

Sadly, despite anticipation, we do not get an appearance from the Chapter master, the red wake himself. Guess I’ll have to read book 2 for that pleasure.

All in all, Book 1 in the Space Sharks series has left me with a lot of new lore points to ponder over, while leaving me thirsty for something more significant.

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In the grim darkness of 41st millennium, there is only war

Growing up in the theocratical dictatorship that is the Imperium, the life of the average person is barely better than a serf or slave. And that’s the lucky ones. The unlucky ones end up being literal slaves, lobotomized as man-machine hybrids to perform mundane tasks. Or be part of a servile population, where entire generations give birth and die within the filthy under hives of some hive city, or abroad the slave crew of some Imperial warship, or any other legion death worlds or hellscapes that make up the Imperium of Mankind.

These are the fates which are relatively better compared to others. Who have to face the constant onslaught of chaos incursions, Ork warbands, Tyranid swarms, Necron automatons, or…. the Drukhari, brrr nuff said.

So, contrary to common sense, the best place where a self-proclaimed coward and selfish asshole like Cain can be the safest is in the frontlines. Surrounded by an entire army’s worth of well-armed, well armored meat shields to keep him safe.

For you see, everyone’s beloved commissar has a secret superpower, a couple in fact. For one, he has, as one lore youtuber put it, the collective common sense of all humanity in the 40k setting. Now, remember how this is a setting where space faring armies, prefer to use pre-world war era surge tactics, and whose literal doctrine boils down to ‘if there is a problem, keep throwing bodies at it’. Where warfare is fought and won by emotions, and sheer soviet era human wave attrition, this is saying something.

So, having a good head on your shoulders, and having a healthy amount of common sense, makes you a literal demigod in this setting. Plus, in an effort to maintain the loyalty of his troops, and to make sure they don’t shoot him in the back during the thick of battle, Cain inadvertently treats them quite well. Which ironically, causes them to deify him, and be willing to give their very lives to save his.

His second superpower is his ungodly amounts of luck, which gets him out of borderline suicidal situations, due to happy coincidences or regular deus ex machinas. That’s right; Our man has weaponized plot armor. And almost everything that he does, ends up making him look like more of a hero, and works ultimately to his benefit.

But an aspect of his personality, which we are privy to, is how, despite calling himself a selfish coward, he regularly treats those troops he’s InCharge of with respect and goes to great lengths to protect them. Sure, he says that’s to make sure his meat shields are all well and good, but you only need to see the way he interacts with his aide and right-hand man, the taciturn and laconic Jurgen. Somehow who’s largely shunned by regular troops for his particular bodily disposition…. he stinks. (Which might be because of his status as a blank, as we later learn).

Cain treats Jurgen well as his right-hand man, and in turn Jurgen is fiercely loyal to the Commissar. This is a running theme.

These character traits, as well as the disparity between how Cain behaves externally versus what his contrary thought processes are what makes the relatively simple narrative a pleasure to read. (At least by 40k standards; I mean, there are no planet ending threats, genetically engineered super soldiers, barely a whiff of chaos).

The story is written in a manner reminiscent to Dune; wherein what we’re reading are essentially consolidated journal entries from the Commissar, following his retirement, compiled with his ‘special friend’, one Inquisitor Amberly Vail. Whose chemistry with the commissar on the pages is quite engaging to read.

I feel this was a good entry point to these series of books. Hoping to get to read more entertaining stories about the good Commissar’s happy adventures in the coming time.

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And when the end of civilization becomes apparent, the only ones will be fully stocked and furnished bunkers and lifeboats, all ready to create a new dystopian post-apocalyptic new world order. Think 2012, but with less CGI and a lot more suffering. 

On the other side of the spectrum, there are those who work 3 or more jobs, jumping through hoops just to keep food on the table. This is despite putting in a 120% effort, sincerity and not for want of skills or talent. For better or for worse, their starting point in life has them trapped in the rat race, with little to no chance of escape. 

Like the rest of the world, India is a land of two kinds of people. Those who never afford enough; and those who can never be satisfied with enough. But, in India, this disparity is further muddled and exacerbated by mixing in generations old rotten carcasses of racism, casteism and bigotry. 

Unless you’re the random few who were born into it, stole it, or married into it, these are the invisible shackles which keep you at the bottom of the pile of manure. Unseen but whose unfathomable weight is constantly felt. 

On completing the white tiger, one feels the uncanny parallels it has with the Korean movie parasite, by Bong Joon Ho. The talented and capable everyman, having to act as the servile willing slave to a privileged modern-day noble, whose wealth and accomplishments are largely superficial or non-existent. Whose fortune in life largely came from who they are born as, rather than actual effort. 

Even down to this ever-pervading stench of poverty, which clings to the ‘servants’, making their presence intolerable to the delicate sensibilities of the masters. 

How, despite the inhuman way they’re treated, both aspire to someday be the masters themselves, to in turn inhabit the skin and life of the rulers. 

Sidenote/ Rant: While writing, I came across the 2022 Paria disaster, which claimed the lives of 4 divers (Search: 2022 Caribbean diving disaster). In short, 5 divers of the Paria Fuel company got sucked into an oil pipeline. One managed to escape and begged the rescuers to save his team. They didn’t, and the 4 people died. 

You’d be forgiven to not have heard of this previously; seeing as how there is little to no coverage of what amounted to gross negligence and supposed greed, which caused the parent company to forego rescue 4 divers, writing them off as expendable. The heartbreaking part was how the 4 were still alive for almost 48 hours and could clearly be heard banging on the pipes desperate for rescue. The legal proceedings are still underway. 

Contrast this with another diving disaster from last year; Oceangate. Just that one word is enough to fill you in on the whole affair. There is a whole detailed Wikipedia page, not to mention the hundreds of videos online, farming for views explaining in minute detail as to what happened. Ironically, the wiki page for the 2022 Paria tragedy is all but a stub. Seems like, even in death, the rich get priority billing to mere plebeians. 

Anyway you look at it, we’ve become an ass backwards society; pardon my French. Now, back to the story. 

Synopsis

The plot of this story is simply put, a highly colored account of the duality of life, from the ‘uneducated’ as well as unsophisticated eyes of our protagonist, Balram Halwai, who can, generously be described as an unreliable narrator. 

Born into the world he refers to as ‘The darkness’ shackled by poverty, oppression and discrimination, Balram Halwai is smart enough to see how his miserable life will go. Decades of back breaking toil as a beast of burden for his large family, followed by a pitiable untimely death. Like his father, and his father before him. 

Confronted with this reality, he had two choices; to surrender to his destiny; or to break its yolk through any means. To do so, he had to throw away all useless and cumbersome emotions of love, attachment, morality and living a proper life. 

As Balram progresses through this dark, reflective journey of self-discovery, we get to be the backseat passengers of his story. Being introduced to the seedy underbelly of society; some facets quite familiar, while others novel and pitiable. 

There are things which we understand, but Balram, from his ‘backwards’ life doesn’t; and vice versa. Through him, we see this dance, one which has been played out over millennia, between those who have, and those who don’t. Between those who exploit, versus those who let themselves be. 

From the onset, it is made apparent, in this uncaring indifferent world, everyone is out to exploit you for their own benefit. Balram’s village is poor and underdeveloped, not because it lacks the resources. Rather, because everyone from the teachers at primary schools, to doctors in public hospitals, and everyone in between, are more interested in lining their pockets with public funds, rather than use it for the intended purpose; for improving the lives of people. 

Then of course there are the landlords and the politicians. Two sides of a perverted coin, with their own vested interests, best served by keeping the masses downtrodden and suffering. Who fatten off the land, much like the pigs from Animal farm, while the rest, the servile livestock, are left to starve, squabbling for the few scraps that manage to find their way down the pile. Any nails that stand out, with lofty notions of progress or freedom, are ruthlessly hammered down, sometimes in the literal sense. 

In order to escape this vicious cycle of poverty and exploitation, Balram must be willing to discard his humanity and empathy; for these will only weigh him down; and are not traits shared by his oppressors. 

His master, the ‘Stork’, under whom Balram initially finds employment, is an enduring vestige of a bygone time, where conditions were even more deplorable. When, the very life and death of the servile class, were under the whims of the rulers. Who treats him no better than a slave. The only difference is that this slave is not shackled by chains of iron. Rather by those of family; under threat of complete annihilation. 

The stork’s sons, the eldest ‘Mongoose’, is a carbon copy of his father, down to how he abuses those beneath him. The youngest ‘Mr. Ashok’, is the US educated golden child, is a white man in all but skin. Who carries lofty notions of enlightened sensibilities, who considers himself of a modern breed, and ‘better’ than the backward notions of his family members. 

And to an extent, he is kinder to his servants, especially Balram, who is an all in all driver/cook/butler to Ashok. But this kindness and benevolence, nonetheless, comes from a position of privilege. As a master that treats their servant kindly, look how great they are. At the end of the day, this kindness is worth less than a bucket of sand in a desert. 

We come to this realization much at the same time as Balram. At one point, he is almost exploited to take the rap for Mrs. Ashok, who ran over a street urchin, in a bout of drunken driving. Hardwork and loyalty, would, in the best-case scenario, earn him an early retirement, with a broken body and soul; to let his children continue the line of servitude. Balram chose to take the road less traveled. While his actions are not entirely justifiable, they’re understandable. 

The writing

Mr. Adiga’s writing has a particular wit about it, the kind you’re used to seeing in the pages of R.K. Lakshman. His observations, through the eyes of Balram, in regard to the system of exploitation and oppression, where the poor stay poor, even as the rich soar new horizons, it’s a mixed bag. Some are what you’re used to seeing, in any satire piece; the corrupt power-hungry politicians, colluding with the rich, to make the lives of the common man a constant toil. 

Others, such as the nurtured darkness in those who grew up in the darkness, are more nuanced. Balram grew up a bright child, with a fair prospect at better education, employment, and upliftment for his family from the quagmire of society. 

Instead, his family are more concerned with immediate gains, sealing off any possibilities of a bright future, pushing him off to the life of a waste cleaner in some seedy eatery. As, to them, the tangible benefit of meager employment, outweighed any long-term gratification. His family, his large, extended, cumbersome family, which turned to him as one would to a fattened cow, were another shackle which Balram needed to throw off, to resurrect himself from the darkness, to be more human. 

Make no mistake, our protagonist is one who doesn’t give a flying hoot about doing the right thing, or the sanctity of human life. Like a dispassionate merchant, he weighs the pros and cons of every decision, on how it would affect him, and him alone. If the outcome is advantageous to him, but horrific to others, even if those others are his family, he’s willing to take the gamble; with little to no feelings of guilt or remorse. 

In learning to emulate the indifference, and inhumanity of his masters, Balram was able to become an existence closer to them. A step closer towards the one who is exploited, rather than the ones that suffer. 

Despite all the clever entendres and satirical quips, nonetheless, I felt that the last act of this book was rushed, and largely predictable. From the events set up during the first act, you wait for the moment for the other shoe to drop, to reveal some new darker facet of this pungent ocean of social satire that we’re enduring. But the climax was largely anticlimactic; and left more unanswered questions than one would be comfortable with.