The success of The X-Files has made supernatural mysteries a hot topic, a fact not lost on the publishers of The Radon File, who have packaged the book to suggest supernatural adventure with just a touch of alien conspiracy.
Unfortunately, the packaging is the best part of the book.
Ty Merrick is a marshal afflicted with a possibly supernatural disease she calls lycanthropy. Its exact effects are a mystery, although it seems to cause mood swings, amnesiac blackouts, and even shifts in her musculature. Merrick thinks it's the wolf inside of her getting out, but given the vague effects she might simply be getting in touch with her inner predator.
In The Radon File, the fifth in a series by Denise Vitola, Merrick investigates the death of Bernard Horn, a second-rate opera singer killed with a spinal tap. The usual array of suspects and motives emerge and, thanks to the book's SF setting, they are on the whole a bit more outre than usual.
For example, Horn might have been killed by agents of Vitola's repressive near-future government, by the revolutionaries attempting to overthrow it, by UFO cultists, or even by the weird little aliens everyone claims to be seeing.
Despite all this room for thrills and intrigue, it's almost impossible to care who actually did the deed.
Dystopia gone to extremes
To be blunt, Vitola has succeeded in creating a world so completely lacking in redeeming qualities that it's a trial just to hear about it. Even for a dystopia, the gloom is a bit much, and I found myself almost longing for the relative cheer of "Soylent Green". Life was just as messed up in that movie as it is in The Radon File, but at least there you could listen to music and watch pretty pictures while you died.
Most dystopic writers also have the sense to focus on a sympathetic character. Orwell's 1984 made Winston Smith out to be a nice guy at heart. Watchmen balanced the psychotic Rorschach with the very decent Nite Owl. Even Rick Deckard -- secret replicant or not -- tried to stay in touch with his feelings.
There's no such character here. Merrick and her partner are burned-out thugs who steal the possessions of murder victims and beat up anyone who doesn't immediately cooperate with them. Beyond their "lycanthropic" posing, they're animals, barking and snapping at the world around them, and they don't really care who knows it.
The brutish detectives
They're not very bright, either. Cop characters aren't usually as deductive as other mystery protagonists, but these two just wander from scene to scene. There's rarely any sign that their understanding of what happened to Horn is increasing, or that they're developing theories based on the evidence they gather. They just find someone to interview, beat him up, get another name, and go on to the next beating.
Amazingly, the one time they don't simply beat the information they want out of somebody is when they create an opportunity to grab the killer. Even then, they hesitate, instead following him through a carnival crowd in an attempt to learn more, but he promptly vanishes. Is this a hallmark of good detective work or, for that matter, a good mystery?
Alien-hungry readers will be especially disappointed when they learn that the supposed "extraterrestrials" are a red herring. Vitola spends many pages discussing them, but they ultimately have almost nothing to do with the plot.
If the book were entertaining, I could ignore many of these problems, but it isn't. Hints of an interesting meditation on superstition and the modern urge to believe in aliens are present, but they're buried under the dank setting, the unappealing characters, and the near-complete lack of action.
The only compelling mystery about The Radon File is how this lackluster series has managed to survive through five books.
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