In Yume Kitasei’s The Deep Sky, several crew members have just died in a tragic explosion, and the remaining members of a spacecraft traveling in space’s deep expanse are tasked with approaching a growing concern—was it a murder?
The novel focuses on Asuka, one of just eighty people chosen for the international EvenStar project. It’s goal? To launch highly capable crewmembers into space, in hopes of finding another livable planet and giving birth to a new generation to continue Earth’s legacy. Asuka, however, is haunted by her past: she has a fractured relationship with her mother, as well as an equally tenuous connection to her identity as a Japanese American woman. She and the others on board survived the highly selective process for being chosen as representatives of their countries; for Asuka, she is chosen for Japan. But when several people she’s known for years suddenly lose their lives in an explosion, suspicions quickly rise on whether someone may have orchestrated the incident.
What follows is a compelling sci-fi mystery as Asuka tries to puzzle out her comrades’ possible motivations for committing murder. At the same time, the AI companion on board begins acting strangely, and with every new detail of the case Asuka discovers, a new twist appears, further tangling the thread.
The Deep Sky excels best when combining its whodunnit backdrop with the humanizing portrayal of its troubled protagonist. As readers learn why Asuka’s connection to her mother is so estranged, Kitasei consistently does an excellent job of portraying Asuka’s pain as she internally battles with conflicting emotions of anger and love, with a desperate yearning to feel free while still wanting the best for her mother.
The pieces of Asuka’s life are told in a constant, back-and-forth jump between the present time of the murder investigation and the past time of Asuka’s years attending the academy that selected her and her crewmates. This narrative decision was a bit of a hit-or-miss. At first, they are insightful looks into a young teenager’s psyche as she feels untethered, but hopeful that the space mission she’s signed up for will give her the purpose she’s looking for. As the novel continues to jump back into her school days, they quickly begin feeling repetitive. This feeling is exacerbated as the present day plot becomes more engrossing and mysterious — getting consistently snapped out of the action left for a deflating feeling.
Another portion of the novel that sticks out is the interesting, if a little underdeveloped, worldbuilding. Most characters beyond Asuka herself are given a clear intention for their role in the story, but little to differentiate them or make them memorable. We know why Asuka left and how she feels about her past, her present, and her thoughts on the future, but we get little peaks into the interiority of the rest of the cast.
The representation of the countries the crewmembers have been chosen for also feel rather surface level, and it could have been a great opportunity to explore how several countries, particularly non-superpowers, have been grappling with the volatile events happening around the globe, and what the EvenStar project could have meant for them.
One of the stronger themes that sticks upon finishing The Deep Sky is its reflection on exceptionalism. In the end, less than a hundred people were chosen to spearhead the future, and Asuka grapples with insecurity throughout the process, as she often doubts if she’s good enough.
In the end, the idea is brought up whether any of them deserve to have been chosen, when countless others on the planet are just as skilled, brilliant, and resourceful. Which leaves the question: if the crew do end up finding a new planet to begin a new generation, will the world they make still champion the idea that some deserve to be above the rest? We can only hope that any future generation of Earth sees the value in trust, acceptance, forgiveness, and community—beliefs that help Asuka as she charges into the unknown.
