There's something very important attached to modern, well-crafted space-opera. It's not precisely the way new and old tech drives the boundaries of plot, nor is it the very common feel of jaded semi-immortals gripping onto their lives in fascist drama. It's something hidden, an underlay of expectations that successfully build so much momentum that the text screams like a runaway train and it doesn't matter how much inane and crazy plot-twists crop up, because you're just left holding on to the ride. 
 Don't get me wrong, this novel wasn't particularly fast paced, but it did maintain a solid clip. I found myself somewhat rooting for the other trying to take over his mind long before the twists made it super plausible as well as inevitable. The only real issue I wanted to make was in the person he had originally began as, since there just wasn't enough presence or emotional immediacy, despite the whole reason for the multiple revenge scenarios. That persona was already lost by the time he knew it was lost, and so there wasn't any immediacy or consequence to it, and I thought that might have been a great opportunity to turn a good book into a good gut-wrenching book. 
 I thought it was quite fun, and I think I'll be recommending Mr. Reynolds widely.