The child Bridger is the least interesting character in the book.
Mycroft Canner spends the entire novel trying to convince me that the "miracle child" is real, and it's not that I don't believe it —
It's just —
In this world people fly around the globe anytime the whim strikes them, live on the Moon, terraform Mars, keep genetically-engineered pterodactyls as pets, prune the brains of 8-year-old children so their synapses become one with computer software, fall in love with animated dolls and, not least, comb through DNA databases to create "perfect" humans to run the world —
A 13-year-old's ability to bring toy soldiers to life doesn't seem more miraculous than these other wonders. It does not seem to me the one thing, of all these things, which proves that God exists.
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