Sunday, 11 December 2016

Horus Heresy: Master of Mankind by Aaron Dembski-Bowden (Book Review)

Master of Mankind's greatest strengths and failings come down to its author. Yes, that's an obvious statement and true of every book, but it's a point which is truly exemplified here. 

What the novel offers readers is a glimpse into the raging war throughout the beginnings of the Imperial Webway, a look into the Custodian Guard, and even an examination of the Emperor himself. Even without the Titan battles, the Mechanicus storylines and flashbacks to past eras, all of these are weighty events which could have crushed a weaker narrative or less skilled author.  The fact he was able to keep each of them balanced against one another, with each narrative thread remaining distinct and without clashing against others, is a testament to Aaron Dembski-Bowden's skill as a writer. Few could have managed to examine them in such a fascinating light either, or given them the sense of grandeur they required to press home their importance. 

That said, and there is a "but" here, as much as it amplifies his strengths it amplifies a few irritating points of his writing. Especially writing set in this universe. We'll get to that later on though.

The Good:

To start with the positive points, as expected the story has a very narrow and concise focus placed upon the war in the Webway. This shouldn't be too much of a surprise for anyone familiar with the Night Lords trilogy, or even Betrayer, but it's especially evident here. Given the opportunity to fully explore the Imperial Palace, and the variety of locations on hand, the book's focus could have easily wavered and become distracted by secondary details, robbing the reader of this one moment to see the conflict beneath the seat of Imperial power. Instead, while we are granted brief moments of insight into the wider world, much of it is directly worked into and about the war itself. 

Such points are especially evident when it comes to the Imperial Knights involved and the presence of a lone Blood Angel, both of which could have easily seemed obtrusively tacked on points to the story, but instead they enhance the tale and grant a few moments of insight per page. It's rarely ever enough to give the full picture of course, but the moments granted are enough to give an impression of the deeper world about them. 

As you can imagine, the book instead puts a vast amount of time into examining three things above all else - The Emperor's personal guards, the Emperor himself, and the Imperial Webway. There is also Arkhan Land to a lesser degree, who serves as the major Mechanicus presence in the book, but much of his involvement comes down to fleshing out his own personality over seriously getting into the meat of things. While each of these points isn't delved into with the depth and detail one might expect from what was done to the Legions, it nevertheless sheds a great deal of light on the subject. 

The Custodes in particular are seen to be oddly limited at first, lacking many of the internal traditions and individual distinction you would expect, until the novel begins adding some surprising subtleties to their roles. Through the eyes of a few distinct characters, the reader begins to see what separates them from both astartes and humans alike, and how they are more than just a marine on more 'roids. Individualistic but united, insular but ever aware of the universe, each is as much a reflection of the Emperor himself as the astartes are their primarch. The odd unity they can manage despite their individuality is a key part of the story's core themes, and unlike past outings it is rarely presented as a major failing.

Choice is a key part of the tale, along with consequences. While this has been true throughout the Heresy, Master of Mankind approaches it in a myriad of ways, from examining the inevitability of certain hard decisions to the unpredictability of the future. Throughout its pages we see almost every aspect of it introduced, brought up and considered, but without the definitive or singular focus of other tales. It's far more subtle, far more varied than the likes of Aurelian and the importance is placed more upon the here-and-now rather than how far reaching the results of a decision might be. We have already seen that, and when the novel does need to bring up such moments, it does so with more indirect reminders, such as the Emperor's decisions surrounding Angron. We have already seen the results firsthand, so it remains an effective and atmospheric addition to the book without limiting its focus.

Of course, many people will be picking this up to learn about the Big E himself. He's on the cover, he's in the title and he's the head honcho of this Imperium. People are eager to know more about him, and Dembski-Bowden delivers. While wisely keeping a number of key facts to himself, and keeping readers guessing, the book offers further insight into the Emperor's past life. We see in it reflections of his actions on Terra, his moments leading the Thunder Warriors and even a fleeting look into his earliest days. While little is commented upon when it comes to his personal origins or even his true nature, we see enough to know more of his methods, ideas and mental state than ever before. He's less the God here than he is the man, albeit a powerful one and ever the master architect of humanity's future. A few age old questions are even answered, at least to a limited degree, balancing out certain aspects of his character.

The battles, when the book stops to wholly focus upon them, are well told, but that's to be expected at this point. While he lacks the sheer punch of McNeill's works or Abnett's sheer attention to detail, the thematic and emotive qualities of Dembski-Bowden's books cannot be denied. More-so than anyone else, he will always seek to use the battles as an extension or final point to his themes, often using them to resolve major character arcs or shifts; blending them directly into the moment rather than breaking them up during and after a conflict. 

This is best seen throughout the climactic battle, and no matter the scale of the engagement, every shot, punch or stab carries with it a sheer weight and impact few books can match. Really, the finale is easily one of the best since Helsreach, and retains three of the best last-second twists of any Black Library book. Also, yes, there are a lot of surprise twists, but surprisingly they manage to be presented without feeling as if they have piled up in one place or are at risk of overwhelming the reader.

Between these elements, you're left with a fantastic book, an incredible one which pushes the boundaries and delivers points about the universe no other series could hope to make. Unfortunately though, it's far from perfect, and this is where that aforementioned "but" finally swings into play. For, while this book is excellent, it is also deeply flawed in a number of places.

The Bad:

The first one to note is that the core story is incredibly stretched out. Many of Dembski-Bowden's main stories will stick to simple and direct core plots as a basis for stories. 

In Blood Reaver we had Night Lords looking to repair a ship, joining a strike against a stronghold, betraying their alliance and escaping. 

In Betrayer we had the Shadow Crusade attacking one stronghold, flying elsewhere and then performing a climactic battle. 

In Helsreach, we had the Black Templars joining up with problematic allies, defending the hive, slowly losing it, and then managing to hold the city during the finale. 

Other authors perform similar acts, but whereas they will often look to spice it up with some world changing event or element unique to the canon, Dembski-Bowden uses drama and conversation to flesh them out. So, while Seventh Retribution (and many Ben Counter stories, for that matter) would deal with something which could reshape the setting itself by introducing something wholly new or twisting an old idea; Soul Hunter works to make itself stand out thanks to character dynamics, drama and a complex web of personal character arcs. One is extrospective in terms of the canon, the other highly introspective.

Such a style has always been what has helped make this author stand out, but in Master of Mankind it sadly doesn't quite work. Much of that is down to the characters and style of figures involved, who lack the more humanely flawed or outright corrupted qualities he tends to work best with. Bereft of those traits,the Custodes, Sisters and many others seem oddly lifeless on an individual level. They're competently written and conceptually interesting for sure, but many lacked that same connection his Traitor characters benefited from. It's down to presentation and style, and perhaps even a few thematic qualities, but there's something to be said when I can still clearly remember the names of Betrayer's tertiary characters, but no Custodian besides Ra - AKA a primary character the book follows more than anyone else.

The character aspect itself might have been a minor problem were it not for how it seems to have effected other aspects as well. While the book's structure is as dynamic, varied and chaotic (please, that's not a pun) as past books, it manages to seem somewhat disjointed by comparison. Despite the seemingly overstretched nature of the core tale, events never seemed to fully link up properly, with the flashbacks and side elements never adding to the kind of expected cohesive work you might expect. Much of this is down to the pacing and presentation, with some of the flashbacks and historical qualities robbing necessary details from the actual war itself. As such, the actual progress of the conflict seems to massively jump around; with the book going from "we're struggling to hold the line" to "we're doomed!" at the drop of a hat.

Another quite pressing issue is actually the location itself. Warhammer is a setting with countless weird, wonderful and downright unsettling locations, where Napoleonic aesthetics and attires can blend with Neolithic terrors and far future creations. Whether it's a stable, civilized world or a festering tomb of a planet bowing to the Ruinous Powers, it can always stand out. The Webway here, though? It's practically unremarkable. While a few comments are offered surrounding the architecture of its former masters, and a few interesting Imperial perspectives upon the downfall of the Eldar Empire, the Webway almost seems mundane. 

There's nothing truly alien about it, little which seems unsettling, unreal or even otherworldly, and many of those there just react with a dulled "Oh, we're fighting here now" attitude. Even those who are late arrivals to the war, or lack the extreme discipline of the Custodes, fail to show anything besides mild interest, and it's a major disappointment for so unique a battlefield.

However, perhaps the biggest problem overall is the Emperor himself, and how certain events are presented surrounding him. Dembski-Bowden is an excellent writer, he has a view of Warhammer 40,000 which allows him to craft tales of unparalleled quality and scope, and even add twists few would have ever expected. However, he seems to be very adamant in sticking to a few key viewpoints over all others, and never wavering from them in the slightest. 

Now, no one is requiring him to be unbiased or even to re-write his ideas to try and wholly incorporate the views of other writers. Nor is this likely done out of sheer favouritism (see the works of Karen Traviss for an actual example of that) as his stories seem to be there to explore the universe rather than simply stamp down his views. In his opinion, what makes the story more interesting is to have a more anti-Imperial approach to things, where Chaos will always win no matter what. This can work for a single series or novel, but without that room left for other writers to build upon the universe it can cause problems.

For starters, it makes everything fairly boring. If only one side has ever been winning, without anything ever stopping or coming close to halting it, what's the point in getting invested in it? Really, as doomed as humanity seemed to be in A Song of Ice and Fire and even the Lovecraft Mythos, there were always ways around that single loss subject. In the former's case, there's still enough hope that humanity's old foe might be beaten, while the latter was helped by its genre conventions and without the need for an ongoing saga. Even the likes of Battlestar Galactica, a series about survival when all hope was lost, avoided saying "The Cylons will lose in the long run" as it would rob all investment from the viewer. 

Most times Dembski-Bowden has gotten away with this sort of single-minded approach has been helped by the story being set in late M41 or through the use of unreliable narration. By having and Imperial side here backing up that one viewpoint, with possible no opportunity to consider alternative depictions, it limits the story. You no longer have those questions, that suspension of disbelief, you're just waiting around until you see, yes, Chaos wins and that's that. Well, how predictable, I guess I was invested in the wrong side.

This isn't simply to say Chaos is wholly positive in this writer's eyes (as we have an very abrupt paragraph in here to remind us of how Khorne's warriors are more a threat to themselves than an enemy, and how the World Eaters are complete failures) nor the Imperium wholly negative (As Betrayer's Ultramarines embrace their worst qualities in being simply better than everyone at everything, and will never lose save for extreme circumstances). Yet, as each story always sticks to that single defining view of each faction saying "this is right, there are no exceptions, no alternative views on the subject" and going from there, this can become a problem in a story about a figures who are supposed to be very ambiguous. As such, despite his incredibly well-written nature, the Emperor is unfortunately where the book stumbles most.

The book repeatedly reinforces how flawed, failing and mortal he is time and time again, likely as a subversion to the mysticism behind him. Yet, because it keeps hammering in weaknesses and shortcomings, because it keeps focusing upon his more negative traits while avoiding the potentially more hopeful themes, it becomes as infuriating as it is interesting. The interpretation here is of a narrow minded extremist who was always going to fail, and who would do anything to see his dreams brought to fruition. 

According to this, the Emperor viewed his sons as nothing more than weapons, would sacrifice anyone and anything for his personal benefit, and was even more flawed than Magnus the Red. There's no room left here for the greater being other books suggested might exist, or even the more sympathetic man briefly seen in The Outcast Dead. If this book is to be believed, the Emperor was simply a tyrant seeking ultimate control, who failed and took down everyone with him. In trying to further explore the Emperor's ideas, despite keeping his history and certain qualities hidden, it ends up making him far less interesting as a character.

In many ways, the depiction of the Emperor and his Custodians here is very much akin to Angron and the World Eaters in Betrayer. In the name of character examination, Dembski-Bowden focused primarily upon their flaws and failings, enhancing them and exaggerating them. The problem is that, like there, he took it to a point where the story outright ignores many of their strengths and failed to ever balance out this problem, meaning we're left with a very singular, very narrow, depiction of a force who are just outright failures within the setting. Much as I do genuinely praise the effort, forethought and work put into such a dynamic story, this failing above all else ultimately leaves an unsatisfying quality to the tale.


On the whole Master of Mankind is a solid entry into the Horus Heresy series and a great read, but it's oddly almost in spite of itself. Speaking personally, much as I did enjoy the ideas and concepts introduced, so much here worked against the story that I was always left with the sense of almost disliking the fact I was engaged by it. 

It is in many ways akin to the stories of Geoff Johns at DC Comics, especially when it comes to big events. The likes of Blackest Night and Infinity Crisis both hinge upon infuriating, and often extremely negative, trends but the sheer direction and talent behind them helps it pull through. For some that's arguably the highest praise possible, that someone can take a widely derided story element or aspect and make it work despite a reader's inherent opposition for them; but personally it always made me feel that this was a great story, but one which could have been reworked to be a high point for the entire franchise.

Should you get it? Most definitely, as it's a tale which manages to even outshine the winning streak we've had since Pharos, but just be sure you don't completely buy into the hype.

Verdict: 7.7 out of 10


  1. Thank you for this review. I'm writing an alternate universe to 40k, and when this book came out, there was a lot of concern that it would negatively affect our project. I took a look myself and calmed everyone down but have since become engrossed in the discussion about the implications of the novel.

    I'm a long-time reader of your work and know that, though critical, you offer plenty of balanced reviews. Given the controversy surrounding this book, I was greatly looking forward to your review. And you delivered.

    So, again, thank you.

    1. Happy to be of help, i'm just glad that my opinion on this subject made for interesting reading. Though, have to admit, i'm surprised to hear that there's such controversy surrounding it. This author has done similarly surprising things in the past only to be met with celebration for his work.

    2. Perhaps controversy is a bit too grandiose for a word for the situation. Maybe a fandom fight would be more accurate. The argument is only occurring between a few people on Bolter and Chainsword, but the gist is that there are fans who believe that the entire 40k setting is all about a nihilistic struggle against Chaos' inevitable victory.

      So, they believe that Master of Mankind helpfully strengthens their beliefs, while everyone else who believes the Imperium has a chance (albeit, small) are incredibly annoyed by this position, which has led to arguments between the two camps. So, it's not so much an argument over the revelations in the book, so much as the attitude and how it conforms or doesn't conform to one's worldview/beliefs regarding the underlying truth of the setting.

      As for my project, the Brotherhood of the Lost, we have typically depicted the Emperor as a benevolent being, though not without fault since our version of the Horus Heresy, the Icarion Insurrection, still happens. The fear was that AD-B's portrayal of a "narrow minded extremist" completely undermined this position.

      And since we are still trying to mirror canon where it fits in our canon, the thought was did we need to change our portrayal?

      I investigated and concluded no for several reasons. One, as you pointed out, this version of the Emperor seems to be limited to AD-B alone, so we could choose to disregard. Two, given the flexible relationship BL/GW has toward truth in Warhammer, we could choose to ignore MoM's Emperor on those grounds. Three, as our own universe, we can simply say that this interpretation is how our version of the Emperor is and carry on.

      I'm not sure if we picked a specific reason, but we are not removing the Emperor's more Fatherly/Benevolent moments from our canon.

    3. You know, 40K and Horus Heresy canon has been changing so much in recent years that you'd propably be best off with option 3. Just say "this is what the Emperor is in this alternate universe", and roll with it. As long as you make it clear that the Emperor in your project does not necessarily match the Emperor in recent canon, everything should be A-OK.

      There's been so many lore changes in recent years that it's a fool's errand to keep your own fluff up to date with canon. (I actually gave up on 40K fanfluff-writing because of that - the Iron Hands retcons invalidated so much of my stuff that I just didn't see a point to it anymore)

    4. Ouch! I sympathize with your struggles.

      And you have a good point. Option 3 makes it clear that our logic is built on our work as opposed to criticizing current canon.

      So far, our biggest retcons have involved trading out legions. The Brotherhood of the Lost has 18 new legions, and each legion (with a couple of exceptions) has its own author. Unfortunately, a couple of the original writers left/disappeared before they could clearly define their legion concepts to the point where we could build off of what existed. So, we had to replace them, but hopefully we won't have to do that again after our last replacement.

  2. Maybe it's just me, but I've found ADB's works oddly predictable.
    They're certainly not poorly written by any measure and he definitely knows how to tell a pretty picture and set up neat characters, but most of his works are about as unpredictable and standard as a romantic comedy, the twists being as unsurprising to me as the third act breakup in those as a quick example.

    That might just be my personal opinion, but for some reason whenever I read one of his books I get this very odd sense of deja vu, as if I've read the books before or maybe it's the feeling that I know what I'm going to get (and I've yet to be disappointed) since it always feels as if he's delivering the same (very well written) bullet points, just with different characters, and/or in a different area.

    One more thing I'd like to point out is that if the Emperor didn't see the Primarchs as sons then the Horus Heresy wouldn't have happened, or if it did then it would not have happened anywhere close to the way it did. We would not have Magnus using sorcery to contact him because there wouldn't have been the same level of trust from the Emperor to assume that Magnus wouldn't use sorcery (and even if that still happened, the Emperor wouldn't have the trust to assume that everything was still fine with Horus). He wouldn't have changed his heart and saved Angron at the last minute the way he did (either by not letting him go back to his men or because he'd have just taken care of the opposing army himself). We wouldn't have Fulgrim's level of self-indulgence and autonomy (not to mention the Emperor would have had to check in on his 'weapons' more often and he'd spot the Blade of the Laer in a heartbeat) and we certainly wouldn't have had the Emperor give up the Great Crusade to Horus the way he did.

    As you mention that the book's more than a little generous in hammering out the Emperor's failings, to the point that I wonder if it's the opposite of The Last Church, where that book was a little infuriating for me to read because the Emperor uses arguments that even a novice debater could completely destroy (let alone anyone familiar to the subjects at hand) to explain why he thinks religion is bad, yet the priest he's talking to has no counter arguments at all.

    I'll likely still pick up this book because I do like reading well-written stories regardless of how predictable they feel, though that one point is a major failing to me that on its own might kill the book for me.

    1. The sad thing is that most of the stuff you bring up where the Emperor did regard the primarchs as his sons, it skips entirely. It tries to treat it as a very one-sided affair, something he only permitted to retain their loyalty, and in the case of Angron something he did to give him another weapon. Really, there's an entire section of the book where they're examining Angron's body (while he's unconscious) and he decides he's going to just leave the Butcher's Nails in there to give him another warrior, and permit the War Hounds to have them so they'll be a more effective bloodthirsty force. With little to nothing to help counterbalance this sort of thing, it honestly starts to become very one one. Plus, it doesn't help that it retcons his overarching plan for humanity and psykers as well, though i'm not sure how much was down to ABD himself and how much was down to prior authors.

      Also, it is interesting you describe them as predictable as that's not something which occurred to me before. While personally I don't entirely agree with it - as there are plenty of twists and shocks which did still get me - I will agree that there is a more notably predictable curve to events, and how the larger scale of the story will map out. It's only with the character dynamics and personal drama that serious shocks tend to arise, and where the books are definitely strongest. That's not to say he can't write an excellent battle of course.

      In addition, I have to ask, was The Last Church actually a pro-Emperor story? Sorry, I have not read it for myself, but most people cite less the Emperor proving he was right and more how one last priest on Terra defied him to the bitter end. It could be down to personal opinion of course, but most accounts of the tale cite it as a story heavily criticizing the Emperor's edict.

    2. But why would the Emperor want berserkers instead of intelligent soldiers? If he only wanted weapons he'd have just stuck to making Thunder Warriors who were far superior to the Space Marines, and in fact the main reason he switched was because the Thunder Warriors were only good as weapons.

      As for The Last Church, it's not a pro-Emperor story, it just has a huge problem with presenting arguments. For example, The Emperor cites the Crusades as one of the reasons religion is evil, as if there wouldn't be crusades without religion, even though he's literally just about to launch THE GREAT CRUSADE. The irony of the situation is lost on all participants (including the author).
      The main reason anyone remembers it is because of the last section when the priest finally turns on the Emperor. After he leaves the church, he sees the Emperor's army, and turns completely around (he had been convinced to go with the Emperor prior to this) stating that unless the Emperor could be everywhere, people were going to worship him as a god and that people would also do things in his name that the Emperor just stated come specifically from religion. The Emperor's response to that was (and I'm paraphrasing) "Look, can't you just see it my way?"
      After that the priest abandons him for the church and the Emperor's sad as he orders the church to be destroyed. My main issue is just that the arguments used were terrible since (in both cases, but moreso against the priest) they're extremely one-sided.

    3. Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. Some could argue he might have wanted some of that unyielding ferocity to exist to confront the worst of threats, but the truth is little actually makes real sense. In fact, the whole scene with Angron actually exemplifies the book. It is wonderfully crafted, brilliantly atmospheric and with a great conversation, yet it has the simple problem of making little to no sense in the grand scheme of things. If anything, it seemed to exist more to take jabs at the Emperor and the World Eaters than anyone else. I mean, sticking with the former for a moment, he speaks with Arkhan Land about the Butcher's Nails, identifies them, and confirms they were one of the technologies forbidden on Mars. There's some suggestions that the Emperor realises they might be linked, or even bend a mind towards, the Ruinous Powers, but does nothing because their failings would supposedly be offset by their killing potential.

      Well, I might need to read that for myself then unfortunately, but it does sound like McNeill at times. As great an author as he is, he does have this nasty habit of overly simplifying certain subjects or themes in his worse stories.

    4. I kind of wonder what ADB's excuse is for the Emperor not sticking with the Thunder Warriors, or just going with something else like the Mechanicus given how they could easily create far better weapons (and in some cases, better soldiers). Back them (or perhaps head them) by some of the commanders of the Solar Auxilia and he wouldn't have even needed the Space Marines to conquer the galaxy.

      I just don't get it, if all the Emperor cared about was their combat ability, then there were so many other options he could have gone for rather than the Marines and Primarchs.

      Incidentally if you want to read The Last Church, the easiest way to find it is to look at 1d4chan's article on the thing and click on the history tab. At one point somebody posted the entire story there, so you only need to find it in its specific tab as eventually everyone realized what they had done and deleted it (thankfully nothing fully vanishes from wiki sites like that, so the story's still there in one of the archived pages).

  3. I'm pretty sure that the Science!Emperor that Land met with wasn't TRUEEmperor. The Emperor wanted answers and he didn't have time to deal with Land spending too much time focusing on "Why the hell does my omnissiah feel emotion!?!?!?!?"

    It was a facet of the emperor and not the real one. Different people would meet with different parts depending on the situation.

  4. I got what the review is saying about the negativity of the portrayal of the Emperor, but I also think there was a bit of "trust him" in it, too. The Custodes were the main perspective of the Emperor in this, so they see him as their buddy/cool dad, and the rest of the Imperium are not his kids, just his tools. There was some of this in The First Heretic, with the Custodes observers, who were kind of blinded to what was going on, in part because of their presumed superiority to the Astartes and even the primarchs (or at least one so pathetic as pre-Chaos Lorgar). I think you could interpret a lot of stuff either way.

    Is the Emperor's interaction with Ra throughout the book a manipulation to get him to fall on the grenade as the Emperor requires at the end, or is it the effort of a man who cares for one of his progeny or protegees bucking him and preparing him for the unfortunate but necessary sacrifice that is coming?

    The scene with Angron was probably there specifically to highlight how the decision to let him live is coming back to haunt the Emperor, since it is the World Eaters who are storming the webway. And as it Land's view, which could be seen as unreliable, as is the Emperor's presentation to him. Would the Emperor give voice to his feelings for his son, to a high-ranking Mechanicum adept who would see it as a flaw in the Omnissiah? The decision to keep and deploy Angron looks stupid from a purely logical point of view, but then, there is no explanation why the Emperor would keep Angron around, unless it was out of paternal affection. ADB gets into the Butcher's Nails elsewhere, and the impossibility of their removal, the certain end of their user, and the fact that they leave you able to enjoy nothing but battle. In Angron's condition, sending him out to lead his legion into battle is the equivalent of making him comfortable in his decline.

    That the Emperor has flaws and failed sometimes cannot help but be shown, since they are both manifestly true. But many of his failings are arguably for good and human reasons. Other people have had what I see as the contradictory reaction to the Angron scene, on the one hand claiming it shows the Emperor is callous toward his son, and this represents the entirety of his attitude toward all the primarchs, and at the same time criticizing him for NOT acting in a callous and self-serving manner concerning said son.

    I believe ADB's intention was to, like the Emperor, present a portrayal that could be all things to all readers. There are hints of several of the different legends of the Emperor's origin given in the books, so you could find support in these pages for whichever theory you prefer. You could find reasons to say that the Emperor only saw the primarchs as weapons, or that there are hints to the contrary which elude the PoV characters, a heartless cyborg, and a bodyguard who is convinced he and his are the real sons and the primarchs just weapons. For example, the Emperor, in this book, refers to the primarchs almost exclusively by their numbers. He doesn't say Horus, Angron or Magnus, he says "the 12th, the 15th and the 16th". That COULD be because he sees them only as a series of tools, or it could be, because that is how he first thought of them during their gestation and their estranged childhoods. Their names were given to them by their foster parents on their homeworlds, after all. Whatever name he might address them by, maybe to the Emperor, a name like "The 7th or the 9th" conveys as much as the name an ordinary parents gives a child.

    ADB is definitely all about balancing the versions of the lore, and I think that's what he was about in this book, not making a case for his own rigid perspective.