The future we face under climate change is often presented as a progression of sterile facts: The world’s oceans are likely to rise by X meters by the year 2100. Global average temperatures are going to increase by Y degrees over the next 30 years. There will be Z millions of climate refugees seeking new homes. The problem with these numerical descriptions of a hellishly hot future is that they often ignore the human toll of climate change. Not so in Kim Stanley Robinson’s latest book, The Ministry for the Future. Robinson’s view of climate change is deeply personal, inescapably human and utterly horrifying.

The Ministry for the Future frames the story of humanity’s future around the formation and future-history of an international organization of the same name. Established in 2025, its mission is straightforward: It must advocate for the future of the Earth and the creatures that make their homes here. What this means, in practice, is trying to mitigate—and bear witness to—the human toll of catastrophic climate change. Robinson structures his story as a series of oral histories, eyewitness accounts of a changing world. While this technique isn’t new, it is unique in both the number of different accounts Robinson chooses to follow and the type. Robinson doesn’t focus on the macro or the micro; he focuses on it all. While the novel opens with the account of the sole survivor of a killer heat wave in Lucknow, India, it doesn’t stay there. It ranges from international politics (Is geoengineering a viable solution? What would happen if a single country unilaterally decided to engineer a solution to rising temperatures?) to the stories of individuals dealing with PTSD, forced migration and heat waves, among other things.

The Ministry for the Future isn’t really a book for folks who are used to (or longing for) grand space operas and tales of cosmic exploration and action. Although Robinson’s prose is evocative, the book isn’t exactly exciting. Robinson’s writing is sparse, and what plot that exists within the pages of this book is often obscured by its structure. Much like the future, The Ministry for the Future doesn’t lay itself out in a straight and orderly fashion.

Despite its occasionally dry tone, Kim Stanley Robinson’s take on our future is one of the most moving pieces of climate fiction written in a very long time. Well researched and beautifully written, The Ministry for the Future is a thought-provoking (and sometimes even hopeful) read for anyone looking to the future and wondering what’s coming next.

An interplanetary bureaucracy faces a moral dilemma in Erin K. Wagner’s An Unnatural Life, a novella that prioritizes thoughtful questions over dramatic plot points. An Unnatural Life focuses on answering exactly one question: Who, or what, is guilty of murder? Aiya, a lawyer living on Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons, takes the case of an android named 812-3, who has been convicted of killing a human worker. Were 812-3 human, the case would certainly have been labeled a mistrial and would be liable for appeal. Aiya takes on the role of representing him, applying for appeal on his behalf even though androids do not have equal rights under the law on Europa.

Wagner lets the story unfold in a passive, third-person voice, creating an atmosphere more reminiscent of nonfiction and biography than science fiction. Events play out as if a neutral party were merely reading the thoughts of Aiya, or calmly dictating her actions. As a result, no moral question or dilemma is resolved or answered by the narrative; the reader is left to ponder these questions themselves.

This documentarian voice allows Wagner to paint with the brush of a journalist, depicting events clearly and factually. Feelings of disgust, fear or suspense in the reader are neutralized in favor of thoughtful inquiry measured with reasonable skepticism. Similar to most nonfiction explorations of modern events, An Unnatural Life eschews a normal, tidy ending for one that is more realistic. While Aiya’s emotional and social journey is certainly not uneventful, Wagner’s nihilistic take on the state of humanity does not leave room for much to change by the end of the story.

Perhaps due to its placement beyond the asteroid belt, or its entirely icy nature, Europa serves as an excellent backdrop for Wagner’s stoic and cold novella. While Mars or Venus may appeal to the uninitiated, Europa has always had a distinctly alien, otherworldly feel. The choice of setting also facilitates a likely setup for a sequel: a series of short, first-person radio logs that document an explorer’s journey into the unknown areas of Europa. This subplot gives the novella an interesting cadence as it bounces the reader between suspenseful exploration and courtroom politicking, sometimes within the space of two paragraphs.

An Unnatural Life will appeal to the philosopher within its audience, those who want to cozy up and consider a lightly challenging moral and ethical dilemma.

Fresh and funny, Hench exposes the inner lives of superheroes, villains and sidekicks with all their mundane vulnerabilities.

Anna Tromedlov is a struggling, hapless temp who “henches” for evil villains. When she is badly injured during a battle between the forces of good and evil, she finds herself broke, broken and unemployed. So she does what she does best: runs the numbers to discover the extent of damage caused by those supposed do-gooders. Anna’s database goes viral, and she is soon employed by Leviathan, a mysterious and powerful villain who uses Anna’s expert skills in collecting and collating data to bring down superheroes by the numbers. They’re targeting one superhero in particular: Supercollider, who caused Anna’s downfall and, ultimately, her rise.

Familiar tropes are turned upside down in this fast-paced caper, and no one is perfect. Superheroes carelessly cause damage while fighting for justice. The villains are more efficient and professional than the so-called “good guys.” Even the downtrodden Anna, who becomes a dangerous asset when she wields her database skills, continues to wrestle with self-doubt despite her success.

Toronto writer and journalist Natalie Zina Walschots deftly choreographs the dynamic skirmishes between superheroes and villains, who sport suitably fabulous names like the Electric Eel, Glassblower, Quantum and Auditor. (Guess who gets the latter title.) While there is some bloodshed and gore, the attention falls mostly on the often humorous dialogue and commentary by Anna and her cohorts. Wry observations about the corporate world, our litigious society and how our chaotic lives are ruled by dry-cleaning tickets and family obligations are sprinkled throughout.

Rousing and irreverent, Hench is an entertaining adventure that challenges the stereotypes of heroes, villains and the humble temp.

It hardly seems like a year has passed since the publication of Chilling Effect, the first installment of Captain Eva Innocente’s adventures—a gravity-defying, guns-blazing space opera fit for fans of psychic cats and diverse alien species. But as readers find themselves on board La Sirena Negra once more, it truly feels like we never left this adventure, and these worlds, to begin with.

Valdes reintroduces Captain Eva’s crew of misfit mercenaries. Some of the crew never had a home planet, but they’ve found a home here. There’s Eva with her mystical personal aquarium and affinity for psychic felines; Vakar, a Quennian Wraith whose relationship with Eva has blossomed and whose emotions manifest themselves as smells; Pink, the brusque but loyal-to-the-bone medic with a mechanical eye; Min, the pilot whose body and mind have melded with the ship; and Mx. Sue Zafone, a recently added engineer who revels in building bots but whose familial secrets might come back to bite the crew of La Sirena Negra. In addition to the return of friendly faces, we encounter more of Eva’s biological family members: Agent Virgo (aka her sister, Mari), who asks Eva to locate a missing scientist, and their estranged mother, Regina Alvarez, who may be able to help Eva complete her mission.

The action in Prime Deceptions starts on the very first page, when readers are thrust into the midst of a battle, and the twists continue until the end as Eva and her crew navigate the vast galaxy. All the facets of Eva that readers loved from the first book are back—humorous and creative curses in Spanish, witty banter and a jaded facade that only barely conceals her passionate heart. As the crew follows mysterious and possibly sinister coordinates provided by Mari, whose actions previously endangered their lives, they’ll have to reach out to all of their contacts for help, and in the depths of space, they’ll find memorable aliens, cat chats and poignant moments aplenty (not to mention epic fight scenes).

Where Chilling Effect explored each crew member’s individual journey and identity, Prime Deceptions delves into how the crew functions as a family and as a team. In the face of a fandom planet, troubling memories and past nemeses and allies, Eva steps up as the confident captain readers have come to love, the essential glue that binds together this squad of broken and betrayed souls. This is a wild and imaginative adventure that captures the importance of one’s chosen family.

Exploring mental illness via ’80s cyberpunk-action vignettes is no easy task, but Ferrett Steinmetz’s Automatic Reload accomplishes it with panache. Set in the near future, Automatic Reload takes readers to a world where automation has just begun its ascent to supremacy. Our narrator, Mat, is an ex-military drone operator turned cybernetic mercenary, or bodyhacker. He receives a mysterious, possibly super profitable contract, rife with unknown danger and enemies. He meets our other protagonist, Sylvia, soon after beginning the mission, and the two become fast friends, lovers and fugitives from nearly everyone they know.

The exposition runs through a couple of weeks, but the primary story happens over a mere 24 hours. In this short time, our protagonists move from ambush to obstacle to blockade run, shooting, punching and panicking through each scene. Mental illness is a central theme of the book, as both of our primary protagonists have experience with similar conditions: Mat has PTSD, and Silvia has a panic disorder. The depiction feels natural and well thought out, and it helps separate our main characters from your typical immortal, unbothered action heroes. Rather than violently obliterating everything in their way, Mat and Sylvia meticulously sort through every plan to ensure no civilians or innocent bystanders are hurt. They both have mental illnesses, and they’re both quite capable warriors, and one does not invalidate the other. I appreciated that Automatic Reload does not try to “cure” Mat or Sylvia. Instead, the narrative leans into their coping methods and allows the characters to work through their pain and trauma.

Since most of the plot happens over the course of one day, Steinmetz’s lack of chapter breaks creates a chaotic, stressful pace for readers. You’ll want to read this book in 100-page segments, pausing only when you reach one of Steinmetz’s act breaks. I enjoyed the structure of the book and Steinmetz’s frenetic writing style, but this is certainly not a book for light reading in 10- to 15-minute chunks, and readers looking for a calm read on a cool afternoon will not find a solution to their needs.

Automatic Reload is perfect for anyone looking for a lighter take on cyberpunk stories. The tech of Steinmetz’s future world walks the border of psuedoscience just enough to entertain without preventing immersion in what seems like a very realistic future. There are no surprising betrayals or stunning revelations, simply good people trying to do good things. Explosive and page-turning prose, ridiculous scenarios and an empowering perspective on mental illness make Automatic Reload a fun and engaging read.