In the first two books of the Themis Files, Dr. Rose Franklin discovered and rebuilt an alien war machine, nearly doomed the human race to extinction at the hands of an aggressively benevolent alien power, wrenched survival from the jaws of an untimely demise and was accidentally whisked off into space along with a linguist named Vincent, his daughter Eva and General Eugene Govender of the Earth Defense Corps. Now, nine years later, she must save her species again, this time from itself. With her friendships fractured and thrown into a cauldron of eugenics and Cold War imperialism, she must rely on her intelligence, instincts and stubborn unwillingness to accept the world as it is.

Sylvain Neuvel is an engaging and atypical writer. Like the rest of the series, Only Human is told entirely in transcripts of conversations, interviews and news reports, and Neuvel handles this challenging storytelling medium extremely well. The story he tells is interesting and compelling, in large part due to the complexity of the supporting cast. Although the most enigmatic character from the first two novels—his name is never revealed, even when he details his own history—is absent, Vincent’s struggle with the responsibilities of fatherhood, and the blurred moralities of geneticist Alyssa Papantoniou and GRU officer Katherine Lebedev admirably fill that void. Even if the ending has a touch of deus ex machina, this is a story driven by its people more than its plot.

The familiarity of that plot at times makes Only Human the literary equivalent of a cover band of a cover band composed of better musicians than the groups they mimic. It is most reminiscent of Carl Sagan’s Contact or the recent film Arrival, both of which also featured an alien species contacting humanity at some technological milestone, a group of scientists attempting to decode that civilization’s language to construct and use a giant machine, and a realization of the flaws in human nature. But Neuvel’s narrative technique sets the Themis Files apart from its predecessors and demonstrates that even the most well-worn stories can always be told better than before.

Only Human is a fitting conclusion to a well-crafted sci-fi fable of human fallacy. Its plot may cover previously trodden ground, but its narrative technique and character depth make it worth the reader’s time. Just be sure to read the rest of the trilogy first.

Decibel Jones, one-time rock god and full-time personification of glam and glitter, wakes up from a hangover to confront an alien invasion. More precisely, he wakes up to find himself being abducted. The aliens want to know more about humanity, and they have chosen Jones and his old band, the Absolute Zeros, as the best living specimens.

That is the extent of the similarities between Space Opera and any other book about humankind’s first interaction with extraterrestrial life. Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros are not bound for an examination room and a catalog; rather, they are headed for a stage. These aliens’ research method of choice is, of all things, a song competition, and they hope to determine whether or not humanity has enough soul to be allowed to survive.

Although Catherynne M. Valente’s delightful sense of humor is the most constant aspect of her prose, it is not the most memorable. Although her comedic talents are reminiscent of Douglas Adams at his best, Valente’s palette is far larger. Her prose is always quick and engrossing, but the content ranges from a glitzy, sometimes profane satirization of the music industry and its larger-than-life characters, to dead-serious flashbacks and a genuinely moving finale.

That ability to fluidly tie real-world tragedy together with psychedelic hilarity is perhaps Space Opera’s most impressive attribute. Valente’s writing here is as strong as anything taught as “good prose,” although the rock and whimsy will keep it from finding its way into the traditional literary canon anytime soon. And that’s a shame. It takes confidence, skill and talent to craft a tragic disco ball metaphor, and Valente has all three in spades.

At the end of the day, Valente’s fiction of a high-stakes, sequined Intergalactic Idol ably addresses what it means to be human and what it means to love someone, while being ever-entertaining and, crucially, being the kind of book that makes you want to dance. It’s got soul, after all.

It’s been six years since the colonists of Donovan, the farthest known planet capable of supporting human life, have had contact with the Corporation. A business and nation state in one, the Corporation was supposed to send frequent ships full of supplies and medicine to the colonists, as well as act as a guaranteed way back home.

Abandoned on a planet where nearly everything is poisonous and almost every alien life-form is capable of inflicting sudden, often very painful death, the colonists mutiny against their controlling overseer, set up their own governments and do their best to survive. W. Michael Gear’s Outpost begins when a Corporation ship, the Turalon, arrives armed and ready to take control of the planet and its people.

The Corporation has actually been sending ships to Donovan steadily over the years—but none have returned or even shown up in the planet’s atmosphere, and no one knows why. And when another, older Corporation ship suddenly appears in the planet’s atmosphere, everyone on it has been dead for decades. Supervisor Kalico Aguila, the woman in charge of the Turalon, nearly tips into an Ayn Rand parody at the beginning of Outpost, but her increasingly panicked anxiety over what might befall her if she leaves the planet is empathetically and effectively portrayed.

A violent confrontation seems inevitable, but Gear takes a character-driven, organic approach to the plot, deriving a level of humor that is surprising for a book with a statue of human bones on its cover. The Donovan colonists have gone various shades of native—most are clad in the scaly rainbow skin of quetzals, the large and vicious lizards that rule the bush outside their heavily guarded settlement. Aguila expects to be met with deference and fear, but her high heels sink in the mud, and the colonists call her combat-ready Marines “soft meat.”

Despite how extremely, almost hilariously dangerous the planet is, Gear’s knack for human detail and vivid depictions of the rugged natural beauty of his world make the death trap of a planet appealing. A large section of the novel is from the point of view of the Marines’ leader, Max “Cap” Taggart, as he explores the wilderness of Donovan alongside colonist leader Talina Perez. Taggart’s delight at the freedom and purity of life on the alien planet—and his unquestioned respect for the stalwart Talina—makes him a far more appealing and complex figure than the cynical grunt he first appears to be.

Nearly every character in Outpost has hidden depths and hidden sorrows, from Talina’s odd connection to the savage quetzals to the philosophical underpinnings behind her fellow leader Shig’s sangfroid. Gear’s novel at times reads more like an introduction than a properly formed novel, but with a world so rich, with so many characters to fascinate, it’s still an excellent start to an intriguing new sci-fi series.

Special Agent Shannon Moss is assigned by the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to help solve the brutal murder of a Navy SEAL’s family—but that’s not her only mission regarding the crime. Embedded in the NCIS, Moss is also part of a black ops program that travels to deep space and potential future timelines. The prime suspect in the family’s ritualistic slaying (and the potential kidnapper of a child missing from the murder scene) has been presumed dead for years, his ship destroyed during an early intergalactic mission. Essentially, Agent Moss is searching for a man who shouldn’t exist.

Armed with Navy technology that can propel agents into possible futures, Moss ventures forward in time, searching for clues to solve the 1997 murders. Looming over both her investigation and the time travel program is the revelation that an apocalyptic event designated Terminus is moving closer in history, approaching the present. Agent Moss’ excursions into potential timelines reveal grim domestic terror events evolving from the original murder, as well as an unexplained acceleration of the Terminus cataclysm.

Tom Sweterlitsch has crafted a powerful and compelling protagonist in Shannon Moss, a female amputee navigating the military and law enforcement structure of the 1990s. Her stamina and versatility in the face of shifting possibilities and loyalties stem from a life spent overcoming the odds. She battles mounting physical and emotional scars beneath an unflinching facade as allies evolve into enemies, victims become suspects, and the future threatens everything that came before it.

Built on the solid foundation of a mystery novel, The Gone World displays the mesmerizing power of rich speculative fiction, which drives the investigation forward (and backward) in time. Transporting readers to increasingly hostile timelines, Sweterlitsch delivers visceral and unflinching action in this dynamic merger of murder mystery and futuristic vision.

What remains after you change the world? That is the central question of Iron Gold, the first installment of Pierce Brown’s new trilogy set in the Red Rising universe. The revolution is over, and a new Republic has risen from the ashes of the oppressive empire that ruled for generations. However, war still looms as the now-legendary hero Darrow struggles to bring the inner planets—still under the control of the brutal Ash Lord and the Society—under the Republic’s dominion. But endless battles come with a cost. His crusade costs millions of lives, threatening not only the new Republic but also Darrow’s place in it. The Reaper’s new world is moving on, and new stars are rising. The heir of the deposed au Lune family, raised in obscurity, makes a discovery in the Gulf. A soldier-turned-thief struggles with his grief after the Rising. A Red girl, now free from the mines, tries to rebuild after she loses everything.

While the Red Rising trilogy primarily focused on Darrow’s struggle, this new chapter spends as much time on the consequences of his actions, past and present, on those around him. The book still contains many of the kinetic fight scenes that were a hallmark of the first series. Golds still cross razors in painfully visceral duels, and armies still clash in grand fashion in the skies. However, it is in the stories of his new characters that Brown shows real mastery. We feel their confusion as they struggle to adapt to their changing worlds. We sympathize with their frustration with the way things are—even when their frustrations are at odds with one another. As he tells their tales, Brown reminds readers that within the small and specific, there is something universal.

If there is one drawback to Iron Gold, it is its length. While no single scene in its nearly 600 pages is superfluous, there is a lot of setup—especially in the first few hundred pages—that takes a while to pay off. Impatient readers may wonder why we care about our newest characters, why Brown spends so much time on them rather than focusing on our hero. But it’s worth the wait. Without those careful chapters at the beginning, the book itself would be much less satisfying.

Iron Gold makes us come to terms with ourselves as readers. It is satisfying to watch a protagonist bomb an entire world to bring about a new order. It is satisfying to watch them tear it all down, to free the oppressed. But as readers, we aren’t often asked to sit through the pain of what comes next. We aren’t asked whether our heroes can decide that they’ve done enough or whether they will always be fighting—whether they can turn instead to raising a family or rebuilding a society. Iron Gold asks us those questions, and some answers aren’t what we want to hear. However, it’s those uncomfortable answers that make Iron Gold such a refreshing and impressive read.

The mind is a mysterious thing. It keeps our secrets safe, imagines distant futures and stores our memories. What if your mind was recorded so that, in the event of a crime, someone could play back its memories like a cassette tape? Would doing this make society safer? Or would our perception of ourselves cease to exist? Gnomon, Nick Harkaway’s kaleidoscopic, mind-bending novel, pulls the reader into a mental vortex and never lets go.

In a society controlled by an advanced AI, everything is recorded, right down to individual thoughts. When Diana Hunter, a suspected revolutionary, dies in government custody, intrepid state investigator Mielikki Neith combs through Hunter’s memories to discover why. She finds memories not from one person but several, including an Ethiopian painter, an alchemist from ancient Carthage and a violent pseudoconscience from the distant future. The investigation propels Neith on a journey to discover the true identity of Diana Hunter, all while trying to maintain her own sanity.

Reading Gnomon is a bit like driving a car at high speed—at some point, you’re just trying to hold on. The narrative barrels forward, building feverishly with the multilayered dimensions of Hunter’s mind. Neith serves as the reader’s safe harbor, a calm and determined truth-seeker who balances the book’s many perspectives.

The deep forays into Hunter’s memories give the story incredible potency. The personalities Harkaway builds leap off the page, bringing full color to a string of existential quandaries with which the author challenges the reader. At every turn, we find ourselves considering the philosophical depths of the mind, the limit of consciousness and whether coincidences are in fact universal patterns.

With Tigerman and The Gone-Away World, Harkaway gave a glimpse of the confidence and fearlessness he delivers here in spades. With Gnomon, he has landed in the sci-fi pantheon. Glimpses of William Gibson, Ridley Scott and Alan Moore abound, but in the end, Harkaway has found a deep, sometimes terrifying future-scape all for himself, one that surprises and challenges right to the last firing synapse.

After years of steering the crew of the attack ship Rocinante through the heart of conflicts and intrigues that affected humanity on a galactic scale, Captain James Holden is ready to retire. Pulling in his wake an unconventional crew that includes a dangerously volatile mechanic, a physically deteriorating former foe, former Martian military officers and a Belter with reasons to hate them all, Holden’s team has nonetheless evolved over decades into a close shipboard family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

Holden’s sudden plan to exit leaves the crew members with little time to adapt to a changed hierarchy and someone new in the captain’s chair. Before moving on to the next stage of their lives, Holden and his partner Naomi, the Rocinante’s engineer and Executive Officer, arrange to say their goodbyes to their crew family at Medina station, the central point of transit and departure through the vast ring of gates to new planets and solar systems. But before the Roci crew can fully part ways, unfinished business from a decades-old conflict boils through the Laconian gate.

Armed with new ships and troops fanatically loyal to a protomolecule-enhanced leader, the long-absent Laconian navy returns to occupy Medina Station and seize access to the gateways that are humanity’s only access to the broader galaxy. Equipped with frightening protomolecule technology and scavenged alien resources, the invading force acts with dangerous unpredictability in their quest to control the vital trade and travel nexus. Their complete domination of the station and ring emboldens the returned renegade navy to subdue the perceived core of humanity’s governance, the Sol system.

Stranded on Medina and threatened by an increasingly brutal occupying force, the Rocinante crew joins old adversaries from Mars, Earth and the Belt in uneasy alliances. With limited resources, they assemble a fractious underground resistance as they race to salvage any capability of fighting back. Unmoored from their ship, unbound by governance and uncertain about their leadership, the Rocinante crewmates are thrust into changing roles that reveal difficult truths about them. Even Holden, whose retirement hasn’t even begun, recognizes that when disaster strikes, he doesn’t know how not to be in the middle of it.

Following the crew as they’re divided and forced into close quarters guerilla action, Persepolis Rising offers some of the most intimate exploration of the series’ beloved characters to date. While Holden has a part to play, this book allows more room for the perspectives of other crew favorites, giving their distinctive and entertaining dialogues room to really breathe. James S. A. Corey’s talent for painting the crew’s intimate stories against the vast landscape of space is on full and fantastic display here.

This explosive opening salvo for the third trilogy in the Expanse series promises shocking change as longstanding powers are swept from the field and new players emerge from the violence. The protomolecule horror that ignited the pace of this series in Corey’s first book is back with provocative and terrifying potential. With whole systems disarmed and fighters in flight, Persepolis Rising prepares humanity for its greatest test of resilience—and resistance.