Science fiction novel, written by Annalee Newitz and published by Tor Publishing Group in 2023.
There are a lot of big ideas in science fiction that don't really pass the smell test. Teleportation, faster-than-light travel through space, true artificial intelligence, Dyson spheres, brain uploading, time travel -- if they are possible at all, most would be thousands or millions of years beyond our capabilities. But we're fine with seeing them in our fiction, because they're fun, and they lead to fun, thoughtful, interesting stories.
Terraforming is one of these big concepts. Terraforming is a very theoretical process in which the atmosphere, and general environment of a planet or moon would be scientifically altered to make it similar to Earth, so humans could live on it. You'd need extremely advanced technology to do this -- and even then, it would take thousands of years to accomplish. In "Total Recall," alien hypertech partially terraforms Mars in a matter of minutes. In "Star Trek II," 23rd century tech is sufficient to fully terraform a planet in days.
But Newitz's "The Terraformers" takes a somewhat more realistic approach of this hypothetical technology. First, the story doesn't take place in the 22nd or 23rd century -- it opens in the year 59,006! And second, it establishes that terraforming isn't a quick process. It takes thousands of years to change a planet into something humans and Earth animals can be comfortable on.
So our initial lead character is Destry, a ranger working on an Environmental Rescue Team on the planet Sask-E, which has been undergoing terraformation for centuries. Destry has lived on Sask-E all her life, just as her parents did, and her grandparents before them, and she and her fellow ERT members are largely focused on stewarding the planets they work on in ways that will promote ecological and environmental well-being.
Now it's some 60,000 years into the future, and in some ways, life is absolutely greater than it ever has been. Members of the ERT and communities throughout Sask-E dine together, preparing vegetarian meals together, working together to clean up the places they live and help others when they need help. Many animals have been uplifted to full sentience. Bioengineering has eliminated most, if not all, diseases, and allows people to live much longer lives -- Destry herself is well over 400 years old, and physically, she's in early middle age. Buildings and other structures are grown, like plants -- you set up a large trellis structure for them to grow on, and in a very short period, you've got a whole building. And when you're done with it, you let it biodegrade.
But things are far from perfect. In some ways, many of the problems that plague us today are still around, and in some other ways, people have backslid badly. That advanced technology hasn't been entirely used for positive ends. For example, Destry's closest friend is Whistle, an uplifted moose who can communicate through in-brain text messaging and is even able to fly. But though some uplifted animals are considered people, just like humans, Whistle is classified as a mount. This means that, though he's as intelligent as Destry, he's had his brain altered to make him appear stupid -- he is only able to communicate using one-syllable words. This doesn't sound like too great a handicap, but he's a member of a terraforming team, and he's unable to say "terraforming" or "environment" or "ecosystem" or "planet." And there are some who are even worse off than Whistle -- those who are classified as "blessed" are unable to talk about anything but their professions. At one point late in the novel, the characters meet a blessed chef -- they clearly have plenty of things they would love to say, but they're physically unable to talk about anything but cooking.
And Sask-E is nearly entirely owned and governed by cutthroat galactic megacorps, initially by Verdance Corporation and later by Emerald Development. And a lot of the people living on Sask-E are slaves. They're not abused, they're not kept on plantations or prisons, they're not in literal chains -- but when you're not allowed to leave the planet or your job, and when you don't actually own your own body, you're still a slave. Even if you're not owned by the corporation, you're not allowed to communicate with anyone outside of Sask-E -- to make sure the company can keep bad news from getting to investors -- and the company may murder you if you're likely to damage their investment.
And the story's plot gets going when Destry, Whistle, and a couple other rangers discover a secret city hidden inside a dormant volcano. Spider City is populated by H. diversus (genetically engineered humans -- in this case, mostly Homo archaeans who are able to breathe the lower oxygen atmosphere inside the volcano), robotic drones, naked mole rats, and other people. They were part of a much earlier set of terraformers, who were all supposed to have died out by now. But they're still thriving here, and they're entirely off Verdance's grid. They have no loyalty to the corporation, they're not owned by the corporation, and they don't trust anyone affiliated with the corporation. This leads to significant tension between the local ERT rangers and the residents of Spider City -- and a hell of a lot more tension from Verdance, which is not happy about having planetary stowaways and even less happy when they learn that Spider City has a strategy to really fuck up the Sask-E investment if Verdance doesn't negotiate with them in good faith.
From this point, much of the book is focused on political intrigue, interspersed with spectacular science fiction advancements and the occasional attack by megacorporate oppressors. Everyone manages to ensure Spider City will remain free, though some concessions to Verdance are necessary. And 700 years later, we have a new set of characters: Sulfur, an Archaean ranger, Rocket, a robot, Misha, Destry's replacement on the ERT rangers being watched closely by Destry's old boss, and Zest, an uplifted cow. They've been tasked with doing a survey to look for good locations for a train line. There's less plot in this section, as we're following the team, meeting new and strange people, and learning more about the world of Sask-E -- but there's more than enough time to ponder why Misha is so dang weird, to be horrified by how thoroughly rotten Misha's boss is, and for the team to try to figure out how to make the train system into something that isn't going to be horrible for the whole planet.
And then, after another 900 years pass, we get a new, smaller group of characters: Scrubjay, who is a talking, flying train, and Moose, a cat journalist. Moose lost his home recently -- a problem for a lot of people on Sask-E at the moment, as the big corporations have boosted rent and evictions everywhere to run people off so they can attract big-budget tourists to the planet. In fact, Moose ends up living inside of Scrubjay for a while, which seems like a really weird kind of relationship to have. And then, unhappy with protests against the corporation's gentrification policies, Emerald Development blasts several residential skyscrapers apart in one of the planet's largest cities. In the midst of evacuations, relocations, and more scandals as Emerald's evil plans for Sask-E's future are revealed, Moose ends up researching a scoop that could upset the megacorps' plans for the planet.
So how is it? It's a big, thick book full of big, jaw-dropping ideas. A lot of science fiction books live and die by their characterization, and that's something that's pretty fun in this book. Destry and other ERT rangers have a lot of their personalities focused on ecology and the upkeep of their planet -- but if you'd spent a half-millennium working that job, it really wouldn't be unlikely that the environment would be something you'd think about a lot. And even then, most characters have little things to help differentiate them -- some of them are big into video games, some love dancing or visiting music clubs, some of them are very open about sex, and some hate talking about it at all.
And nonhumans tend to avoid the obvious stereotypes. Large herbivores like Whistle and Zest aren't particularly docile -- Whistle gets lovesick, and he undergoes a certain amount of angst that his status as a mount affects the way he can use language, and Zest is active and intelligent -- and coldly furious when she learns that Verdance has imported unintelligent cows to be used as food sources. Moose, a cat, is aloof and independent -- and that might be because he's a cat, and it might be because he's a reporter and generally operates solo. Robots and drones tend to be the characters who are most likely to have offbeat, cloudcuckoolander personalities -- and that includes an argumentative door in Spider City, and a drone that gave themselves the name of Hellfire&Crisp.
The least creatively imagined characters are the villains. Ronnie, Destry's and Misha's boss, is a murderous, vengeful corporate goon who's focused entirely on increasing her power within Verdance and is absolutely delighted to be playing the cartoon supervillain. And Cylindra, Ronnie's successor, is significantly worse than Ronnie while also being dumb as a fucking rock. They're interesting only because you're going to hate them with all your heart and because you will love watching their downfalls.
When it comes to the science in the science fiction, it's nearly always audacious and breathtaking. Terraforming a planet over the course of thousands of years? Amazing! Flying moose? Amazing! Flying, talking trains? Amazing! Skyscrapers grown like plants? Amazing! Naked mole rats with human-level intelligence who share a hivemind? Amazing! Worms with human-level intelligence? Amazing! (And just about the only thing that triggered my "Not bloody likely!" reaction.) But if we're talking about a story set almost 60,000 years in the future, I'd honestly be disappointed if there wasn't some really mind-blowing technology to marvel at.
Now is it possible to have a story set almost 60,000 years in the future and still have all the problems that bedevil people on Sask-E? Would we have fixed late-stage capitalism, or slavery, or political oppression, or tyranny? Well, maybe we would, and maybe we wouldn't, but Newitz didn't write this book to predict the future but to entertain and enlighten those of us living in the modern world. And of course, the best science fiction often uses tropes about the fantastic, about robots, the future, astounding science achievements, and the bizarre wonders of the cosmos, to talk about the present and the politics of our time. Margaret Atwood wrote (depressingly prophetically) about reproductive rights. Robert Heinlein wrote about libertarianism. Ursula K. Le Guin wrote about gender as a construct. Ray Bradbury wrote about censorship. Joe Haldeman wrote about the Vietnam War. Terry Pratchett wrote about, well, almost everything. And so Newitz writes here about uncontrolled capitalism, colonization, racism, the environment, and lots more besides. And she writes about them very, very well.
Do you love amazing, mind-blowing science fiction, featuring wild characters, big sci-fi ideas, and the kind of future you've always dreamed of and dreaded at the same time? This is something you'll probably love reading.