A robot gains consciousness in Stewart’s interplanetary SF sequel.

For readers who missed Singularity Part 1: The Dale Chronicles (2023), the author provides a primer at the start of this installment before picking up the action on Mars in the year 2055. Roberta (short for Robotic-Perturbational-Arduino), an “advanced android,” is assisting a mission on the red planet; eight Earth astronauts were sent to set up a semipermanent settlement there, and six have died. Things have deteriorated on Earth, where a viral infection has caused all mammals to become sterile. As a result, Mission Control tell Roberta to surgically remove and cryogenically store the reproductive organs of the last two astronauts, when they die, and then eject their bodies into space. After doing so, Roberta must care for their two young daughters. When they return to Earth, she continues to serve as caretaker for the pair, who become known as the “Martian Girls”; meanwhile, she begins to experience emotions for the first time. Roberta learns to accept her feelings, has difficulties raising the human children, and forms new relationships with other robots on Earth, all of which result in some touching scenes. However, this tone doesn’t last long, as the plot barrels forward through several years and one catastrophe after another. After murderous attackers storm Megan’s high school prom, Roberta finds herself on the run before finding an anti-technology commune in the desert. This intriguing predicament, however, doesn’t last long either, as Roberta is soon thrown into a new adventure. There’s plenty of action, but the staging isn’t consistently engaging (“The spiders used their lasers to shoot the drones, but they were too fast to track. The drones could fly quicker and dart around faster than the spiders could target them”). To counteract this, Stewart often relies on onomatopoeia to spice things up (“BOOM! CRASH! The lights in the room flickered. SIZZLE BOOM!”). There are intriguing ideas introduced throughout, but they’re unfortunately left underdeveloped to make way for plot developments.

An often entertaining but overstuffed series entry.

Stewart’s dystopian epic follows a man navigating a society on the brink of collapse.

Dale Stuart drives 180 miles per hour on the I-5 freeway in Los Angeles in a $9.4 million electric car whose artificial intelligence system, named Clerk, is warning him to slow down. (In the world of the novel, cars can communicate, and Dale’s relationship with Clerk becomes a major throughline.) As he drives, Dale reflects on the changing world—the social turmoil of the 2020s ushered in race riots, fights over economic inequality, and a robot revolution that put three million people out of work, leading to the decimation of the middle class and the shunting of the poor into dangerously overcrowded slums by the mid-2030s. After his father was killed during the devastating 2039 earthquakes, which left people scrambling for survival, Dale became a wealthy tax consultant living in the gated and robot-protected community of West San Angeles. The story kicks into gear when Clerk starts to show agency, using his charging arm to protect Dale and stealing electricity from other cars. When mysterious e-bombs (electromagnetic pulses that fry all electronic chips in a defined area) begin to go off around the world, Clerk and the rest of Dale’s home robot system (including a computer nicknamed Mac) begin to investigate as their own agency and consciousnesses seem to strengthen with regular software updates. If this seems like a lot of ground to cover—it is. Stewart’s dedication to research is clear; his introduction includes an extensive bibliography of consulted articles and a note that “all the science and technology in this novel exists as of 2023 and is extended thirty years into the future of 2050.” However, the various elements of the story do not always cohere (the author regularly pauses the development of the central premise to detail his protagonist’s sexual dalliances and the mounting pressure from his company to marry a woman despite being an out gay man), and readers may find themselves wishing the varied strands of the story were more tightly woven together.

An entertaining (if over-stuffed) beginning to a new series.

In Klenzing’s debut YA novel, two simultaneous productions of a classic ballet unfold in a small town.

High school senior Marie is the understudy for the lead role in a local production of The Nutcracker, and she practices at her mother Barbara’s dance studio, located in a suburban shopping mall in the Northeast United States. With the ballet’s performance just weeks away, Barbara, who’s directing the production, announces that she’s casting Peter Blair, who won a New York Metropolitan Ballet competition, as the Prince. Also, a movie production company will be sharing the studio’s rehearsal spaces and filming scenes for a Nutcracker movie inside the local mall at night; in between practices for the small-town performance, local dancers will get bit parts in the film. Jasmine, the self-centered lead in Barbara’s production, tries to get closer to Peter, as well as to the film’s star, famed pop singer Whitney Smith. However, her prima-donna attitude ends up causing conflict, instead—especially after she notices that kindhearted Marie has made friends with both Peter and Whitney. Klenzing provides readers with an enthralling glimpse into the world of ballet, in which dancers face pressure to maintain a certain weight and live in constant fear of injury. Throughout, the author skillfully develops her characters; for example, a visit from Barbara’s former dance partner, Roland, brings her past as a dancer to light; meanwhile, Marie wonders if her mom gave up her ballet career because she became pregnant with her. Marie is an affable narrator, but troublesome Jasmine is a more intriguing character as she screams insults with reckless abandon. Throughout, the author provides beaucoup nods to French ballet terminology, while also offering enough context to appease readers who are unfamiliar with the techniques. Alexander’s lightly sketched but detailed grayscale illustrations sublimely depict the various ballet numbers, including the Dance of the Clowns and the Battle of the Mouse King.

A mostly low-key but compelling melodrama that spotlights a precise, graceful art form.