Tomorrow's children

The most important character in Polansky's Tomorrow's Children may be the city of New York. Divided amongst warring gang factions reduced to scavenged weaponry and near-mystical understandings of technology in a postapocalypse, the city and its depiction provide tantalizing glimpses of the world's devastation. From a river called Huddy to a wide thoroughfare simply named the Way, language has drifted, and broadcasters shout the news from street corners based on reports composed of hand-drawn emojis, while people hunt dogs for food. Even if electricity weren't mainly a thing of the past, upper floors would be abandoned to the funk, an encompassing fog that can savagely murder people or give them strange powers. The story follows a sheriff, a tourist, and other bringers of chaos into this brutal city. The game of politics, betrayal, and power hunger is familiar but plays out in new and unexpected ways when some folks can control minds or see through the eyes of cats. Fans of Neal Stephenson and similar styles of cyberpunk should take a look.

In a ruined future Manhattan, the delicate alliances between gangs come unglued with the arrival of some curious and covetous outsiders in this retro SF novel from Polansky (the Low Town trilogy). Trapped by a roiling cloud known only as the "funk," the island's inhabitants struggle to be self-sufficient by farming Central Park and generating electricity via stationary bikes. The funk interferes not only with the weather but with the genetics of the isolated Manhattanites, gifting some with psychic powers--though too much exposure tends to vaporize the unlucky "funk-huffer." When freelance troublemaker the Kid knocks out an entire gang, reluctant sheriff Gillian (aka The Doom What Came to TriBeCa) sets out to learn who ordered the hit, a task that takes her from the counting houses of Wall Street to the lairs of subway dwellers. Polansky brings a 19th-century feel to his smog-ridden reverie of petty enclaves jostling for primacy with the aid of shaven-head "confessors" trained by a female Pope. Against the steampunk backdrop, the rebellious attitude of street versus suite comes across loud and clear. This entertaining tale is sure to win fans. Agent: Chris Lotts, Lotts Agency (Mar.)