Trafik

Ducournet (Brightfellow) dazzles with this whirlwind jaunt through a far-future universe, told in jargon-studded prose that turns gonzo science into gleeful lyricism. Mineral miner Quiver and her robot companion, Mic, “a deeply thoughtful gizmo” designed to keep Quiver from losing her mind in the lonely expanse of space, have only each other for company as they travel between jobs. When not cycling through fights and reconciliations over their human and robot foibles, Mic studies what little knowledge remains of a long-since destroyed Earth—reverently researching Al Pacino, Nikki Minaj, and Japanese culture—while Quiver escapes into a virtual reality that allows her to experience the wonders of nature—and where she keeps glimpsing a mysterious redhead. When their latest job goes awry, the pair flee and head to the planet Trafik. But to get there, they must brave a series of surreal worlds. The trek itself is delightfully absurd, but it’s in Quiver and Mic’s bittersweet, and often incomplete, remembrances of an Earth they never experienced that the novel finds its emotional center. Though the ending is abrupt and a hair too tidy and some of Quiver and Mic’s exchanges can be twee, overall their relationship is affecting, and each sentence is finely tuned. Ducournet remains a fantastic stylist. (Apr.)