Adrian Tchaikovsky, Green City Wars. Tor Publishing Group. 2026. ISBN: 978-1-250-29033-5. $28.99.

I follow Adrian Tchaikovsky on Bluesky so I’d preordered Green City Wars months in advance. I’m certain I would have picked it up if I’d spotted it on the New Fiction table at Powell’s, though. The outstanding cover designed by Shreya Gupta and executed by Chris Koehler catches the eye immediately. Raccoon in a fedora moving in silhouette across a nighttime cityscape? Count me in.

Skotch, the raccoon in question, has augmented intelligence and physical skills. He received that treatment to make him one of the Little Helpers, the army of animals that do the grunt work of bussing tables, collecting trash, and maintaining the infrastructure of a near-future city Neuwie, the reconstituted Vienna, Austria. The Little Helpers are managed by Uzco and, as long as they remain in good standing they receive regular doses of Plangent. Going without means their intelligence swiftly disappears.

Not a good fit for the corporate life, Skotch has gone freelance as a private investigator. And with freelancing being what it is, he faces regular shortages of both buttons (currency) and Plangent. Those shortages give his former employer Uzco the leverage to convince our raccoon PI to find an augmented mouse.

In Neuwien, mice are at the bottom of the Little Helper social hierarchy and used as the baseline for Mausgelt, the number of buttons one must pay to wipe the slate clean after a death. A mouse is worth one Mausgelt, meaning that if you kill a mouse you can pay one button to have the offended party, whether family, clan, or corporation, set the matter aside. The mouse in question is special, of course, and multiple parties want to lay their paws on him. Skotch’s job is to manage those opposing forces while saving the mouse and his own pelt.

Tchaikovsky builds an intriguing world with sly references to Flowers for Algernon, dramas such as Downton Abbey and Upstairs/Downstairs, and science fiction classics from the 1970s that I don’t want to spoil for you. His commentary on the plight of the serving class through the lens of animals as Little Helpers cuts neatly into contemporary society and critiques the assumptions and goals of technology leaders.

And did I mention Skotch’s investigations begin as red and gray squirrels are about to renew large-scale hostilities?

I loved Green City Wars and recommend it without reservation.

Roland Betancourt, Disneyland and the Rise of Automation. Princeton University Press. 2026. ISBN: 978-0-691-25587-3. $35.00.

Roland Betancourt’s newest book Disneyland and the Rise of Automation, published by Princeton University Press, makes valuable contributions to industrial history and Disney studies. Theme parks in general, and Disney properties in particular, offer fertile ground for analyses at the intersection of automation and entertainment.

Disney studies has taken off in academia, leading to the launch of the International Journal of Disney Studies and numerous books including Why the Magic Matters: Discovering Disney as a Laboratory for Learning, an edited volume from Bloomsbury. Betancourt’s exploration of how Disney incorporated industrial technology into its theme parks positions the theme park as a factory, relating it directly to post-World War II automation and the development of operations research to optimize those processes. As with social media companies, traffic matters—the more efficiently you can move people through your attractions the more money you make and the more data you can collect.

After setting the analytical frame, Disneyland and the Rise of Automation builds a chronological history of technologies and techniques used to build Disney attractions, such as servomechanisms used on the assembly line Ford Motor Company’s River Rouge plant, through computerized programmable logic controllers used in contemporary systems. This analysis offers significant value to industrial and Disney historians, in no small measure because of Betancourt’s attention to detail and the bountiful historical record from Disney publications, employee recollections, and patent filings the author incorporates into the text.

Walt Disney viewed his parks as a form of edutainment, offering a glimpse into the workings of the parks’ attractions. Automata such as those used in The Hall of Presidents are one example, but putting attraction control systems in full view rather than hiding them behind set pieces is another. This effort to “denude” the technology of its mystery normalizes its place in popular culture and offers at least the appearance of accessibility and comprehensibility.

As someone who’s interested in the intersection of technology and society, I enjoyed Disneyland and the Rise of Automation. It’s not meant for a general audience but the broad interest in Disney studies and ongoing business and societal focus on efficiency through operations research expands its audience well beyond academic specialists. Highly recommended.