Meru

I’ll admit, I went into *Meru* expecting a high-octane space thriller, but what I got was something far more interesting—and occasionally frustrating. Divya’s strength lies in her ability to weave hard science (the genetics and propulsion systems feel *plausible*, not just hand-wavy) with deeply personal stakes. The protagonist, a pilot named Viji, is a compelling mess of ambition and self-doubt, and her dynamic with her ship’s AI, Meru, is one of the best human-machine relationships I’ve encountered in sci-fi. The audiobook shines brightest in these quieter moments, where Deepa Samuel’s performance—particularly her ability to shift between Viji’s weary cynicism and Meru’s eerie, almost childlike curiosity—elevates the material. That said, the pacing is *uneven*. The first third drags as Divya lays groundwork for the world’s politics and tech, and while I appreciate the depth, I found myself wishing for more momentum. The middle act, however, is where *Meru* soars: a heist-like sequence involving a high-stakes genetic cargo run had me white-knuckling my headphones. My other critique? The ending feels a touch rushed, like Divya had one too many thematic threads to tie up. Still, Samuel’s narration keeps even the denser exposition engaging, and the audiobook’s production—subtle ambient sounds during space scenes, a clean mix—never distracts. If you’re a fan of sci-fi that challenges as much as it entertains, and you don’t mind a slow burn, this is a standout. Just don’t expect easy answers—or a neat landing.