In the Cold Light of Code is one of those rare sci-fi novels that understands its real job. It isn’t trying to predict the future so much as hold a mirror up to the present and quietly ask whether we recognize ourselves in the reflection.
Dahlia Amy is at the top of her game here. This book is delightful in its sharpness, dark in its implications, dangerous in the way it seduces the reader into complicity, and deeply thoughtful beneath the surface tension. Like all great science fiction, the technology is not the point. The point is us. The choices we’re making now. The comforts we’re prioritizing. The pain we’re trying to sand down until nothing sharp remains.
The questions this book asks linger long after the final page. Is consent meaningful when desire is programmed? What happens when we hand control to systems designed to please us? What does it say about a society that increasingly prefers curated intimacy, frictionless relationships, and emotional safety rails over the messy, uncomfortable experiences that force growth? The dating structures Dahlia imagines—apps optimized for novelty, relationships capped at three months so only the best parts are experienced—are chilling precisely because they feel plausible. They ask us to consider what is lost when struggle, compromise, and vulnerability are treated as bugs instead of features.
Most unsettling of all is the question threaded through the entire novel: why are we so intent on making AI more human? Is it empathy we’re reaching for—or escape? Are we trying to upgrade ourselves, or eliminate pain entirely? And if we succeed, what happens to meaning, agency, and desire when everything difficult has been engineered out?
This is a smart, unsettling, beautifully constructed book that trusts the reader to think. It doesn’t offer easy answers, and it shouldn’t. *In the Cold Light of Code* earns its place among the kind of science fiction that stays with you, not because of what it shows you about tomorrow, but because of what it reveals about today.