Sure, it was a rough hundred years for the planet: the seas rose ten feet in the two-thousand-fifties, then forty feet more around 2100, and billions of people died. New York may be underwater, but it’s better than ever. This is the vision of the city in “ New York 2140,” a science-fiction novel by Kim Stanley Robinson, out last month. The poor live downtown, in Chelsea, which is half-submerged. The super-rich live uptown, in a forest of skyscrapers near the Cloisters. Workers in an inflatable raft are repairing the Flatiron dock a superintendent, in diving gear, is checking his buildings for leaks. Out on the canal, finance guys in speedboats weave between the bigger ships. Morning commuters are boarding a crosstown vaporetto. At Twenty-sixth and Park, the waves shine in the sunlight, and the breeze is briny with seaweed.
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