I am Jura Mikulchev, though these days I answer just as readily to Vanja Spirin, a good deal younger, and arriving from a long way down the timeline. Here’s the twist: I didn’t invent the Mycorrhiza universe from that books, I lived in it. What reads as cyberpunk, space opera, hard SF, and biopunk is, from where I stand, eyewitness testimony, I was there, a contemporary of the heroes, before any of it made it onto paper.

My world is harsh and gritty, but always with a glimmer of hope, mystery, and biting Slavic humor, echoes of Borges and Bulgakov meet Adams and Pratchett. My books leave readers thinking two things: What did I just read? And what happens next?

Some things don’t change across timelines: I still love a good barbecue, good company, and heavy music, even if one of my regular dinner guests these days is an alien who tastes somewhere between octopus and Aldebaran crab.