Three recent science fiction and fantasy novels feature chronologies that move backward, forward and sideways in time.

Matt Ruff, author of "Set This House in Order" and "Bad Monkeys," sets his audacious new novel, The Mirage (Harper; 418 pages; $25.99), in the wake of 11/9/2001, when Christian fundamentalists hijacked four jetliners and rammed two into the Tigris & Euphrates World Trade Towers in Baghdad.

Eight years after that world-shattering event, Arab Homeland Security agent Mustafa al Baghadi interrogates a would-be suicide bomber who claims that they are all living in an illusion. He claims that the United States is the true superpower, while the union of Arab states is merely "a bunch of backward third-world countries that no one would care about except for oil."

Mustafa has a hard time believing that hypothesis, but as he and his team become embroiled with a local gangster, Saddam Hussein, and Osama bin Laden, the sinister head of the Senate Intelligence Committee, the theory begins to take on weight.

Ruff cleverly uses excerpts from a supposed Library of Alexandria wiki to provide exposition about key characters and events, but he also knows how to world-build through more subtle methods. "The Mirage" is studded throughout with delicious little alternate-world ironies concerning the war on terror and its various participants. Ruff never loses control of the plot, however, nor of the more serious themes that power his satire. "The Mirage" is a topsy-turvy tour de force, another winner from a truly inventive and unpredictable storyteller.

Nancy Kress skips back and forth along her novel's timeline in After the Fall, Before the Fall and During the Fall (Tachyon; 192 pages; $14.95; trade paperback).

In 2035, a handful of human survivors live in the Shell, protected from the ecological devastation that lies outside. At irregular intervals, the younger members of this group are able to use alien technology to jump back into the past, retrieve supplies from stores and, most importantly, kidnap babies and toddlers who can grow up and add to humankind's devastated genetic diversity.

Meanwhile, back in 2013, mathematician Julie Kahn begins to build a predictive model for a baffling series of grocery store break-ins, while keeping another eye on a series of unsettling ecological disturbances around the globe. After she becomes pregnant by her married lover, her quest for answers becomes increasingly personal.

Kress, author of "Beggars in Spain" and "Probability Space," does an admirable job of orchestrating the three narrative strands in this short, tense novel. Some readers will quibble with the revelation regarding the origins of the Fall, but taken on its own terms, "After the Fall ..." is a meaty, thought-provoking addition to the recent bumper crop of postapocalyptic literature.

Stephen King's gargantuan Dark Tower saga rolled to a stop in 2004, but there is apparently still enough gas left in the tank to propel a new chapter at this late date.

The central action in The Wind Through the Keyhole (Scribner; 310 pages; $27) takes place between the fourth and fifth volumes of the main sequence of fantasy novels and finds Roland the Gunslinger and his compatriots trapped by a deadly ice storm. Usually the most taciturn of protagonists, Roland spins a tale of an early adventure he had when he was sent to track down a "skin-man," a shape-shifter preying upon some hapless farmers and miners.

Roland's story, in turn, contains another tale, that of Tim Ross, the young son of a dragon-killed ironwood cutter. Goaded by a mysterious, fiendish tax collector who knows more than he shares, Tim sets off in search of a magical remedy after his brutal stepfather blinds his mother. His journey takes him into mortal danger far from home and demands every bit of his ingenuity, bravery and luck.

"The Wind Through the Keyhole" succeeds in recapturing the best aspects of the long, drawn-out Dark Tower sequence. Each nested narrative delivers its fair share of suspense, action and solid character work. King knows this fictional universe intimately, and his love for it shines through every page.

In fact, this new, slim Dark Tower novel might tempt you to go back and start rereading the whole, ultimately problematic megillah again. But don't give in. Pretend that's the devil - or someone like him - whispering in your ear.

Michael Berry is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer.