Decipher
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- ¥850
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- ¥850
発行者による作品情報
Ancient monuments all over the world - from the Pyramids of Giza, to Mexico, to the ancient sites of China - are also awakening, reacting to a brewing crisis not of this earth, connecting to each other in some kind of ancient global network. A small group of scientists is assembled to attempt to unravel the mystery. What they discover will change the world.
Imagine that 12,000 years ago it really did rain for 40 days and 40 nights. That storms reigned supreme. Imagine that survivors of human civilization really were forced to take to boats or hide out in caves on mountaintops. Then consider that these same myths from around the world predict this kind of devastation will occur time and again. What could cause such a catastrophe? What occurs in nature with such frightening and predictable regularity? A pulsar. But this is not just any pulsar - the ordinary type that pulses once a second, a minute, or even a week. This pulses once every 12,000 years and sends out a gravity wave of such ferocity it beggars belief. Not only that, it's closer than anybody has ever imagined. For it lives in our own backyard. It is the Sun.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In British screenwriter Pavlou's adolescent first novel, it's March 2012 and huge storms are raging around the globe, sparked by giant sunspots. The villainous U.S. Rola Corporation, drilling for desperately needed oil off Antarctica, discovers strange crystalline artifacts covered with a precuneiform script, while radiation detected under the antarctic ice portends the awakening of powerful alien forces. An unconvincing gaggle of scientists discovers they have only one unholy Holy Week to ship a nuclear device to Antarctica and bomb the underwater threat to smithereens. Pavlou builds his unlikely crescendo of Bad Things from nearly every major folklore, myth and religion, dizzyingly cutting between eye-popping disasters and eye-glazing capsule summaries of linguistics, geology, chemistry, mathematics, numerology, cryptology, archeology, ESP and Edgar Cayce. Stripped down to comic book proportions for the big screen, with a deafening soundtrack and a teenage audience anesthetized to a vocabulary largely dominated by four-letter clich s, this often gruesome tale might make a middling SF adventure flick. The often ludicrous dialogue and the ham-fisted handling of human relations and motivations, however, make for an unfocused novel, one patched together like Frankenstein, with every stitching line, every unnatural feature, unblushingly exposed to the most casual glance. (Sept. 20)
