Timeline

Zusatztext COMPULSIVE READING . . . BRILLIANTLY IMAGINED. Los Angeles Times THE PRESENT AND THE LONG-AGO PAST COLLIDE. . . . [as] three young historians whisk themselves back to fourteenth-century feudal France to rescue a friendand engulf themselves in all manner of mind-blowing intrigue. Chicago Sun-Times [A] BIG ROLLICKING BOOK. The Wall Street Journal EXCITING . . . CLASSIC ADVENTURE . . . [A] SWASHBUCKLING NOVEL . . . CRICHTON DELIVERS. USA Today Informationen zum Autor Michael Crichton was born in Chicago, in 1942. His novels include The Andromeda Strain , The Great Train Robbery , Congo , Jurassic Park , Rising Sun , Disclosure , The Lost World , and Airframe . He is also the creator of the television series ER . Klappentext In an Arizona desert a man wanders in a daze, speaking words that make no sense. Within twenty-four hours he is dead, his body swiftly cremated by his only known associates. Halfway around the world archaeologists make a shocking discovery at a medieval site. Suddenly they are swept off to the headquarters of a secretive multinational corporation that has developed an astounding technology. Now this group is about to get a chance not to study the past but to enter it. And with history opened to the present, the dead awakened to the living, these men and women will soon find themselves fighting for their very survival-six hundred years ago. . . .He should never have taken that shortcut. Dan Baker winced as his new Mercedes S500 sedan bounced down the dirt road, heading deeper into the Navajo reservation in northern Arizona. Around them, the landscape was increasingly desolate: distant red mesas to the east, flat desert stretching away in the west. They had passed a village half an hour earlier- dusty houses, a church and a small school, huddled against a cliff- but since then, they´d seen nothing at all, not even a fence. Just empty red desert. They hadn´t seen another car for an hour. Now it was noon, the sun glaring down at them. Baker, a forty-year old building contractor in Phoenix, was beginning to feel uneasy. Especially since his wife, an architect, was one of those artistic people who wasn´t practical about things like gas and water. His tank was half-empty. And the car was starting to run hot. "Liz," he said, "are you sure this is the way?" Sitting beside him, his wife was bent over the map, tracing the route with his finger. "It has to be," she said. "The guide-book said four miles beyond the Corazon Canyon turnoff." "But we passed Corazon Canyon twenty minutes ago. We must have missed it." "How could we miss the trading post?" she said. "I don´t know." Baker stared at the road ahead. "But there´s nothing out here. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we can get great Navajo rugs in Sedona. They sell al kinds of rugs in Sedona." "Sedona," she sniffed, "is not authentic." "Of coarse it´s authentic, honey. A rug is a rug." "Weaving." "Okay." He sighed. "A weaving." "And no, it´s not the same," she said. "Those Sedona stores carry tourist junk- they´re acrylic, not wool. I want the weavings that they sell on the reservation. And supposedly the trading post has an old Sandpainting weaving from the twenties, by Hosteen Klah. And I want it." "Okay Liz." Personally, Baker didn´t see why they needed another Navajo rug-weaving- anyway. They already had two dozen. She had them all over the house. And packed away in closets, too. They drove on in silence. The road ahead shimmered in the heat so it looked like a silver lake. And there were mirages, houses or people rising up on the road, but always when you came closer, ...

“COMPULSIVE READING . . . BRILLIANTLY IMAGINED.”
–Los Angeles Times*

• “THE PRESENT AND THE LONG-AGO PAST COLLIDE. . . . [as] three young historians whisk themselves back to fourteenth-century feudal France to rescue a friend–and engulf themselves in all manner of mind-blowing intrigue.”
  –Chicago Sun-Times*

• “[A] BIG ROLLICKING BOOK.”
  *–The Wall Street Journal

• “EXCITING . . . CLASSIC ADVENTURE . . . [A] SWASHBUCKLING NOVEL . . . CRICHTON DELIVERS.”
  *–USA Today

Auteur

Michael Crichton was born in Chicago, in 1942. His novels include The Andromeda Strain, The Great Train Robbery, Congo, Jurassic Park, Rising Sun, Disclosure, The Lost World, and Airframe. He is also the creator of the television series ER.

Texte du rabat

In an Arizona desert a man wanders in a daze, speaking words that make no sense. Within twenty-four hours he is dead, his body swiftly cremated by his only known associates. Halfway around the world archaeologists make a shocking discovery at a medieval site. Suddenly they are swept off to the headquarters of a secretive multinational corporation that has developed an astounding technology. Now this group is about to get a chance not to study the past but to enter it. And with history opened to the present, the dead awakened to the living, these men and women will soon find themselves fighting for their very survival-six hundred years ago. . . .

Échantillon de lecture
He should never have taken that shortcut.

Dan Baker winced as his new Mercedes S500 sedan bounced down the dirt road, heading deeper into the Navajo reservation in northern Arizona.  Around them, the landscape was increasingly desolate: distant red mesas to the east, flat desert stretching away in the west.  They had passed a village half an hour earlier- dusty houses, a church and a small school, huddled against a cliff- but since then, they'd seen nothing at all, not even a fence.  Just empty red desert.  They hadn't seen another car for an hour.  Now it was noon, the sun glaring down at them.  Baker, a forty-year old building contractor in Phoenix, was beginning to feel uneasy.  Especially since his wife, an architect, was one of those artistic people who wasn't practical about things like gas and water.  His tank was half-empty.  And the car was starting to run hot.  

        "Liz," he said, "are you sure this is the way?"
        Sitting beside him, his wife was bent over the map, tracing the route with his finger.  "It has to be," she said.  "The guide-book said four miles beyond the Corazon Canyon turnoff."
        "But we passed Corazon Canyon twenty minutes ago.  We must have missed it."
        "How could we miss the trading post?" she said.
        "I don't know." Baker stared at the road ahead.  "But there's nothing out here.  Are you sure you want to do this?  I mean, we can get great Navajo rugs in Sedona.  They sell al kinds of rugs in Sedona."
        "Sedona," she sniffed, "is not authentic."
        "Of coarse it's authentic, honey.  A rug is a rug."
        "Weaving."
        "Okay." He sighed.  "A weaving."
        "And no, it's not the same," she said.  "Those Sedona stores carry tourist junk- they're acrylic, not wool.  I want the weavings that they sell on the reservation.  And supposedly the trading post has an old Sandpainting weaving from the twenties, by Hosteen Klah.  And I want it."
"Okay Liz."  Personally, Baker didn't see why they needed another Navajo rug-weaving- anyway.  They already had two dozen.  She …