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Summary
Summary
The first novel from iconic X-Files star Gillian Anderson and New York Times bestselling author Jeff Rovin: a science fiction thriller of epic proportions.
Renowned child psychologist Caitlin O'Hara is a single mom trying to juggle her job, her son, and a lackluster dating life. Her world is suddenly upturned when Maanik, the daughter of India's ambassador to the United Nations, starts speaking in tongues and having violent visions. Caitlin is sure that her fits have something to do with the recent assassination attempt on her father--a shooting that has escalated nuclear tensions between India and Pakistan to dangerous levels--but when teenagers around the world start having similar outbursts, Caitlin begins to think that there's a more sinister force at work.
In Haiti, a student claws at her throat, drowning on dry land. In Iran, a boy suddenly and inexplicably sets himself on fire. Animals, too, are acting irrationally, from rats in New York City to birds in South America to ordinary house pets. With Asia on the cusp of nuclear war, Caitlin must race across the globe to uncover the mystical links among these seemingly unrelated incidents in order to save her patient--and perhaps the world.
Author Notes
Gillian Anderson is an award-winning film, television, and theater actor and producer, writer, and activist. She currently lives in London with her daughter and two sons.
Jeff Rovin is the author of more than one-hundred books, fiction and nonfiction, both under his own name, under various pseudonyms, or as a ghostwriter, including numerous New York Times bestsellers. He has written over a dozen Op-Center novels for the late Tom Clancy. Rovin has also written for television and has had numerous celebrity interviews published in magazines under his byline. He is a member of the Author's Guild, the Science Fiction Writers of America, and the Horror Writers of America, among others.
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Actress Anderson of X-Files fame makes her fiction debut with this gripping, well-written thriller, coauthored with genre veteran Rovin ( Vespers ). Ben Moss, an interpreter at the United Nations, asks a friend, Manhattan psychiatrist Caitlin O'Hara, if she can figure out what's bothering Maanik Pawar, the 16-year-old daughter of the Permanent Representative of India to the U.N. Maanik's father, Ganak, narrowly survived an assassination attempt on a Manhattan street, and while the teenager, who witnessed the shooting, initially seemed okay, she has begun injuring herself, screaming, and speaking in gibberish. The crisis at home threatens to have global implications since it distracts Ganak from focusing on nuclear saber-rattling centered on Kashmir. Caitlin soon finds that Maanik is not the only person to display such symptoms. Fans of Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child will find a lot to like. Agent: Doug Grad, Doug Grad Literary Agency. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Review
It's no surprise that the first novel, and first of a projected series, from actress Anderson (The X-Files, etc.) and collaborator Rovin (Conversations With the Devil, 2007, etc.) comes with a strong X-Files tang. A member of an enigmatic group steals a puzzling artifact recovered from beneath the south Atlantic waves. Meanwhile, as nuclear tensions between India and Pakistan ratchet up, India's United Nations ambassador Ganak Pawar narrowly survives an assassination attempt. His daughter, Maanik, who was at the scene and escaped unhurt, suddenly begins injuring herself, screaming uncontrollably and babbling in what seems to be an unknown tongue. U.N. translator Benjamin Moss calls in distinguished Manhattan child psychiatrist Caitlin O'Hara. She finds Maanik's symptoms bafflingespecially when Ben listens to her ravings and identifies elements of several wildly disparate languages. Then, in Iran, a boy suddenly and inexplicably sets himself on fire. In Haiti, a student apparently starts to drownon dry land. Rats occupy New York's Washington Square. And when Caitlin touches her patient, she experiences strange visions and feels an external presence. The professionally executed narrative moves the stock characters along at a briskly globe-hopping pace but offers no original elements, fresh perspective or innovative treatment. So what's behind all the obviously linked phenomenademons? Malevolent aliens? Ancient civilizations? Sinister conspiracies? Mystic powers? Savvy readers will get that sinking feeling when they begin to guess about halfway throughideas so threadbare they'd come close to the top of any fantasy or science fiction editor's "never write about this" list. Still, with that celebrity name on the cover, anything's possible. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
In X-Files actress Anderson's debut novel, Caitlin O'Hara is a child psychologist and trauma expert who is called in to assist when an ambassador's daughter demonstrates strange symptoms. When the girl's bizarre hand gestures, indecipherable language, and mysterious scrawled symbols turn out to be the same as those manifested by young people in Haiti and Iran, O'Hara suspects that larger, possibly sinister forces are at work. In a globe-spanning epic, Anderson and coauthor Rovin explore possible paranormal connections among people to depict a psychic trauma that spans both space and time. Anderson's reading of her own characters is the ideal way to experience this fast-paced narrative, which creates almost as many questions as it resolves by the time it draws to a close. The various accents she employs are fluid and believable; the listener is in excellent hands. VERDICT Recommended for thriller fans and those interested in dipping a toe into speculative fiction. ["This sf thriller's first half does pack a lot of tension as Caitlin travels from New York to Haiti to Iran in pursuit of answers," read the review of the Simon451: S. & S. hc, LJ 9/15/14.]-Anna Mickelsen, Springfield City Lib., MA (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
A Vision of Fire PROLOGUE Rocking gently under the full moon, the Falkland Advanced Petroleum survey ship rested in the harbor at Stanley. Its hull was weather-beaten after three weeks at sea, its sensitive below-deck sensors were rattled by the relentless waves, and its chief geologist was exhausted. But as he bent over the tiny lab table in his forward cabin, Dr. Sam Story could not stop staring at a rock the remote-controlled Deep Sea Grab Vehicle had pulled from a ledge on their last day in the South Atlantic. The silvery stone fit in his palm and was roughly the shape and thickness of a playing card. He had been studying it for more than an hour through a magnifying glass, slowly moving the lens up and down and side to side; the fifty-three-year-old geologist was finding it difficult to accept what he was seeing. Finally, the man sat upright on the stool, blinked his tired eyes, and thumbed on a small audio recorder. "Specimen E-thirty-three," he intoned cautiously, "definitely appears to be a pallasite meteor fragment. And it is my observation that chipping marks on the back indicate it was hewn from the parent stone by hand. However . . ." He gently set the stone on a cotton swath he'd placed on the table and pulled off his latex gloves. The relic had been washed by frigid waters for centuries, perhaps millennia, and rough surfaces and body oils might cause further damage. Dr. Story looked down at the stone again and studied the symbol that gently shone from it. "On the anterior façade is a carving of four triangular shapes arranged in a pyramid," he recorded. "Each triangle is formed by three interlocking crescents, with small, extended crescents at the three corners. More of a claw or talon shape, actually, those small ones. No claws at the corners of the center triangle. I cannot begin to guess at the meaning or function of this." He bent low, peering at the stone. "Regarding process, the width and depth of the markings suggest they were carved by a smaller, finer tool than that which made the relic itself. While there existed any number of local tribes that could have cut these figures, the edges of the markings themselves are a real mystery." Picking up the magnifying glass again, he murmured, "Every side of every etching has a rounded perimeter that suggests eons of erosion. Yet these edges are not worn down uniformly but are built up, like blisters. Blisters like these could only be generated by intense heat, Class D at a minimum, and ancient peoples did not have the wherewithal to generate twenty-one hundred degrees Fahrenheit." Dr. Story sat upright, picked up the recorder, and grinned. The modern device felt strange and inconsequential in his hand. This relatively sophisticated by-product of human invention was dramatically less interesting than a simple stone pulled by chance from the ocean. No, he corrected himself, this is not simple. Volcanic magma could reach that level of heat, but even that was uncommon. By the time lava reached the surface, it was closer to fifteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit. He had only seen this kind of melting and hardening on meteoric rocks that softened and bubbled during their flaming passage through the atmosphere and hardened when they reached the cooler surface, free of friction. "But that doesn't explain how the carvings melted," he mumbled into the recorder. "They couldn't have come through the atmosphere. That would mean they had to originate in . . ." Dr. Story was tired. He had been awake for nearly forty-eight hours. Before he considered the implications that the evidence suggested, he needed rest. Turning off the desk lamp, he fell into the small bed that folded down from the wall. The gentle rocking in the harbor was a balm after twenty-one days at sea. Despite a sudden thumping on the hull beneath the water--possibly a pilot whale; the cetaceans had shown a surprising tendency to beach themselves of late--the scientist was asleep within moments. The door opened and a figure entered the room. He moved quietly, cautiously. The rocking of the boat was unpredictable and he did not want to fall against the desk or the bed. The man laid an empty camera case on the floor. Guided by the light of the moon through a porthole, he quickly gathered up the tablet and the audio recorder. He swaddled the small piece of rock in its cotton wrap and placed it in the camera case. And then he was gone, headed away from the public jetty. Dropping the two electronic devices into the water, he watched their gurgling descent in the ivory moonlight, then continued toward the Malvina House Hotel. Excerpted from A Vision of Fire by Gillian Anderson, Jeff Rovin All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.