Here’s a meeting of titans from the world of fiction if ever there was one. It’s one of Michael Crichton’s many posthumously published novels (he evidently kept copious notes on intended future projects), his estate asking one-man novel factory James Patterson to finish it.
We’ll never know how much of the actual prose has come from each author. Crichton was the master of spinning a technothriller out of a simple, impactful concept (nanotechnology, a spaceborne virus, etc), building a world and populating it with easy-to-read characters, where Patterson is more of a by-the-page thriller writer.
So their combined strengths make this a very propulsive read you’ll breeze through while still understanding some high minded concepts from the world of vulcanology.
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