Micro: A Novel

Micro: A Novel

Michael Crichton

Language: English

Pages: 560

ISBN: 0060873175

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In the vein of Jurassic Park, this high-concept thriller follows a group of graduate students lured to Hawaii to work for a mysterious biotech company—only to find themselves cast out into the rain forest, with nothing but their scientific expertise and wits to protect them. An instant classic, Micro pits nature against technology in vintage Crichton fashion. Completed by visionary science writer Richard Preston, this boundary-pushing thriller melds scientific fact with pulse-pounding fiction to create yet another masterpiece of sophisticated, cutting-edge entertainment.

Pedigree (New York Review Books Classics)

Hobbled

Black Box

Pinhole

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

me. The micro-drones couldn’t smell me, couldn’t launch missiles at me because I was swimming under the waves. I made it to Honolulu and went into hiding. If I had surfaced and gone to the police, Drake would have hunted me down with more micro-drones. Vin Drake is drunk on the power of his bots.” Eric sighed, and paused, and in the silence another voice spoke: “That was an excellent description of me, Eric. I enjoyed it thoroughly.” A small, bright light went on, and Vincent Drake stood up

supposed to.” “I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t want to get mixed up in any police thing.” Peter waited a few minutes, then heard the man say, “You can come out, son.” He came out from behind the hull. There was no sign of Alyson in the yard. The heavyset man looked at him quizzically, head cocked to one side. “Didn’t want to run into her?” “We don’t get along,” Peter said. “I figured.” “You want me to sign in?” The man nodded slowly. “Yes, please.” So Peter went into the office and

off a poisonous snake, but a wasp sting would be one of them.” “Damn clever,” Amar said. “Snakes rely more on smell than sight anyway. And the krait’s nocturnal…” “It worked. It thought I was a wasp.” “Yes, but the substance is very volatile, Peter.” “Meaning it will evaporate.” “It is, as we speak.” “Great. I’m not a wasp anymore.” “Not for long.” “How much time would you say?” he said. “I don’t know. Minutes.” “What can we do?” Karen King said, “How are your reflexes?” “Shot.” He

station quickly, as a raiding column of ants could show up at any moment. The tent, stocked with various boxes, sat atop a concrete floor. In the center of the floor, there was a round steel hatch. The steel hatch was operated with a wheel lock, like a bulkhead door of a submarine. Peter Jansen spun the wheel and lifted up the hatch. A ladder went down into darkness. “I’ll check it out.” He put the headlamp on his head and switched it on, and descended the ladder. He ended up standing in the

and forth in zigzags over her nest, then settled lower, searching for the mud chimney of her burrow. Within moments she had registered that her chimney had been smashed. Her nest had been damaged and invaded. There was an intruder. Danny Minot wrapped himself around the rock, hiding under the plant, trying to make himself as rocklike or plantlike as possible. “You idiot!” he whispered to Karen. He’d been left alone in the micro-world. The mother landed, carrying the caterpillar. Vibrating her

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