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It turned up in a North Dakota wheat field: a triangle, like a shark's fin, sticking up from the black loam. Tom Lasker did what any farmer would have done. He dug it up. And discovered a boat, made of a fiberglass-like material with an utterly impossible atomic number. What it was doing buried under a dozen feet of prairie soil two thousand miles from any ocean, no one knew. True, Tom Lasker's wheat field had once been on the shoreline of a great inland sea, but that was a long time ago — ten thousand years ago.
A return to science fiction on a grand scale, reminiscent of the best of Heinlein, Simak, and Clarke, Ancient Shores is the most ambitious and exciting SF triumph of the decade, a bold speculative adventure that does not shrink from the big questions — and the big answers.
Buried 12 feet below Tom Lasker's North Dakota wheat field is a 42-foot fiberglass sailboat, complete with microwave oven. After digging it up, Tom makes the additional discovery of an object that serves as a doorway to another world--a find that will draw a far-flung collection of people with conflicting motives to the small community.
From familiar components, McDevitt (The Engines of God, 1994, etc.) has fashioned a solidly engrossing tale that, despite some plot wobbles, brims with low-key attractions.
"If that ain't the damnedest thing. " Tom Lasker had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. Will paused with his spade full of black earth to see what had drawn his father's attention.
A triangular plate, not unlike a shark's fin, stuck out of the ground. it was tough. Metal, apparently, but not corroded.
They were on the low ridge that bordered the west side of the farm, working late under a string of lightbulbs, trying to put in a system that would pump water uphill from the well. Lasker played his flashlight over the object, and Will pushed at it with the tip of his boot. The night smelled of approaching winter. A cold wind chopped across the rise and shook the lights. Lasker knelt and brushed the soil away with gloved fingers. The object was bright red. Smooth and hard. When he pulled, it had no give.
The house was about a quarter-mile away, a two-story frame building set back in a thick growth of trees. Its lights were warm and cheerful.
The fin was attached to a rod of the same color and texture, all of a piece. It angled down into the soil at thirty degrees. Will wedged his spade under it, and they tried to lever it up. it wobbled but wouldn't come loose. "On three," said Lasker.
He did the count, and they yanked together, lost their balance, and fell laughing over each other. "That'senough for tonight, Pop," said Will. "Let's go eat."
The Pembina Escarpment was visible through the bedroom windows of Tom Lasker's house. The escarpment consisted of a line of rounded hills and ridges and jutting rocks, a fairly impressive feature on land that was otherwise pool-table flat. Ten thousand years ago it had been the western shore of an inland sea that covered large areas of the Dakotas, Minnesota, Manitoba, and Saskatchewan. The spot where the house now stood would have been several hundred feet underwater.
Lasker was a big man: awkward, with thinning brown hair and wide shoulders. His features were sharp, raw-edged, carved by too many unforgiving winters. He'd lived his entire life in the Fort Moxie area. He thought of himself as basically uninteresting, just a farmer who worked hard, didn't socialize too much, and took care of his family. He was happily married, his two sons seemed to be developing into reasonable adults, and he enjoyed flying. Like many of the local farmers, he had a pilot's license, and he owned a Katana DV-20. He also owned a World War II-era Navy Avenger and was a member of the Confederate Air Force -- a group of enthusiasts dedicated to restoring antique warbirds.
Shortly after dawn on the morning following the find, he and Will were back atop the slope. October on the northern plains tends to be bleak and cold. This day was typical. Lasker was half buried in his down jacket, not having yet worked up enough sweat to shed it.
The fin stuck several inches out of the ground, mounted on a support pole about two inches thick. Lasker was thinking about the damage it might have done had he run a tractor over it.
Will sank his spade into the earth. "Well," he said, "let's get rid of it." He turned the soil over, and even this late in the season it was heavy and sweet.
The air was still. A blue jay sat on a fence rail, watching, and Lasker felt good about the world. The shark fin interested him. Hard to imagine what it was or how it had come to be buried on land his family had owned for sixty years. More important, it provided a temporary puzzle that bound him a little closer to his son.
How deep did the pole go? He measured off a few feet in a straight line from its point of entry and began throwing up soil in his methodical way. Will joined in, and after a while they struck metal. The pole was at least six feet long. They continued digging until Will had to leave for school. Then Lasker went into the house, had some coffee and toast, and came back for another go. He was still working on it when Ginny called him for lunch.
She came back with him afterward to see what the fuss was about. Ginny was tall, clever, a product of Chicago who had come to North Dakota as a customs inspector, with the primary objective of getting away from urban life. She'd fallen in love quickly with this guy, who in turn had started making trips to Canada, hoping she would clear him when he returned. Sometimes he'd even bought things, stuff he could pay duty on. She remembered the first time he'd tried that approach: He'd spent thirty dollars in a Winnipeg bookstore for a history of Canadian aviation and had clearly been disappointed when she'd waved him through because books were free of duty.
His friends had tried to warn him away from Ginny. She'll get tired of the harsh winters, they'd said. And small-town life. Eventually she'll go back to Chicago. They'd talked about Chicago more or less in the tone they'd have used for Pluto. But twenty years had passed, and she was still here. And she and Tom thrived on snowy nights and roaring fires.
"Is it creating a problem?" she asked, puzzled, standing over the trench that Lasker had dug around the thing. It was about six feet deep, and a ladder stuck out of it.
"Not really."
Ancient Shores. Copyright © by Jack McDevitt. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.Anonymous
Posted July 9, 2002
This book starts with a strong SF premise. The early chapters are riveting as the protagonists discover just how extraordinary is the boat unearthed on a North Dakota farm. Unfortunately, the book lets us down; at least it didn't live up to my expectations. It's fine to describe the diverse reactions of Americans to this sensational discovery, but that's almost all that goes on here. We long to encounter the aliens who left this artifact, or at least gets some glimpse of their purpose. We yearn to explore the new world opened by the Roundhouse. Alas, none of that ever happens. This becomes merely a study of human sociology. Maybe that's the only story the author wants to tell. On the other hand, if he has devoted a whole volume to setting up a sequel, it's too late for me. He's lost me as a reader.
2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.
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Posted February 20, 2010
As are all of Jack McDevitt's books, this is well written. He is not one of my favorite authors, but for someone who enjoys SciFi as opposed to Fantasy this would be a good book. It is a little off the wall and I prefer my SciFi to be more believeable.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.
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Posted October 23, 2009
Looking for hard sci-fi? This isn't it. It takes too long for anything interesting to develop, then once something interesting does develop, rather than exploring it McDevitt spends the rest of the novel introducing us to an endless string of completely unimportant characters for one page each, tells us how they feel about things, then abandons them. Right when the book starts to get interesting, it goes off track and never comes close to recovering.
I'm a big McDevitt fan (love the Omega cloud series), but this novel was an utter waste of time.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.
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Posted May 8, 2013
Two beavers and one stag and two elk at army third result.
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Posted April 30, 2013
Week pup comes in. Please help me i need foog!
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Posted April 3, 2013
Hai iz dis da pwey shop?
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Posted March 29, 2013
My name is Sunleaf. I an a golden she cat with dark green eyes. I am blind so i was trained as a med cat. I will be the med cat Ravenstar.
Sunleaf
Anonymous
Posted April 11, 2013
23 mice voles and birds at quick and easy cat care res one. We moved becuase our old home got deleted from the store :(
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Posted March 21, 2013
17 mice and birds at uncle remus.
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Posted March 28, 2013
She hisses at frostbite.
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Posted March 20, 2013
I would like ten voles five mice three foxes and three birds send them to dlarmes result two please thank you
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Posted March 22, 2013
7mice and foxes plzz at seiji second result.
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Posted March 20, 2013
4 mice, 5 voles, and 7 squirrels.
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Posted January 14, 2013
.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.First Impressions: I’ve read Jack’s “The Odyssey” and was mildly entertained. With that, I decided to explore his earlier novels including the stand-alone book Ancient Shores. A decent tale, but goes off on too many tangents to follow. Ending seemed rushed. Story & Plot: I enjoyed the build-up of the character Max, a man who was good with antique airplanes, had a military family history but shunned that route, deciding instead to restore old aircraft. The book makes a big deal of a horror accident where he could have saved but did not save a girl in a plane that exploded on a runway as a hapless man attempted to save her. From this we get that Max is not one to take chances or risks that would endanger himself. Later in the book this takes the form of his not defending the “Roundhouse” (an alien artifact that turns out to be a transporter to other worlds) from the USA which wants to destroy it in order to save the economy (a roundabout way of building that plot!). April, the Black scientist, who thought it sad that her retiring collegue got recognized for his work and then faded out, wanted fame and fortune and saw the sailboat found on a farm in North Dakota her ticket to ride. It’s a story of “be careful what you wish for.” And the author’s tendency to give the reader the complete rundown of each main character’s love life was a bit much and did not add to the overall plot. The book tends to go off on several tangents, telling stories of minor characters who are affected by the discovery of alien technology – some find religion, some radio minister makes money off it (not sure what the point of that was) and some want to blow the Roundhouse up (an odd account of a man who has a radio-controlled bomb in his truck and drives by someone who just happens to have the same frequency for his garage door opener – really?). There are some interesting points that are immediately dropped – who is this invisible alien who comes onto Earth? What happened to him? And the subplot of the Native American plot of land and how they’re repeating history by defending their land against the government was a fine opinion of exploitation and political ranting & raving, but highly unlikely. Bottom Line: As other reviewers have found, the book seemed to have a hard time finding its way until the end, where we finally get some closure – but a disappointing ending where we’re still left to wonder what about the other worlds out there – would the discovery of super-human technology actually crash the economy? I recommend reading his Nebula and Hugo award-winning tales instead. Ancient Shores, like Odyssey, are cute one-time novels that make a point of the human condition but leave the reader unsatisfied at the end.
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Posted January 21, 2002
This book leaves you on the edge of your seat wnating to learn about the numerous secrets that are intwined carefully throughout this novel.
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Posted February 29, 2000
This is indeed a fascinating subject, and McDevitt slowly (but not too slowly!) and carefully reveals more and more about the artifact that is found. McDevitt keeps the reader in suspense, right up to the end of the book where, frustratingly, the reader is left hanging. However, this book is ripe for at least one sequel and I hope Mr. McDevitt complies. The only problem I have with this book is that once again, McDevitt's main characters are irresponsible or inexperienced archaeologists who take no precautions and jump into things before thinking, naturally provoking mishaps and tragedies -- this makes the book difficult to read as I was constantly disgusted buy the impulsive, and at times juvenile, behavior of the main characters.
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Posted February 10, 2011
No text was provided for this review.
Anonymous
Posted January 3, 2010
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Anonymous
Posted January 16, 2010
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Overview
It turned up in a North Dakota wheat field: a triangle, like a shark's fin, sticking up from the black loam. Tom Lasker did what any farmer would have done. He dug it up. And discovered a boat, made of a fiberglass-like material with an utterly impossible atomic number. What it was doing buried under a dozen feet of prairie soil two thousand miles from any ocean, no one knew. True, Tom Lasker's wheat field had once been on the shoreline of a great inland sea, but that was a long...