Code to Zero

Code to Zero

3.6 61
by Ken Follett
     
 

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In this classic Cold War thriller, #1 New York Times bestselling author Ken Follett puts his own electrifying twist on the space race between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. "Code to Zero's split-second suspense proves that...[Follett is] a hell of storyteller."—Entertainment Weekly


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Overview

In this classic Cold War thriller, #1 New York Times bestselling author Ken Follett puts his own electrifying twist on the space race between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. "Code to Zero's split-second suspense proves that...[Follett is] a hell of storyteller."—Entertainment Weekly


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Editorial Reviews

bn.com
The Barnes & Noble Review
It's early in 1958. Reeling from the Soviet Union's Sputnik success, the United States struggles desperately to catch up. Thus far, those efforts have resulted in a series of spectacular failures. Now the hopes of a nation, and the future of the U.S. space program, hinge on the successful launch of Explorer I, scheduled to lift off on January 29th.

The odds against a successful launch, however, are even more formidable than anyone anticipated. Technical obstacles were to be expected. Internal problems were not. A Soviet mole, his role until now limited to passing American technology to Moscow, has been instructed to sabotage the launch.

With the future of the free world at stake, only one man can foil the Soviet plan. Unfortunately, with only two days until launch, he doesn't even know about it. That man, you see, has just awakened in a Washington, D.C., subway station, smelling of alcohol -- apparently one of the numerous homeless who have found shelter there. He can't remember who he is or how he got there. Armed with only a single clue -- a fellow traveler addresses him as "Luke" -- he begins a perilous search for his identity, a search that ultimately leads him into direct conflict with a Soviet spy network intent on preventing U.S. entry into space.

Fueled by this intriguing premise, Code to Zero hurtles to its surprising climax with blinding speed, taking readers for a hair-raising ride. Although some may find it a bit melodramatic (perhaps intentionally, Follett's writing style echoes that of novels written during the early days of the space race, and the success of the hero's search often hinges on coincidence and breathtaking, intuitive leaps of logic), most will find Code to Zero an enjoyable read, if only because of Follett's painstaking attention to detail -- he provides copious information about the technical side of the launch, and about the state of psychology at the time -- and the intriguing supporting cast he has assembled. Although Follett is not quite at the top of his form here (look to Eye of the Needle, The Pillars of the Earth, Night over Water, and On Wings of Eagles for that), Code to Zero is head-and-shoulders above most of its current competition. After three decades in the business, Follett knows what buttons to push, and when to push them.

--Hank Wagner

Hank Wagner is a book reviewer for Cemetery Dance magazine and The Overlook Connection.

Los Angeles Times
Ken Follett delivers the surefire suspense readers have come to expect.
Philadelphia Inquirer
Follett is an artist of compelling talents.
Bookpage
Follett has made a name for himself by writing taut, well-researched thrillers, and Code to Zero is no exception.
New York Times Book Review
With dependable skill, Follett weaves the threads of his narrative together, tying them into an unexpected and story-resolving knot....
Cleveland Plain Dealer
The premise is vintage Follett.
Style Weekly Magazine
Thriller fans will enjoy this novel set in 1958.
Baltimore Sun
...Follett builds the plot so well, framing it...the result is entertaining....
You know a novelist is tired when his protagonist suffers from that old soap-opera plot device, amnesia—even if it is caused by the CIA. After rocket scientist Claude Lucas discovers a Soviet plan to blow up a 1958 Cape Canaveral launch, a Russian spy in the CIA administers an incapacitating drug to Lucas instead of killing him, one of several improbabilities. Another: The spy was an old Harvard classmate of Lucas. This information doesn't give away the plot because, in fact, all of the novel's five principals were friends in Cambridge, a very tight best-and-brightest group indeed. To save the rocket, Lucas has to recover his identity, uncover the spy network and make love to the woman he should have married. The stakes just aren't that thrilling, not now. We know who won the space race and the cold war. The characters try to elicit some excitement by speaking urgent movie lines as they get in and out of planes, trains and cars. But Follett is no Le Carré. Almost never does a metaphor, complex sentence or intimate perception beautify Follett's screenplay prose. Like the grand novel of rocketry, Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow, this book includes considerable historical and technical detail, but Follett's fifteenth book is slow to get off the ground, lacks throw weight and ends with a thud.
—Tom LeClair

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
HAfter dabbling in his last few books in historical sagas and various thriller subgenres, Follett returns to his espionage roots with this absorbing, tightly plotted Cold War tale about skullduggery in the early days of the space race. Set in 1958 shortly after the Soviets beat the Americans into orbit, the story tracks the frantic movements of Dr. Claude Lucas, who wakes up one morning in Washington, D.C.'s Union Station, dressed as a bum. A victim of amnesia, he has no recollection that he is a key player in the upcoming launch of Explorer 1, the army's latest attempt to get a rocket into space. While Lucas slowly unravels the clues to his identity, the CIA follows its own agenda. The agency, led by Lucas's old Harvard buddy Anthony Carroll, has its own murky reasons for wanting Lucas to remain amnesic, and will kill him if he tries to interfere with the launch. Follett (The Hammer of Eden) does a wonderful job of keeping readers guessing about Lucas; is he a spy trying to foil the launch, as the CIA apparently believes? From the nation's capital to Alabama and Cape Canaveral, Lucas manages to stay one step ahead of his pursuers, steadily learning more about his memory loss, his wife, Elspeth, and his college friends Carroll, Billie Josephson and Bern Rothsten. Suspense junkies won't be disappointed by Follett's man-on-the-run framework; tension courses through the book from start to finish. Yet where the story shines is in the chemistry between Lucas and the four other major characters. As told through a series of well-chosen flashbacks, all the old college chums are now working or have worked as spies. The dilemma, skillfully posed by Follett, is figuring out who's friend and who's foe. (Dec. 4) Forecast: In his first hardcover for Dutton, Follett is wise to return to his forte of espionage thriller, and to base this novel on a real event, the unexplained delay of the 1958 Explorer 1 launch. Given the promotional hooplaDwhich includes a 425,000 first printing and $400,000 ad/promoDplus first serial to Reader's Digest; status as a BOMC, Literary Guild and Doubleday Book Club main selection; simultaneous audios from Penguin Audio; and the sale of movie rights to Columbia Pictures, this book has a good chance of dancing with the charts. Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
With Eye of the Needle and the numerous novels that followed, Follett established himself as a master of the thriller. This latest tale of Cold War espionage is one more bit of evidence. In a narrative that moves smoothly between the World War II years and 1958, when the Soviet Union began the space race by launching Sputnik, Follett reminds us of an almost forgotten time when the very thought of Soviet successes in space terrified us. Scientist and former OSS agent Dr. Claude ("Luke") Lukas knows that something terrible will happen to a coming space launch, but he has been drugged and now suffers from amnesia. What follows is the taut and exciting story of Luke's attempt to find his identity and stop an unknown disaster from occurring. Recommended for all popular fiction collections. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 8/00.]--Robert Conroy, Warren, MI Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
From veteran spymeister Follett (The Hammer of Eden, 1998, etc.), the story of a the space race that never gets off the ground. Amnesia is the engine Follett chooses to drive his latest and, not unexpectedly, the worn-out thing sputters. Dr. Luke Lucas, waking up on the cold, hard floor of a public toilet in Union Station, Washington, D.C.—headachy, nauseous, shabbily dressed—wonders how he got there. Well, thereby hangs the tale. It's January 1958, mid—Cold War, and the Soviets have already orbited Sputnik. The Americans, intent on catching up, are set to launch the first US space satellite. Rocket scientist Luke is central to the success of the effort, in part because of his brilliant mathematical mind, but also because he's accidentally stumbled on a plot to keep Explorer I from ever leaving its Cape Canaveral pad. Determined to block Luke's attempt to block their attempt to block a launch, Communist agents have hijacked him and administered memory-robbing drugs, which explains his rude awakening. If that doesn't work, they plan to knock him off him. Why not simply kill him and be done with it? More efficient, true, but a certain strategically placed CIA mole happens to have been Luke's Harvard classmate, and at first he chooses friendship over pragmatism. So, though Luke no longer knows what he knew, the game's afoot as our hero, in hiding, strives to retrieve enough of his memory to figure out why old pals and former lovers are now bent on betrayal, while the desperate Commies seek him here, there, and everywhere. Full of misplaced Cold War nostalgia and dreary, threadbare characters. And really now, amnesia? In this day andage?With a straightface? First printing of 425,000; $400,000 ad/promo; first serial to Reader's Digest; film rights to Columbia Pictures; Book-of-the-Month Club/Literary Guild main selection; TV satellite tour

From the Publisher
“Gripping.”—The New York Times

“This spy thriller is Follett at his best.”—People

“Code to Zero’s split-second suspense proves that nearly a quarter century after his breakthrough novel, Eye of the Needle…[Follett is] still a hell of a storyteller.”—Entertainment Weekly

“Absorbing, tightly plotted…Suspense junkies won't be disappointed.”—Publishers Weekly

“Starts off fast and never slows down…Follett creates a rousing story that never flags.”—Chicago Tribune

“Flawlessly plotted, tautly told and suspenseful.”—Minneapolis Star Tribune

“A winner…a jolting joyride.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781101209370
Publisher:
Penguin Publishing Group
Publication date:
11/01/2001
Sold by:
Penguin Group
Format:
NOOK Book
Pages:
480
Sales rank:
37,207
File size:
575 KB
Age Range:
18 Years

Read an Excerpt



Chapter One


5 A.M.


The Jupiter C missile stands on the launch pad at Complex 26, Cape Canaveral. For secrecy, it is draped in vast canvas shrouds that hide everything but its tail, which is that of the Army's familiar Redstone rocket. But the rest of it, under the concealing cloak, is quite unique ...


He woke up scared.

    Worse than that: he was terrified. His heart was pounding, his breath came in gasps, and his body was taut. It was like a nightmare, except that waking brought no sense of relief. He felt that something dreadful had happened, but he did not know what it was.

    He opened his eyes. A faint light from another room dimly illuminated his surroundings, and he made out vague shapes, familiar but sinister. Somewhere nearby, water ran in a cistern.

    He tried to make himself calm. He swallowed, took regular breaths, and attempted to think straight. He was lying on a hard floor. He was cold, he hurt everywhere, and he had some kind of hangover, with a headache and a dry mouth and a feeling of nausea.

    He sat upright, shaking with fear. There was an unpleasant smell of damp floors washed with strong disinfectant. He recognized the outline of a row of washbasins.

    He was in a public toilet.

    He felt disgusted. He had been sleeping on the floor of a men's room. What the hell had happened to him? He concentrated. He was fully dressed, wearing some kind of topcoat and heavy boots, though he had a feeling that these were not hisclothes. His panic was subsiding, but in its place came a deeper fear, less hysterical but more rational. What had happened to him was very bad.

    He needed light.

    He got to his feet. He looked around, peering into the gloom, and guessed where the door might be. Holding his arms out in front of him in case of invisible obstacles, he made his way to a wall. Then he walked crabwise, his hands exploring. He found a cold glassy surface he guessed was a mirror, then there was a towel roller, then a metal box that might be a slot machine. At last his fingertips touched a switch, and he turned it on.

    Bright light flooded white-tiled walls, a concrete floor, and a line of toilets with open doors. In a corner was what looked like a bundle of old clothes. He asked himself how he got here. He concentrated hard. What had happened last night? He could not remember.

    The hysterical fear began to return as he realized he could not remember anything at all.

    He clenched his teeth to stop himself crying out. Yesterday ... the day before ... nothing. What was his name? He did not know.

    He turned toward the row of basins, Above them was a long mirror. In the glass he saw a filthy hobo, dressed in rags, with matted hair, a dirty face, and a crazy, pop-eyed stare. He looked at the hobo for a second, then he was hit by a terrible revelation. He started back, with a cry of shock, and the man in the mirror did the same. The hobo was himself.

    He could no longer hold back the tide of panic. He opened his mouth and, in a voice that shook with terror, he shouted, "Who am I?"


* * *


The bundle of old clothes moved. It rolled over, a face appeared, and a voice mumbled, "You're a bum, Luke, pipe down."

    His name was Luke.

    He was pathetically grateful for the knowledge. A name was not much, but it gave him a focus. He stared at his companion. The man wore a ripped tweed coat with a length of string around the waist for a belt. The grimy young face had a crafty look. The man rubbed his eyes and muttered, "My head hurts."

    Luke said, "Who are you?"

    "I'm Pete, you retard, can't you see?"

    "I can't—" Luke swallowed, holding down the panic. "I've lost my memory!"

    "I ain't surprised. You drank most of a bottle of liquor yesterday. It's a miracle you didn't lose your entire mind." He licked his lips. "I didn't get hardly any of that goddamn bourbon."

    Bourbon would explain the hangover, Luke thought. "But why would I drink a whole bottle?"

    Pete laughed mockingly. "That's about the dumbest question I ever heard. To get drunk, of course!"

    Luke was appalled. He was a drunken bum who slept in public toilets.

    He had a raging thirst. He bent over a washbasin, ran the cold water, and drank from the tap. It made him feel better. He wiped his mouth, then forced himself to look in the mirror again.

    The face was calmer now. The mad stare had gone, replaced by a look of bewilderment and dismay. The reflection showed a man in his late thirties, with dark hair and blue eyes. He had no beard or moustache, just a heavy growth of dark stubble.

    He turned back to his companion. "Luke what?" he said. "What's my last name?"

    "Luke ... something, how the hell am I supposed to know?"

    "How did I get this way? How long has it been going on? Why did it happen?"

    Pete got to his feet. "I need some breakfast," he said.

    Luke realized he was hungry. He wondered if he had any money. He searched the pockets of his clothes: the raincoat, the jacket, the pants. All were empty. He had no money, no wallet, not even a handkerchief. No assets, no clues. "I think I'm broke," he said.

    "No kidding," Pete said sarcastically. "Come on." He stumbled through a doorway.

    Luke followed.

    When he emerged into the light, he suffered another shock. He was in a huge temple, empty and eerily silent. Mahogany benches stood in rows on the marble floor, like church pews waiting for a ghostly congregation. Around the vast room, on a high stone lintel atop rows of pillars, surreal stone warriors with helmets and shields stood guard over the holy place. Far above their heads was a vaulted ceiling richly decorated with gilded octagons. The insane thought crossed Luke's mind that he had been the sacrificial victim in a weird rite that had left him with no memory.

    Awestruck, he said, "What is this place?"

    "Union Station, Washington, D.C.," said Pete.

    A relay closed in Luke's mind, and the whole thing made sense. With relief he saw the grime on the walls, the chewing-gum trodden into the marble floor, and the candy wrappers and cigarette packs in the corners, and he felt foolish. He was in a grandiose train station, early in the morning before it filled up with passengers. He had scared himself, like a child imagining monsters in a darkened bedroom.

    Pete headed for a triumphal arch marked Exit, and Luke hurried after him.

    An aggressive voice called, "Hey! Hey, you!"

    Pete said, "Oh-oh." He quickened his step.

    A stout man in a tight-fitting railroad uniform bore down on them, full of righteous indignation. "Where did you bums spring from?"

    Pete whined, "We're leaving, we're leaving."

    Luke was humiliated, to be chased out of a train station by a fat official.

    The man was not content just to get rid of them. "You been sleeping here, ain't you?" he protested, following hard on their heels. "You know that ain't allowed."

    It angered Luke to be lectured like a schoolboy, even though he guessed he deserved it. He had slept in the damn toilet. He suppressed a retort and walked faster.

    "This ain't a flophouse," the man went on. "Damn bums, now scram!" He shoved Luke's shoulder.

    Luke turned suddenly and confronted the man. "Don't touch me," he said. He was surprised by the quiet menace in his own voice. The official stopped short. "We're leaving, so you don't need to do or say anything more, is that clear?"

    The man took a big step backward, looking scared.

    Pete took Luke's arm. "Let's go."

    Luke felt ashamed. The guy was an officious twerp, but Luke and Pete were vagrants, and a railroad employee had the right to throw them out. Luke had no business to intimidate him.

    They passed through the majestic archway. It was dark outside. A few cars were parked around the traffic circle in front of the station, but the streets were quiet. The air was bitterly cold, and Luke drew his ragged clothes closer about him. It was winter, a frosty morning in Washington, maybe January or February.

    He wondered what year it was.

    Pete turned left, apparently sure where he was going. Luke followed. "Where are we headed?" he asked.

    "I know a gospel shop on H Street where we can get free breakfast, so long as you don't mind singing a hymn or two."

    "I'm starving, I'll sing a whole oratorio."

    Pete confidently followed a zigzag route through a low-rent neighbourhood. The city was not yet awake. The houses were dark and the stores shuttered, the greasy spoons and the newsstands not yet open. Glancing at a bedroom window hung with cheap curtains, Luke imagined a man inside, fast asleep under a pile of blankets, his wife warm beside him; and he felt a pang of envy. It seemed that he belonged out here, in the predawn community of men and women who ventured into the cold streets while ordinary people slept on: the man in work clothes shuffling to an early-morning job; the young bicycle rider muffled in scarf and gloves; the solitary woman smoking in the brightly lit interior of a bus.

    His mind seethed with anxious questions. How long had he been a drunk? Had he ever tried to dry out? Did he have any family who might help him? Where had he met Pete? Where did they get the booze? Where did they drink it? But Pete's manner was taciturn, and Luke controlled his impatience, hoping Pete might be more forthcoming when he had some food inside him.

    They came to a small church standing defiantly between a cinema and a smoke shop. They entered by a side door and went down a flight of stairs to the basement. Luke found himself in a long room with a low ceiling—the crypt, he guessed. At one end he saw an upright piano and a small pulpit; at the other, a kitchen range. In between were three rows of trestle tables with benches. Three bums sat there, one at each table, staring patiently into space. At the kitchen end, a dumpy woman stirred a big pot. Beside her, a gray-bearded man wearing a clerical collar looked up from a coffee urn and smiled. "Come in, come in!" he said cheerfully. "Come into the warm." Luke regarded him warily, wondering if he was for real.

    It was warm, stiflingly so after the wintry air outside. Luke unbuttoned his grubby trenchcoat. Pete said, "Morning, Pastor Lonegan."

    The pastor said, "Have you been here before? I've forgotten your name."

    "I'm Pete, he's Luke."

    "Two disciples!" His bonhomie seemed genuine. "You're a little early for breakfast, but there's fresh coffee."

    Luke wondered how Lonegan maintained his cheery disposition when he had to get up this early to serve breakfast to a room full of catatonic deadbeats.

    The pastor poured coffee into thick mugs. "Milk and sugar?"

    Luke did not know whether he liked milk and sugar in his coffee. "Yes, thank you," he said, guessing. He accepted the mug and sipped the coffee. It tasted sickeningly creamy and sweet. He guessed he normally took it black. But it assuaged his hunger, and he drank it all quickly.

    "We'll have a word of prayer in a few minutes," said the pastor. "By the time we're done, Mrs. Lonegan's famous oatmeal should be cooked to perfection."

    Luke decided his suspicion had been unworthy. Pastor Lonegan was what he seemed, a cheerful guy who liked to help people.

    Luke and Pete sat at the rough plank table, and Luke studied his companion. Until now, he had noticed only the dirty face and ragged clothes. Now he saw that Pete had none of the marks of a long-term drunk: no broken veins, no dry skin flaking off the face, no cuts or bruises. Perhaps he was too young—only about twenty-five, Luke guessed. But Pete was slightly disfigured. He had a dark red birthmark that ran from his right ear to his jawline. His teeth were uneven and discolored. The dark moustache had probably been grown to distract attention from his bad teeth, back in the days when he cared about his appearance. Luke sensed suppressed anger in him. He guessed that Pete resented the world, maybe for making him ugly, maybe for some other reason. He probably had a theory that the country was being ruined by some group he hated: Chinese immigrants, or uppity Negroes, or a shadowy club of ten rich men who secretly controlled the stock market.

    "What are you staring at?" Pete said.

    Luke shrugged and did not reply. On the table was a newspaper folded open at the crossword, and a stub of pencil. Luke glanced idly at the grid, picked up the pencil, and started to fill in the answers.

    More bums drifted in. Mrs. Lonegan put out a stack of heavy bowls and a pile of spoons. Luke got all the crossword clues but one—"Small place in Denmark," six letters. Pastor Lonegan looked over his shoulder at the filled-out grid, raised his eyebrows in surprise, and said quietly to his wife, "O! what a noble mind is here o'erthrown."

    Luke immediately got the last clue—Hamlet—and wrote it in. Then he thought, How did I know that?

    He unfolded the paper and looked at the front page for the date. It was Wednesday 29 January 1958. His eye was caught by the headline U.S. MOON STAYS EARTHBOUND. He read on:


Cape Canaveral. Tuesday: The U.S. Navy today abandoned a second attempt to launch its space rocket, Vanguard, after multiple technical problems.

    The decision comes two months after the first Vanguard launch ended in humiliating disaster when the rocket exploded two seconds after ignition.

    American hopes of launching a space satellite to rival the Soviet Sputnik now rest with the Army's rival Jupiter missile.


    The piano sounded a strident chord and Luke looked up. Mrs. Lonegan was playing the introductory notes of a familiar hymn. She and her husband began to sing "What a Friend we have in Jesus," and Luke joined in, pleased he could remember it.

    Bourbon had a strange effect, he thought. He could do the crossword and sing a hymn from memory, but he did not know his mother's name. Perhaps he had been drinking for years and had damaged his brain. He wondered how he could have let such a thing happen.

    After the hymn, Pastor Lonegan read some Bible verses, then told them all that they could be saved. Here was a group that really needed saving, Luke thought. All the same, he was not tempted to put his faith in Jesus. First he needed to find out who he was.

    The pastor extemporized a prayer, they sang grace, then the men lined up and Mrs. Lonegan served them hot oatmeal with syrup. Luke ate three bowls. Afterwards, he felt much better. His hangover was receding fast.

    Impatient to resume his questions, he approached the pastor. "Sir, have you seen me here before? I've lost my memory."

    Lonegan looked hard at him. "You know, I don't believe I have. But I meet hundreds of people every week, and I could be mistaken. How old are you?"

    "I don't know," Luke said, feeling foolish.

    "Late thirties, I'd say. You haven't been living rough very long. It takes its toll on a man. But you walk with a spring in your step, your skin is clear under the dirt, and you're still alert enough to do a crossword puzzle. Quit drinking now, and you could lead a normal life again."

    Luke wondered how many times the pastor had said that. "I'm going to try," he promised.

    "If you need help, just ask." A young man who appeared to be mentally handicapped was persistently patting Lonegan's arm, and he turned to him with a patient smile.

    Luke spoke to Pete. "How long have you known me?"

    "I don't know, you been around a while."

    "Where did we spend the night before last?"

    "Relax, will you? Your memory will come back sooner or later."

    "I have to find out where I'm from."

    Pete hesitated. "What we need is a beer," he said. "Help us think straight." He turned for the door.

    Luke grabbed his arm. "I don't want a beer," he said decisively. Pete did not want him to dig into his past, it seemed. Perhaps he was afraid of losing a companion. Well, that was too bad. Luke had more important things to do than keep Pete company. "In fact," he said, "I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

    "What are you, Greta Garbo?"

    "I'm serious."

    "You need me to look out for you. You can't make it on your own. Hell, you can't even remember how old you are."

    Pete had a desperate look in his eyes, but Luke was unmoved. "I appreciate your concern, but you're not helping me find out who I am."

    After a moment Pete shrugged. "You got a right." He turned to the door again. "See you around, maybe."

    "Maybe."

    Pete went out. Luke shook Pastor Lonegan's hand. "Thank you for everything," he said.

    "I hope you find what you're looking for," said the pastor.

    Luke went up the stairs and out into the street. Pete was on the next block, speaking to a man in a green gaberdine raincoat with a matching cap—begging the price of a beer, Luke guessed. He walked in the opposite direction and turned around the first corner.

    It was still dark. Luke's feet were cold, and he realized he was not wearing socks under his boots. As he hurried on, a light flurry of snow fell. After a few minutes, he eased his pace. He had no reason to rush. It made no difference whether he walked fast or slow. He stopped and took shelter in a doorway.

    He had nowhere to go.

What People are saying about this

From the Publisher
“Gripping.”—The New York Times

“This spy thriller is Follett at his best.”—People

Code to Zero’s split-second suspense proves that nearly a quarter century after his breakthrough novel, Eye of the Needle…[Follett is] still a hell of a storyteller.”—Entertainment Weekly

“Absorbing, tightly plotted…Suspense junkies won't be disappointed.”—Publishers Weekly

“Starts off fast and never slows down…Follett creates a rousing story that never flags.”—Chicago Tribune

“Flawlessly plotted, tautly told and suspenseful.”—Minneapolis Star Tribune

“A winner…a jolting joyride.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Meet the Author





Ken Follett is one of the world's best–loved novelists. He has sold more than one hundred million copies. His last book, World Without End, went straight to the No. 1 position on bestseller lists in the United States, Spain, Italy, Germany, and France.



He first hit the charts in 1978 with Eye of the Needle, a taut and original thriller with a memorable woman character in the central role. The book won the Edgar Award and became an outstanding film starring Kate Nelligan and Donald Sutherland.



He went on to write four more bestselling thrillers: Triple, The Key to Rebecca, The Man from St. Petersburg, and Lie Down with Lions. Cliff Robertson and David Soul starred in the miniseries of The Key to Rebecca. In 1994 Timothy Dalton, Omar Sharif, and Marg Helgenberger starred in the miniseries of Lie Down with Lions.



He also wrote On Wings of Eagles, the true story of how two employees of Ross Perot were rescued from Iran during the revolution of 1979. This book was made into a miniseries with Richard Crenna as Ross Perot and Burt Lancaster as Colonel "Bull" Simons.



Ken Follett then surprised readers by radically changing course with The Pillars of the Earth, a novel about building a cathedral in the Middle Ages. Published in September 1989 to rave reviews, it was on the New York Times bestseller list for eighteen weeks. It also reached the No. 1 position on lists in Canada, Great Britain, and Italy, and was on the German bestseller list for six years. It was voted the third greatest book ever written by 250,000 viewers of the German television station ZDF in 2004, beaten only by The Lord of the Rings and the Bible. When The Times (London) asked its readers to vote for the sixty greatest novels of the last sixty years, The Pillars of the Earth was placed at No. 2, after To Kill a Mockingbird. (The sequel, World Without End, was No. 23 on the same list.) In November 2007, Pillars became the most popular choice of the Oprah Winfrey Book Club, returning to No. 1 on the New York Times bestseller list. The miniseries, produced by Ridley Scott and starring Ian McShane and Matthew Macfadyen, is due for broadcast in 2010.



After Pillars, Ken Follett abandoned the straightforward spy genre for awhile, but his stories still had powerful narrative drive, strong women characters, and elements of suspense and intrigue. Night over Water, A Dangerous Fortune, and A Place Called Freedom followed.



Then he returned to the thriller. The Third Twin was a scorching suspense novel about a young woman scientist who stumbles across a secret experiment in genetic engineering. Miniseries rights were sold to CBS for $1,400,000, a record price for four hours of television. The series, starring Kelly McGillis and Larry Hagman, was broadcast in the United States in November 1997. (Ken Follett appeared briefly as the butler.) In Publishing Trends' annual survey of international fiction bestsellers for 1997, The Third Twin was ranked No. 2 in the world, beaten only by John Grisham's The Partner.



The Hammer of Eden, another nail–biting contemporary suspense story, came in 1998. Code to Zero (2000), about brainwashing and rocket science in the fifties, went to No. 1 on bestseller lists in the United States, Germany, and Italy, and film rights were snapped up by Doug Wick, producer of Gladiator, in a seven-figure deal. Jackdaws (2001), a World War II spy story in the tradition of Eye of the Needle, won the Corine Prize for 2003. Film rights were sold to Dino De Laurentiis. Hornet Flight, about two young people who escape from German–occupied Denmark in a Hornet Moth biplane, is loosely based on a true story. It was published in December 2002. Whiteout, a contemporary thriller about the theft of a dangerous virus from a laboratory, was published in 2004 and made into a miniseries in 2009.



World Without End, the long–awaited sequel to The Pillars of the Earth, was published in October 2007. It is set in Kingsbridge, the fictional location of the cathedral in Pillars, and features the descendants of the original characters at the time of the Black Death. It was a No.1 bestseller in Italy, the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, and Spain, where it was the fastest–selling book ever published in the Spanish language, outstripping the last Harry Potter book.



A board game based on The Pillars of the Earth was released worldwide in 2007 – 2008 and won the following prizes: Deutscher Spielepreis 2007, Game of the Year 2007 in the United States (GAMES 100), Jeu d'annee 2007 (Canada), Juego del ano 2007 (Spain), Japan Boardgame Prize 2007, Arets Spill 2007 (Norway), and Spiele Hit 2007 (Austria). It was a nominee in Finland, France, and the Netherlands, and got a recommendation in Germany by the Jury "Spiel des Jahres."



In 2008 Ken was awarded the Olaguibel Prize by the Colegio Oficial de Arquitectos Vasco–Navarro for contributing to the promotion and awareness of architecture. A statue of him by the distinguished Spanish sculptor Casto Solano was unveiled in January 2008 outside the Cathedral of Santa Maria in the Basque capital of Vitoria–Gasteiz in northern Spain.



His next project is his most ambitious yet. The Century Trilogy will tell the entire history of the twentieth century as seen through the eyes of five linked families: one American, one English, one German, one Russian, and one Welsh. The first book, Fall of Giants, focusing on the First World War and the Russian Revolution, will be published worldwide simultaneously on September 28, 2010. He is already at work on the second book, provisionally titled The Winter of the World, about the Spanish civil war, the Second World War, and the development of nuclear weapons.



Ken Follett is married to Barbara Follett, a political activist who was the member of Parliament for Stevenage in Hertfordshire for thirteen years and minister for culture in the government of Gordon Brown. They live in a rambling rectory in Stevenage and also have an eighteenth-century town house in London and a beach house in Antigua. Ken Follett is a lover of Shakespeare and is often seen at London productions of the Bard's plays. An enthusiastic amateur musician, he plays bass guitar in a band called Damn Right I Got the Blues and appears occasionally with the folk group Clog Iron playing a bass balalaika.



He was chair of the National Year of Reading 1998 – 99, a British government initiative to raise literacy levels. He was president of the charity Dyslexia Action for ten years. He is a member of The Welsh Academy, a board director of the National Academy of Writing, and a fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. In 2007 he was awarded an honorary Doctorate in Literature (D.Litt.) by the University of Glamorgan as well as similar degrees by Saginaw Valley State University, Michigan—where his papers are kept in the Ken Follett Archive—and by the University of Exeter in 2008. He is active in numerous Stevenage charities and was a governor of Roebuck Primary School for ten years, serving as chair of governors for four of those years.



He was born on June 5, 1949, in Cardiff, Wales, the son of a tax inspector. He was educated at state schools and

Brief Biography

Hometown:
Hertfordshire, England
Date of Birth:
June 5, 1949
Place of Birth:
Cardiff, Wales
Education:
B.A. in Philosophy, University College, London, 1970

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Code to Zero 3.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 61 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
As always Follett wraps suspense and intrigue around a histery/science lesson in a very enjoyable way. It requires suspence of reallity on the part of the reader, but if it didn't it woulndn't be fun! Just a bit too slow to start but once it got going it was great.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This was a fun read...but not up to the usual thriller that Follett is known for...
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
First Ken Follett book that I have read. Great discription of both the beginnings of the CIA and Americans entrance into the space race. Durning a time America was in a world war people were also taking sides on how they view freedom. Look forward too another great read by Ken Follett.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Although Code to Zero wasn't super good, I was actually pretty sad that it had to end. At first, I thought this was going to be an extremely good book but then it started getting too obvious. I kind of figured out the ending already and the book also tends to stay too long on a certain point. Aside from that, I totally recommend this book to everyone else!
Guest More than 1 year ago
Espionage is at the core of this Cold War era thriller and the suspense sizzles. The time is 1958 when the space race was young and the Soviets seemed to be outdistancing the America. The protagonist is an inventive, complex study - he's Dr. Claude Lucas, an important cog in a new space launch. However, he's also a victim of amnesia, an apparent vagrant in Washington D.C.'s Union Station. Toss in the CIA, a covey of spies, and an old college buddy of Lucas's who is more foe than friend. Some might deem this a classic take on chased and chasers - not so. Thanks to the deft Mr. Follett, it's a no-holds-barred, riveting epic. And, so are the readings. Frank Muller, who has been featured on over 150 audiobooks, offers a splendid rendering of crisp, character driven dialogue in the two abridged versions on cassette and CD. While Obie award-winner George Guidall, an actor for 40 plus years, reads the unabridged version. He takes sinister and dramatic to their zenith.
TRFeller 11 months ago
I do not recall ever reading this Cold War spy thriller, but it felt very familiar to me and I was expecting the plot twists. Of course, I have read many spy thrillers, including others by Follett, so it may just be familiarity with the genre. This novel is set in January, 1958, and centers on the launch of Explorer I, the first successful American launch of a satellite with flashbacks to scenes set from 1941 to 1954. The central character is Claude “Luke” Lucas, a rocket scientist who works for the U.S.Army at the Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama. On the day of the launch he wakes up in Washington, D.C. with amnesia and is being followed by C.I.A. agents led by an old friend of his, Anthony Carroll. He gradually learns about himself and a plot to destroy the satellite from his wife Elspeth, former lover Billie, and another old friend Bern. It is very well crafted, and all the characters are interesting, even the villains who are not sociopaths and have reasons for their actions.
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MLIII More than 1 year ago
I just read a review below and couldn't agree more. This book is a great page turner but definitely not Follett's best work. However,the writing is great, and Follett does a great job linking a storyline.
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lockedwall More than 1 year ago
Another fantastic book by Ken Follett and as always, he never fails to grab the reader! Code to Zero will keep you on edge and turning pages until the end! As with all books written by Ken Follett, it is metisculously researched and educational, though you never realize he is the educator! Get this page-turner now and see what you have been missing!
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