A world that exists in the shadow of our own… the thrilling conclusion to John Twelve Hawks's Fourth Realm trilogy, The Golden City is packed with the knife-edge tension, intriguing characters, and startling plot twists that made The Traveler and The Dark River international hits.John Twelve Hawks's previous novels about the mystical Travelers and the Brethren, their ruthless enemies, generated an extraordinary following around the world. The Washington Post wrote that The Traveler 'portrays a Big Brother with powers far beyond anything Orwell could imagine…' and Publishers Weekly hailed the series as 'a saga that's part A Wrinkle in Time, part The Matrix and part Kurosawa epic.' Internet chat rooms and blogs have overflowed with speculation about the final destiny of the richly imagined characters fighting an epic battle beneath the surface of our modern world.In The Golden City, Twelve Hawks delivers the climax to his spellbinding epic. Struggling to protect the legacy of his Traveler father, Gabriel faces troubling new questions and relentless threats. His brother Michael, now firmly allied with the enemy, pursues his ambition to wrest power from Nathan Boone, the calculating leader of the Brethren. And Maya, the Harlequin warrior pledged to protect Gabriel at all costs, is forced to make a choice that will change her life forever.A riveting blend of high-tech thriller and fast-paced adventure, The Golden City will delight Twelve Hawks's many fans and attract a new audience to the entire trilogy.
The third book in the Fourth Realm series, 2009
Seven years ago, I had a vision that evolved into
Looking back, I realize that a lifetime of thoughts and experiences were expressed within this fiction. Both the story and its characters couldn’t be held within one country or even a particular reality.
Some people have enjoyed reading the books for entertainment, but others have been inspired to start websites and groups that are beginning to resist the various manifestations of the Vast Machine. I will continue to support these efforts in any way possible.
This third novel is dedicated to my readers. It’s been a privilege to communicate with you. I hope that you and those you love are surrounded by Light.
– John Twelve Hawks
Although it was clear that no other car was traveling down Sycamore Lane, Susan Howard switched on her turn signal and glanced in the rearview mirror before pulling into the driveway. Susan lived in a two-bedroom cottage with rose bushes bordering the front walkway. There was birch tree in the back and a detached garage that resembled a cow shed covered with ivy.
The garage was filled with storage boxes and old furniture from her mother’s house. Whenever Susan arrived home she felt a brief moment of guilt.
But now it was Spring, and the only thing she noticed when she got out of her car was the sound of cicadas and the smell of wet grass. Susan gazed up at the night sky, looking for the Big Dipper. Usually it pleased her that she lived far enough from New York City to see the constellations, but tonight her eyes focused on the dark, cold spaces between the stars. They were watching her. She could feel it. Someone was watching her.
“Stop it,” she said out loud. And the calm tone of her own voice made her feel better.
Susan pulled a handful of bills and catalogues out of the mailbox, then unlocked the front door. She heard a familiar “yip-yip!” and a Cocker Spaniel raced out of the kitchen, his nails clicking on the linoleum. It was wonderful to be greeted by a friend when you came home and Charlie really was her little friend. But the dog was mischievous, too-especially if Susan was late. She walked through the cottage and made sure that there hadn’t been an accident before she gave Charlie a treat and let him out into the back yard.
Up until a few months ago, she had followed the same routine: she would let the dog out, pour herself a glass of Chablis, and then turn on her computer to answer her email. But she rarely used that computer anymore, and drinking alcohol made her feel sloppy and unaware. They were watching her. She was sure they were watching her. And now she had broken the rules and done something very dangerous.
Susan was a computer programmer working for the Evergreen Foundation Research Center in Westchester County. She was involved in creating the software interface for the new quantum computer and had been part of the small group in the observation gallery when Michael Corrigan had left his body for another world. The Crossover Project was top secret, but Susan’s team had been told that their work involved national security and the war on terror.
Maybe that was true, but it was still strange to spend part of your work day staring down at a man lying on a table with wires attached to his brain. For several hours, it had been difficult to detect Mr. Corrigan’s pulse. Then suddenly he opened his eyes, got off the table, and shuffled out of the room.
A few weeks later every Foundation employee was called into the administration building and told about a new program called Norm-All. The slogan for the program was:
