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SPHERE
 
A Novel by
Michael Crichton
 
BALLANTINE BOOKS • NEW YORK
 
Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold or destroyed” and neither the author nor the Publisher may have received payment for it.
 
Copyright ©1987 by Michael Crichton
 
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States of America by Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
 
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 86-46321
 
http://www.randomhouse.com
 
ISBN 0-345-35314-5
 
This edition published by arrangement with Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.
 
Manufactured in the United States of America
 
First International Edition: February 1988 First U.S. Edition: August 1988
 
20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12
 
 
FOR LYNN NESBIT
 
When a scientist views things, he’s not considering the incredible at all.
—LOUIS I. KAHN
 
You can’t fool nature.
—RICHARD FEYNMAN
 
During the preparation of this manuscript, I received help and encouragement from Caroline Conley, Kurt Villadsen, Lisa Plonsker, Valery Pine, Anne-Marie Martin, John Deubert, Lynn Nesbit, and Bob Gottlieb. I am grateful to them all.
 
CONTENTS
 
THE SURFACE
1
THE DEEP
45
THE MONSTER
171
THE POWER
267
 
THE SURFACE
 
WEST OF TONGA
 
For a long time the horizon had been a monotonous flat blue line separating the Pacific Ocean from the sky. The Navy helicopter raced forward, flying low, near the waves. Despite the noise and the thumping vibration of the blades, Norman Johnson fell asleep. He was tired; he had been traveling on various military aircraft for more than fourteen hours. It was not the kind of thing a fifty-three-year-old professor of psychology was used to.
He had no idea how long he slept. When he awoke, he saw that the horizon was still flat; there were white semicircles of coral atolls ahead. He said over the intercom, “What’s this?”
“Islands of Ninihina and Tafahi,” the pilot said. “Technically part of Tonga, but they’re uninhabited. Good sleep?”
“Not bad.” Norman looked at the islands as they flashed by: a curve of white sand, a few palm trees, then gone. The flat ocean again.
“Where’d they bring you in from?” the pilot asked.
“San Diego,” Norman said. “I left yesterday.”
“So you came Honolulu-Guam-Pago-here?”
“That’s right.”
“Long trip,” the pilot said. “What kind of work you do, ............

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