Lost and Found: A Novel (The Taken Trilogy)
Alan Dean Foster
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Ever since his classic debut, The Tar-Aiym Krang, the first of the wildly successful Pip and Flinx adventures, New York Times bestselling author Alan Dean Foster has captivated readers around the world. Now this writer of bold imagination and stunning originality has created an electrifying space epic set in a universe at once strangely familiar and starkly terrifying. Familiar because the universe is ours; terrifying because the human condition might soon be. . . .
Not so long ago Marcus Walker was just another young commodities trader in Chicago, working hard and playing harder. But that’s all in the past, part of a life half forgotten—a reality that vanished when he was attacked while camping and tossed aboard a starship bound for deep space.
Desperately, Walker searches for explanations, only to realize he’s trapped in a horrifying nightmare that is all too real. Instead of being a rich hotshot at the top of the food chain, Walker discovers he’s just another amusing novelty, part of a cargo of “cute” aliens from primitive planets—destined to be sold as pets to highly advanced populations in “civilized” regions of the galaxy.
Even if he weren’t constantly watched by his captors, Walker has few options. After all, there is no escape from a speeding starship. Another man might resign himself to the inevitable and hope to be sold to a kindly owner, but not Walker. This former college football star has plenty of American ingenuity and no intention of admitting defeat, now or ever. In fact, he’s only just begun to fight.
The adventure will continue with two more novels
From the Hardcover edition.
tentacle that had previously blocked his access to the bricks drop down to cut off his intended escape route. Turning, he saw the vast torso leaning toward him, almost on top of him. “Stay and converse, fellow singer of rhythms; loneliness taunts. Rather rage than raconteur, would I—’til now.” “Sure. Glad to have a chat.” Unable to hold off any longer, Walker opened his mouth and took a huge bite out of the food brick he was holding. At that moment, for all he cared, he might as well have been
cargo do. I come from a world called Earth.” “Unknown dwelling place, one among ten thousands, address absent.” Tentacles coiled back against furry flanks while eyestalks remained fully extended above them. “Call me Broullkoun-uvv-ahd-Hrashkin.” Walker paused in his chewing. His jaws hurt, but he was determined to finish as much of the food brick as he could, as quickly as he could. There was no telling when his fellow captive might revert to growls and blows, or when the Vilenjji might decide
than what they had already fled. “I could use a drink,” George murmured. A few moments later, a portal opened in one wall, and three metal canisters glided into the room. Opening the simple lids, the captives were treated to glimpses, smells, and the sheen of water, some kind of powerful alcohol, and in the third canister what Walker thought might be blue-tinted hydrogen peroxide. Eagerly, the foursome took turns at the water. Settling back against a wall and wiping lingering droplets from his
yet remained somehow . . . cold. An odd condition, to say the least, to ascribe to a fire. “It’s comfortable, George. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was ‘swell.’” “You don’t have to go that far,” the dog responded. “Whenever the need arises, I’ll say it for you. ‘This setup is swell.’” Woolly eyebrows narrowed, and his tone grew suddenly serious. “You’re unhappy.” “Not unhappy, George. Not unhappy. Homesick.” The dog let out a disgusted snort and sank his snout deeper into the affectionate
www.delreydigital.com Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request from the publisher. eISBN: 978-0-345-46126-1 v3.0