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DOMAIN
by Steve Alten
(Tor/Forge, 379 pages, hc, $25.95, 2001)

Ah, Doubleday's infamous release of Steve Alten's debut novel Meg . it seems like only yesterday instead of nearly four years ago. Since its followup, The Trench, was more of the same, there seemed no point to revisiting such painful territory. But now that he's on his third novel (and third publisher, too) with his plotting sights much higher this time, how does Alten handle it when he tackles the threat of nothing less than the end of all life on earth?

Well, the job he does here is surprisingly . adequate. And let's give credit where credit is due. The basic premise is pretty darned intriguing: Hey, remember that asteroid that plowed into the earth sixty-five million years ago and snuffed out the dinosaurs? What if it wasn't really an asteroid?

To be sure, Domain is not a great novel, but it does mark real improvement for a writer who, in terms of quality if not the marketing priority accorded his first release, had nowhere to go but up. Alten has finally scooted out from underneath the shadow of Peter Benchley and spends his time sprinting beneath more varied shadows this time, mostly those of The X-Files, Tom Clancy, and Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End. Add H.P. Lovecraft to the list, too, given the dour tone of the journal entry that begins the novel, as its archaeologist scribe dwells on his misery, failures, and what a crackpot everyone thinks he is. Following this is a prologue set on that fateful day in the late Cretaceous Period, written with all the omniscience of Carl Sagan as your tour guide: "Let us examine this galactic hub."

After these dual set-ups, the story finally settles down into the autumn of 2012, as young psychiatry grad Dominique Vazquez starts her internship at a Florida asylum. Her first assignment is to evaluate Michael Gabriel (detect any symbolism yet?), the son of the journal-keeping archaeologist. Michael has spent the last eleven years in solitary confinement after assaulting Pierre Borgia, a former colleague of his father who humiliated him into a fatal heart attack at a Harvard symposium. Dominique's first assessment: "He's cute." Yeah, it's just that kind of novel. And so you'll know upfront, Borgia is now the U.S. Secretary of State, his former fiancee was Michael's mother, and Dominique's adoptive parents just happen to have a two-person mini-sub docked on their oceanfront property, which will of course become very very important. It's just that kind of novel too.

If the year 2012 rings a bell, that may be because you have a passing familiarity with the ancient Mayan calendar, which ominously cites that year's Winter Solstice as the end of the present age. The Gabriel family has more than a passing familiarity with it; it's been a multigenerational obsession. As our calendar advances toward December 21st and a series of increasingly strange events occurs around the Yucatan Peninsula and the K/T impact crater, nothing will do but that Michael Gabriel bust loose and save the world.

By far the most compelling parts of Domain are the senior Gabriel's extensive journal entries interspersed throughout. It's mainly a means of conveying loads of engaging information about Mesoamerica, the Giza plateau, Stonehenge, the Nazca lines, Ankgor Wat, and other mysterious sites, supplemented with numerous photos and illustrations. Alten has obviously taken a high dive into the works of Graham Hancock and others who maintain a fascination with ancient megalithic architecture and feats of prehistoric engineering that could scarcely be duplicated even today. It's also pretty clever the way he ties it all together with Mayan prophecy and various cross-cultural myths, not to mention a sixty-five-million-year-old battle between alien races.

While the global brinksmanship into limited nuclear war is plenty tense, whether or not you regard the novel's breakneck pace as virtue or vice will depend on your tolerance for having dozens of secondary and tertiary characters hurled at you from all angles. From Florida retirees to the White House upper echelon to gung-ho soldiers, there's virtually no time allotted to distinguishing most of them from one another. And when he doesn't have the journal trick to rely on, Alten has trouble smoothly integrating his voluminous research into the flow. Too many expository passages read like encyclopedia entries, and in seemingly trying to cram in every tidbit, some of it reads just plain nonsensical: "When it comes to charting unexplored passages, Wade knows Andrew is second to none, a caver exuding a strong case of 'booty scoop lust,' an incurable psychological condition common among 'Speleo-boppers.'" Well sure, who can argue with that?

In the end summation, Domain may be mindless, but it's not contemptible, and if that sounds like damnation by faint praise, again, remember we're talking about the author of Meg. You can enjoy Domain in the same way you might enjoy a cheesy movie that has just enough sincerity to temper the groans. But while it may end, don't expect it to conclude. The sequel, Resurrection, is on its way.

Yep, it's just that kind of novel, most of all.