Ammonite

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This is a first novel. It took a while to get to this point. I want to thank the following people for their help along the way: Lyall Watson, from whose Gifts of Unknown Things I borrowed ideas; the students and teachers of Clarion ’88; David Pringle; my sisters, Julie and Carolyn and Anne; all those who have helped in their various ways with my struggles to stay in this country, especially Peter Pautz, Kate Wilhelm, Damon Knight, Lisa Goldstein, Stan Robinson, Tim Powers, and Jim Blaylock; Fran Collin; Ellen Key Harris; and all the people who put up with my tirades,, they know who they are.

Special love and thanks go to:

Carol Taylor

for all those years of faith, love and encouragement and

my parents, Margot and Eric Griffith,

for everything.

MARGHE’S SUIT WAS still open at neck and wrist, and the helmet rested in the crook of her left arm. An ID flash was sealed to her shoulder: “Marguerite Angelica Taishan, SEC.” The suit was wrinkled and smelled of just-unrolled plastic, and she felt heavy and awkward, even in the two-thirds gravity of orbital station Estrade.

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