A devious corporation attacks a farm commune in former Vermont where one scientist just might be able to save the planet.

Arcadia’s defense corps is mobilized to fend off what first appears to be a routine assault, one of the many that the community must repulse from paramilitary forces every year. But as sensors report a breach in the perimeter wall, even eighty-year-old Rachel Leopold shoulders a weapon and reports for duty.

The attack, it turns out, has been orchestrated by one of the world’s largest corporations, CRISPR International, and it is interested in stopping Rachel’s research into stopping global warming. As Arcadia prepares to defend itself against the next CRISPR attack, Rachel contacts Emmanuel Puig, the foremost scholar of her ex-husband’s work, to get information that she can use to stop CRISPR. Arcadia intersperses the action with short reports from Emmanuel on his interactions with Rachel as they meet, via virtual reality, in different parts of the world—Brussels, Ningxia, and finally Darwin. The novel concludes with an explosive, unexpected twist that forces a re-evaluation of all that has come before.

Praise for Frostlands

“A worthy sequel to the thought-provoking Splinterlands, Frostlands is triumphant and absorbing science fiction, full of ecological and societal warnings. It is a unique and imaginative look at a future Earth scarred by environmental neglect.” —Foreword Reviews

“Feffer expands the urgent environmental warnings of Splinterlands in a slim, standalone sequel that’s equally dire and sinister but more leisurely paced . . . . Devotees of near-future science fiction adventures will root for resolute and energetic Rachel on her quest to save Earth.” —Publishers Weekly

“By taking us on a cautionary journey into a future planetary collapse where the term “one per cent” is redefined in a terrifying way, John Feffer forces us to look deeply at our own society’s blindness to ecological apocalypse and greed. But the novel’s enchantment goes beyond dystopia: the quest for salvation depends on a crusty female octogenarian who would make Wonder Woman salivate with envy.” —Ariel Dorfman