Dead Astronauts
Chapters (48)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Epigraph
- 1. The Dream of the Blue Fox
- 1. THE DREAM OF THE BLUE FOX
- 2. THE THREE
- i.
- ii.
- iii.
- iv.
- v.
- vi.
- vii.
- viii.
- ix.
- x.
- xi.
- xii.
- xiii.
- xiv.
- xv.
- xvi.
- xvii.
- xviii.
- xix.
- xx.
- 3. Botch Behemoth
- 3. BOTCH BEHEMOTH
- 4. CAN’T REMEMBER
- 5. Leviathan
- 5. LEVIATHAN
- 6. THE BODY
- – 7 –
- 7. Corpse
- 7. CORPSE
- 8. The Dark Bird
- 8. THE DARK BIRD
- 9. CAN’T FORGET
- i.
- ii.
- iii.
- 10. The Dead Astronaut
- 10. THE DEAD ASTRONAUT
- 0. A Scrap of Paper Found in Chen’s Suit
- 0. A SCRAP OF PAPER FOUND IN CHEN’S SUIT
- Also by Jeff Vandermeer
- A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
Title Page
Copyright Notice
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Epigraph
And when I dream
I keep my promises to you
I really do.
—HOT SNAKES
7 “What version is this?”
7 “Zero. It’s version zero.”
7 “Do you trust me?”
7 “I do.”
7 “Do you love me?”
7 “I do.”
7 “Hold on to me, then.”
7 “I will.”
7 “Even when I’m not me.”
7 “I will, Moss.”
| 0 | “And I will always be there.” |
| Even before I know you. | |
| Even after I’ve known you. | |
| Even then. |
1. The Dream of the Blue Fox
| v.1.0 |
1. THE DREAM OF THE BLUE FOX |
So they ran threaded through the breaches, found the seams. So they ran with a memory of the City without buildings. So they navigated two worlds: the new and the old. When the ancient seabed had been green with reeds and lakes and the low salt-poisoned trees with their thick moss-encrusted limbs upon which they might sleep.
Now they must come to rest on half-collapsed roofs and in the shadows of the great rocks out in the desert. Now they must dream where they could and trust in the lookout who would not sleep. Must trust in how thought danced from mind to mind. How there was nothing but a lightness to that. How they knew each other’s will.
They were the color of sand, which might shift and stall, pass between the paws unnoticed, but would never not be there. Would never become weathered down because it was already what it was meant to become.
One from another in the night they snapped at the winking rescue lights of giant fireflies. Savored the crunch of wing, the collapse of carapace. Let in the coolness of the dark. Played games in the aftermath, searched for hidden water, dug their own shallow wells. Licked at the salt when needed. Mated and had cubs. Sometimes looked up at the stars distant and for a moment contemplated what lay beyond. Even though it meant nothing more to them than the fireflies.
Until Nocturnalia.
Until the blue fox.
For one night there came a flare of blue across the heavens and a nimble quicksilver thought in their heads that was both familiar and strange. They sat at the border between the desert and the City. Hearts pumping fast. Motionless but ready to leap, to run, to bite.
Out across the desert came the Source. At a trot. With a familiar grin of fangs. The blue fox. Larger than them by half. Projecting to them what he wanted to project.
Love. Power. Fate. Destiny. Chance.
Showing them another world. Another way.