BooksBarbecue
Back Dead Astronauts Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1. The Dream of the Blue Fox
  5. 1. THE DREAM OF THE BLUE FOX
  6. 2. THE THREE
  7. i.
  8. ii.
  9. iii.
  10. iv.
  11. v.
  12. vi.
  13. vii.
  14. viii.
  15. ix.
  16. x.
  17. xi.
  18. xii.
  19. xiii.
  20. xiv.
  21. xv.
  22. xvi.
  23. xvii.
  24. xviii.
  25. xix.
  26. xx.
  27. 3. Botch Behemoth
  28. 3. BOTCH BEHEMOTH
  29. 4. CAN’T REMEMBER
  30. 5. Leviathan
  31. 5. LEVIATHAN
  32. 6. THE BODY
  33. – 7 –
  34. 7. Corpse
  35. 7. CORPSE
  36. 8. The Dark Bird
  37. 8. THE DARK BIRD
  38. 9. CAN’T FORGET
  39. i.
  40. ii.
  41. iii.
  42. 10. The Dead Astronaut
  43. 10. THE DEAD ASTRONAUT
  44. 0. A Scrap of Paper Found in Chen’s Suit
  45. 0. A SCRAP OF PAPER FOUND IN CHEN’S SUIT
  46. Also by Jeff Vandermeer
  47. A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  48. Newsletter Sign-up

when i am weak
then i am strong

v.7.0 The desert foxes, snapping their jaws and joyous, ate up what was left of Moss. They gamboled and leapt across the mist and meadow of her corpse and devoured her bit by bit.
v.6.9 There was in their feral appetite a reverie beyond judgment.
v.6.8 The poison meant nothing to their physiology, had not been meant for them.
v.6.7 They were the antidote.
v.6.6 As they gorged, one by one, they would:
v.6.5 Wink out:
v.6.4 Blink back in:
v.6.3 Disappear:
v.6.2 Reappear:
v.6.1 Again,
v.6.0 again.
v.5.9 Again.
v.5.8 A few feet away.
v.5.7 Atop a hill.
v.5.6 Down in the ravine, barking their way back up.
v.5.5 In the shadow of the Balcony Cliffs again.
v.5.4 Register: Delirious faux-fox surprise. Deliciousness of tiny journeys, miniature doors in the air.

Thus Grayson knew they were scientists in their way, performing their research in the laboratories of their own bodies. That they were serious as death underneath the frivolousness.

She did not hate them for their meal. Moss as Grayson had known her was no longer there. But Grayson still had to look away. Focused on the far horizon. Focused on Chen.

Who was beyond Grayson’s ability to repair. Whose hand she held as long as it remained a hand. Took from it the scrap of paper Chen offered up to her, put it in her pocket unread.

It was then that the blue fox found Grayson, there in the shadow of the Balcony Cliffs. The blue fox was much larger. Almost wolflike. The blue fox’s eyes glowed and glittered with stars. Wept tiny stars like tears, which fell onto the sand and disappeared. By which Grayson knew it was illusion, some aftershock, some trauma pouring out not from the fox but from her.

“You are a little late,” Grayson said, not without bitterness. Although she knew how illogical it was to think of the fox as an ally.

“I am exactly as early as I should be,” the blue fox said, and right into her mind. “That you might understand you are not the future when you offered me your gifts.”

Grayson knew the true gifts were what was left of Moss.

“What am I if not for the future?” Chen managed to say, choking on his new brethren, which made of him such a meal that it was a wonder he could say anything at all. So divided of mind he had become. Salamanders writhed within the jaded helmet. Played there in an ecstatic myth and muddle. Equations searching for the right detonation.

“A good man, for a human,” the blue fox said.

“No. I am not.”

Last words. First words.