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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

“Come to rest, then. Come to rest,” she thought the blue ghost had whispered, after. “Under the moon. Come back to us.”

But she couldn’t.

v.7.0

Somewhere out in the City, the rest of the foxes were playing. Learning. The duck still stood sentinel. The leviathan lumbered between holding ponds. She spun out into the desert. Blind. Unaware. Reckless. Stripped of sense. Unable in that moment to recover herself. The three dead astronauts behind her.

Her mind would be empty, the fox had told her. By the time the dead astronaut remembered “Grayson,” she would be well out in the desert. The City would be gone. The City would be a mirage in the back of her skull, blooming ever fainter.

Funny. How everything changed so quickly. She could keep going, but only if she headed away from where Moss had left her.

The coast beckoned. Maybe Moss was there. Another Moss. Except this time, she would lift no finger to bring Moss into her plans. No, they would ignore the world. Shut it out as long as they were able.

“Do you know if it will be enough? In the end?” the dead astronaut had asked the fox.

The blue fox regarded the dead astronaut with a curious gaze. As if looking at something unknown and trying to identify it.

“We’re not like you. We won’t be like you.”

The dead astronaut dropped her gun into the sand.

“If we die, we die.”

She loosened the straps of her pack, let it drop to the sand.

“But we will be joyous in our death and laughing and light of foot.”

She took off her coat, left it there, behind her.

These seeds in her pocket—what use now?—and so she let them fall, too.

All the useless things. The signature of purpose. The imprint of grand design or any design at all.

Walked out into the desert. Did not look back. Beneath these stars, those planets, as the night sky opened up. Intimate coordinates. Intimate destinations. Such tiny fractures in reality, and yet all of them growing.

She did not know then if it was a problem with her eye or with the world.

How long would it take to find the end? Grayson didn’t know.

3. Botch Behemoth

v.5.02

3. BOTCH BEHEMOTH

For a long time, the giant fish did not realize he was different. For a long time after, Botch roamed the holding ponds no different than before. Other than a lingering intent that clung to the gleaming scales, that teased gentle teased lonely along bold white scars.

At dusk, a holy gloaming made Botch glow a deep, rich green. Brief beacon of the holding ponds. Before this quality extinguished as Botch stared at himself in the water. As if a presence had recognized the gleam, snuffed out the light so as not to be seen. Must not be gleaned.