Blue

Chapter 272,178 wordsCompleted

At nine a.m. Snowman leaves the Fish Path and heads inland, barefoot, navigating broken glass, metal shards and the threat of snakes while swarms of green biting flies surround him. He hears a bobkitten’s warning bark; the engineered bobkittens were created to control the proliferating green rabbits but have become predators themselves, attacking small dogs, infants and joggers outside the secure compounds. Snowman remains vigilant for tracks, overhanging branches and especially nocturnal wolvogs, which he notes sleep during daylight. He passes a decaying drive‑in campsite with a fungus‑covered picnic table and bindweed‑choked barbecue, while distant laughter and singing hint at a mating gathering.

Snowman recalls Crake’s engineered reproductive system: women’s abdomens turn bright blue during estrus—a pigment borrowed from baboons and octopus chromophores. Males present flowers, sing, and perform a synchronized “blue‑dick” dance; the female selects four flowers, after which a quartet of males mates with her in an extended marathon. Crake equipped these women with ultra‑strong vulvas to endure the activity, presenting the system as the end of prostitution, rape, jealousy and other sexual torments.

A flashback inserts a conversation between Jimmy (now calling himself Jim) and Crake from their early‑twenties at the Watson‑Crick Institute. Crake argues that eliminating “courtship” would eradicate misery, turning humans into “hormone robots” whose mating always succeeds. Jimmy defends art, citing Byron, Petrarch, John Donne and his own studies at the Martha Graham Academy, and worries that Crake’s plan removes creative struggle. Crake counters that art is merely an “amplifier” for sexual display, likening it to a male frog using a drainpipe to sound larger, and dismisses female artists as “biologically confused.” Their debate touches on Jimmy’s romantic involvement with a poet named Morgana, who is on a 28‑day sex fast honoring the moon goddess Oestre.

Leaning against a tree, Snowman internalizes the utopian vision: no jealousy, no “wife‑butcherers,” no sexual abuse—only a consensual, athletic spectacle. Yet he feels dejected, alienated, and wonders why he remains an outcast, pleading “Where’s my Bride of Frankenstein?” A disembodied woman’s voice briefly urges him to “cheer up,” but the forest swallows the distant singing. Resigned, Snowman continues his solitary trek, his thoughts drifting like colourless bubbles as the laughter fades behind him.