The Year of the Flood (MaddAddam 2)

"Yes," the man says. He's taller than the others, and seems to be their spokesman. "Snowman is very good. He is our friend." The rest nod, still chewing.

"Then we are his friends too," says Toby. "And we are your friends as well."

"You are like him," says the man. "You have an extra skin, like his. But you have no feathers. Do you live in a tree?"

"Feathers?" says Toby. "On his extra skin?"

"No, on his face," says the man. "Another came, like Snowman. With feathers. And one with him, who had short feathers. And a woman who smelled blue but did not act blue. Perhaps the woman with you is like that?"

Toby nods as if she understands all of this. Maybe she does. I can't ever tell exactly what she understands.

"She smells blue," says another man. "That woman with you." All the men are now sniffing in my direction, as if I'm a flower or maybe a cheese. A number of them have sprouted huge blue erections. Croze warned me about this, but I've never seen anything like it, even at Scales, where some of the clients went in for body paint and extenders. Several of these men are giving out a strange humming sound, like the kind you make by rubbing your finger around the rim of a crystal glass.

"But the other woman that came was frightened when we sang to her and offered her flowers, and signalled to her with our penises," says the chief one.

"Yes. The two men were frightened also. They ran away."

"How tall was she?" says Toby. "The woman. Taller than this one?" She points to me.

"Yes. Taller. She was not well. Also she was sad. We would have purred over her and made her better. Then we could have mated with her."

It must be Amanda, I think. So she's still alive, they haven't killed her yet. Hurry up! I want to shout. But Toby's not going anywhere yet.

"We wished her to choose which four of us she would copulate with," says the main one. "Perhaps the woman with you will choose. She smells very blue!" At this, the men all smile -- they have brilliantly white teeth -- and their penises point at me and wag from side to side like the tails of happy dogs.

Four? All at once? I don't want Toby to shoot any of these men -- they seem so gentle, and they're very good-looking -- but also I don't want those bright-blue penises anywhere near

me.

"My friend isn't really blue," says Toby. "It's just her extra skin. It was given to her by a blue person. That's why she smells blue. Where did they go? These two men and the woman?"

"They went along the shore," says the main one. "And then, this morning, Snowman went to find them."

"We could look under her extra skin and see how blue she is."

"Snowman has a hurt foot. We purred over it, but it needs more purring."

"If Snowman was here, he would find out about the blue. He would tell us how we should act."

"Blue should not be wasted. It is a gift from Crake."

"We wanted to go with him. But he told us to stay here."

"Snowman knows," says one of the women. So far the women have been taking no part in the conversation, but now they all nod and smile.

"We must go now and help Snowman," says Toby. "He is our friend."

"We will come with you," says another man -- a shorter one, yellow in tone, with green eyes. "We will help Snowman too." Now that I notice, they all have green eyes. They smell like citrus fruits.

"Snowman often needs our help," says the tall man. "His smell is weak. It has no power. And this time he is sick. He is sick in his foot. He is limping."

"If Snowman told you to stay here, you must stay here," says Toby. They look at one another: something's worrying them.

"We will stay here," says the tall man. "But you must come back soon."

"And bring Snowman," says one of the women. "So we can help him. Then he can live in his tree again."

"And give him a fish. A fish makes him happy."