Once the Gardener Adams and Eves taught you something, you stayed taught. It would have been next to impossible for her to kill the Painballers on that particular night — butcher them in cold blood, since by that time the two of them were firmly roped to a tree.
Amanda and Ren had done the roping. They’d been to Gardener school together where they’d done a lot of crafts with recycled materials, so they were proficient at knotwork. Those guys looked like macramé.
On that blessed Saint Julian’s evening, Toby had set the weaponry to one side — her own antiquated rifle and the Painballers’ spraygun, and Jimmy’s spraygun as well. Then she’d played the kindly godmother, ladling out the soup, dividing up the nutrients for all to share.
She must have been mesmerized by the spectacle of her own nobility and kindness. Getting everyone to sit in a circle around the cozy evening fire and drink soup together — even Amanda, who was so traumatized she was almost catatonic; even Jimmy, who was shivering with fever and talking to a dead woman who was standing in the flames. Even the two Painballers: did she really think they would have a conversion experience and start hugging bunnies? It’s a wonder she didn’t sermonize as she doled out the bone soup. Some for you, and some for you, and some for you! Shed the hatred and viciousness! Come into the circle of light!
But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you’ve had a little, you start shaking if you don’t get more.
As they were eating the soup, they’d heard voices approaching through the shoreline trees. It was the Children of Crake, the Crakers — the strange gene-spliced quasi-humans who lived by the sea. They were filing through the trees, carrying pitch-pine torches and singing their crystalline songs.
Toby had seen these people only briefly, and in daytime. Gleaming in the moonlight and the torchlight, they were even more beautiful. They were all colours — brown, yellow, black, white — and all heights, but each was perfect. The women were smiling serenely; the men were in full courtship mode, holding out bunches of flowers, their naked bodies like a fourteen-year-old’s comic-book rendition of how bodies ought to be, each muscle and ripple defined and glistening. Their bright blue and unnaturally large penises were wagging from side to side like the tails of friendly dogs.
Afterwards, Toby could never quite remember the sequence of events, if you could call it a sequence. It had been more like a pleebland street brawclass="underline" rapid action, tangled bodies, a cacophony of voices.
Where is the blue? We can smell the blue! Look, there is Snowman! He is thin! He is very sick!
Ren: Oh shit, it’s the Crakers. What if they want … Look at their … Crap!
The Craker women, spotting Jimmy: Let us help Snowman! He needs us to purr!
The Craker men, sniffing Amanda: She is the blue one! She smells blue! She wants to mate with us! Give her the flowers! She will be happy!
Amanda, scared: Stay away! I don’t … Ren, help me! Four large, beautiful, flower-toting naked men close in on her. Toby! Get them away from me! Shoot them!
The Craker women: She is sick. First we have to purr on her. To make her better. And give her a fish?
The Craker men: She is blue! She is blue! We are happy! Sing to her!
The other one is blue also.
That fish is for Snowman. We must keep that fish.
Ren: Amanda, maybe just take the flowers, or they might get mad or something …
Toby, her voice thin and ineffectuaclass="underline" Please, listen, stand back, you’re frightening …
What is this? Is this a bone? Several of the women, peering into the soup pot: Are you eating this bone? It smells bad.
We do not eat bones. Snowman does not eat bones, he eats a fish. Why do you eat a smelly bone?
It is Snowman’s foot that is smelling like a bone. A bone left by vultures. Oh Snowman, we must purr on your foot!
Jimmy, feverish: Who are you? Oryx? But you’re dead. Everyone’s dead. Everyone in the whole world, they’re all dead … He starts crying.
Do not be sad, Oh Snowman. We have come to help.
Toby: Maybe you shouldn’t touch … that’s infected … he needs …
Jimmy: Ow! Fuck!
Oh Snowman, do not kick. It will hurt your foot. Several of them begin to purr, making a noise like a kitchen mixer.
Ren, calling for help: Toby! Toby! Hey! Let go of her!
Toby looks over, across the fire: Amanda has disappeared in a flickering thicket of naked male limbs and backs. Ren throws herself into the sprawl and is quickly submerged.
Toby: Wait! Don’t … Stop that! What should she do? This is a major cultural misunderstanding. If only she had a pail of cold water!
Muffled cries. Toby rushes to help, but then:
One of the Painballers: Hey you! Over here!
These ones smell very bad. They smell like dirty blood. Where is the blood?
What is this? This is a rope. Why are they tied up with a rope?
Snowman showed us rope before, when he lived in a tree. Rope is for making his house. Oh Snowman, why is the rope tied to these men?
This rope is hurting these ones. We must take it away.
A Painballer: Yeah, that’s right. We’re in fucking agony. (Groans.)
Toby: Don’t touch them, they’ll …
The second Painballer: Fucking hurry up, Blueballs, before that old bitch …
Toby: No! Don’t untie … Those men will …
But it was already too late. Who knew the Crakers could be so quick with knots?
Procession
The two men were gone into the darkness, leaving behind them a snarl of rope and a scattering of embers. Idiot, Toby thought. You should have been merciless. Bashed their heads in with a rock, slit their throats with your knife, not even wasted any bullets on them. You were a dimwit, and your failure to act verges on criminal negligence.
It was hard to see — the fire was fading — but she made a quick inventory: at least her rifle was still there, a small mercy. But the Painballer spraygun was missing. Pinhead, she told herself. So much for your Saint Julian and the loving kindness of the universe.
Amanda and Ren were clinging to each other and crying, with several of the beautiful Craker women stroking them anxiously. Jimmy had toppled over and was talking to a bed of coals. The sooner they could all get back to the MaddAddam cobb house, the better, because they were sitting ducks out here in the dark. The Painballers might come back for the remaining weapons, and if that happened it was already clear to Toby that these Crakers would be no help. Why did you hit me? Crake will be angry! He will send a thunder! If she downed a Painballer, the Crakers would throw themselves between her and the finishing shot. Oh, you have made bang, a man fell down, there is a hole in him, blood is coming out! He is hurt, we must help him!