Table of Contents
ALSO BY JASPER FFORDE
The Thursday Next Series
First Among Sequels
Something Rotten
Lost in a Good Book
The Well of Lost Plots
The Eyre Affair
The Nursery Crime Series
The Fourth Bear
The Big Over Easy
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First published in 2009 by Viking Penguin,
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Copyright Jasper Fforde, 2009
All rights reserved
Publishers Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of
the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Fforde, Jasper.
Shades of grey : the road to High Saffron / Jasper Fforde.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-15965-1
1. Color blindnessFiction. I. Title.
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Tabitha
Welcoming you to the undeniably
enjoyable and generally underrated
sense of being known as existence
There is no light or colour as a fact in external nature. There is merely motion of material.... When the light enters your eyes and falls on the retina, there is motion of material. Then your nerves are affected and your brain is affected, and again this is merely motion of material.... The mind in apprehending experiences sensations which, properly speaking, are qualities of the mind alone.
Alfred North Whitehead
A Morning in Vermillion
2.4.16.55.021: Males are to wear dress code #6 during inter-Collective travel. Hats are encouraged but not mandatory.
It began with my father not wanting to see the Last Rabbit and ended up with my being eaten by a carnivorous plant. It wasnt really what Id planned for myselfId hoped to marry into the Oxbloods and join their dynastic string empire. But that was four days ago, before I met Jane, retrieved the Caravaggio and explored High Saffron. So instead of enjoying aspirations of Chromatic advancement, I was wholly immersed within the digestive soup of a yateveo tree. It was all frightfully inconvenient.
But it wasnt all bad, for the following reasons: First, I was lucky to have landed upside down. I would drown in under a minute, which was far, far preferable to being dissolved alive over the space of a few weeks. Second, and more important, I wasnt going to die ignorant. I had discovered something that no amount of merits can buy you: the truth. Not the whole truth, but a pretty big part of it. And that was why this was all frightfully inconvenient. I wouldnt get to do anything with it. And this truth was too big and too terrible to ignore. Still, at least Id held it in my hands for a full hour and understood what it meant.
I didnt set out to discover a truth. I was actually sent to the Outer Fringes to conduct a chair census and learn some humility. But the truth inevitably found me, as important truths often do, like a lost thought in need of a mind. I found Jane, too, or perhaps she found me. It doesnt really matter. We found each other. And although she was Grey and I was Red, we shared a common thirst for justice that transcended Chromatic politics. I loved her, and whats more, I was beginning to think that she loved me. After all, she did apologize before she pushed me into the leafless expanse below the spread of the yateveo, and she wouldnt have done that if shed felt nothing.
So thats why were back here, four days earlier, in the town of Vermillion, the regional hub of Red Sector West. My father and I had arrived by train the day before and overnighted at the Green Dragon. We had attended Morning Chant and were now seated for breakfast, disheartened but not surprised that the early Greys had already taken the bacon, and it remained only in exquisite odor. We had a few hours before our train and had decided to squeeze in some sightseeing.
We could always go and see the Last Rabbit, I suggested. Im told its unmissable.
But Dad was not to be easily swayed by the rabbits uniqueness. He said wed never see the Badly Drawn Map, the Oz Memorial, the color garden and the rabbit before our train departed. He also pointed out that not only did Vermillions museum have the best collection of Vimto bottles anywhere in the Collective, but on Mondays and Thursdays they demonstrated a gramophone.
A fourteen-second clip of Something Got Me Started, he said, as if something vaguely Red-related would swing it.
But I wasnt quite ready to concede my choice.
The rabbits getting pretty old, I persisted, having read the safety briefing in the How Best to Enjoy Your Rabbit Experience leaflet, and petting is no longer mandatory.
Its not the petting, said Dad with a shudder, its the ears. In any event, he continued with an air of finality, I can have a productive and fulfilling life having never seen a rabbit.
This was true, and so could I. It was just that Id promised my best friend, Fenton, and five others that I would log the lonely buns Taxa number on their behalf and thus allow them to note it as proxy seen in their animal-spotter books. Id even charged them twenty-five cents each for the privilegethen blew the lot on licorice for Constance and a new pair of synthetic red shoelaces for me.
Dad and I bartered like this for a while, and he eventually agreed to visit all of the towns attractions but in a circular manner, to save on shoe leather. The rabbit came last, after the color garden.
So, having conceded to at least include the rabbit in the mornings entertainment, Dad returned to his toast, tea and copy of Spectrum