Ice-nine is Dr. Felix Hoenikker’s invention, conceived at the request of the U.S. marines in order to solve the “problem” of mud. It is a molecular material that teaches water to change its chemical structure and freeze into solid form, without any need for a reduction in temperature. It is an ingenious invention with grave implications, and thus represents humankind’s capacity for scientific invention and, crucially, the talent for putting that invention to cruel and harmful use. Amazingly, the idea was actually suggested to Vonnegut by a real-life Nobel scientist. Ice-nine technology is based on a fundamental understanding of water—one of the building blocks of life—just as the atomic bomb required an incredible understanding of the most basic structures of the physical world. Ice-nine, then, like the atomic bomb, represents humanity’s undeniable capacity for knowledge—but this is offset by the fact that it uses this knowledge to destroy itself.
Ice-Nine Quotes in Cat’s Cradle
“If the streams flowing through the swamp froze as ice-nine, what about the rivers and lakes the streams fed?”
“They’d freeze. But there is no such thing as ice-nine.”
“And the oceans the frozen rivers fed?”
“They’d freeze, of course,” he snapped. “I suppose you’re going to rush to market with a sensational story about ice-nine now. I tell you again, it does not exist!”
“And the springs feeding the frozen lakes and streams, and all the water underground feeding the springs?”
“They’d freeze, damn it!” he cried. “But if I had known that you were a member of the yellow press,” he said grandly, rising to his feet, “I wouldn’t have wasted a minute with you!”
“And the rain?”
“When it fell, it would freeze into hard little hob nails of ice-nine—and that would be the end of the world! And the end of the interview, too! Good-bye!”
From what Frank had said before he slammed the door, I gathered that the Republic of San Lorenzo and the three Hoenikkers weren’t the only ones who had ice-nine. Apparently the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics had it, too. The United States had obtained it through Angela’s husband, whose plant in Indianapolis was understandably surrounded by electrified fences and homicidal German shepherds. And Soviet Russia had come by it through Newt’s little Zinka, that winsome troll of Ukrainian ballet.
If I were a younger man, I would write a history of human stupidity; and I would climb to the top of Mount McCabe and lie down on my back with my history for a pillow; and I would take from the ground some of the blue-white poison that makes statues of men; and I would make a statue of myself, lying on my back, grinning horribly, and thumbing my nose at You Know Who.