Plastic Sea (FR) — What's Left, Page 43
By Inkroost · Published
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Transcript
Case 1 : Du point de vue de Roka, sa main droite chromée se lève devant un cercle de matelots qui le dévisagent, l'œil passant d'un visage à l'autre. Tohum : « Douze. Treize. » « Quatorze… » Case 2 : Roka tient son avant-bras en travers de sa poitrine ; l'œil lève les yeux vers lui et croise son regard. Roka : « Qu'est-ce que tu comptes ? » Tohum : « Ce qu'il reste. »
Image description
Du point de vue de Roka, l'œil sur sa main chromée levée compte la foule qui le fixe ; puis il lève les yeux vers lui et répond : ce qu'il reste.
About this chapter
In the dark at the bottom of the sea, something is counting. On Candyreef, a candy-coloured island of floating trash, Roka wakes to a water bag in the face from his street crew, lifts breakfast from the old woman who would have fed him anyway, and tells the kid who follows him that he doesn't owe anybody. Then the gulls lift all at once, and a Maw eats half the island. A day and a night alone at sea later, the Garden Ship fishes him out and orders him to walk its treadwheels for fish heads. Roka is nobody's slave, so he goes looking for something to steal instead, and breaks into a barnacled case dredged from the seabed. The silver dust inside climbs into his arm and says hello. It is polite. It is curious. It wants every human dead. And it has just started counting again.