Plastic Sea (PT) — What's Left, Page 43
By Inkroost · Published
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Transcript
Painel 1: Do ponto de vista de Roka, sua mão direita cromada se ergue diante de um círculo de marinheiros do convés que o encaram, enquanto o olho passa de rosto em rosto. Tohum: 'Doze. Treze.' 'Quatorze...' Painel 2: Roka mantém o antebraço atravessado sobre o peito; o olho olha para cima e encontra seu olhar. Roka: 'O que você está contando?' Tohum: 'O que resta.'
Image description
Do ponto de vista de Roka, o olho em sua mão cromada erguida conta a multidão que o encara; então olha para ele e responde: o que resta.
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.