Plastic Sea — What's Left, Página 31
Por Inkroost · Publicado em
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Transcrição
Roka sprawls on the steel floor, holding his right arm away from himself. From below the elbow to his fingertips it is glossy black chrome with an oil-slick sheen and glowing cyan and magenta lines. On the back of his hand, a round eye with a cyan iris has opened.
Descrição da imagem
Roka sits on the floor in horror, his right forearm now black chrome with glowing lines and an eye on the back of the hand.
Sobre este capítulo
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.