Plastic Sea — What's Left, Página 43
Por Inkroost · Publicado em
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Transcrição
Panel 1: From Roka's point of view, his chrome right hand rises in front of a ring of staring deckhands, the eye glancing from face to face. Tohum: 'Twelve. Thirteen.' 'Fourteen...' Panel 2: Roka holds the forearm across his chest; the eye looks up and meets his stare. Roka: 'What are you counting?' Tohum: 'What's left.'
Descrição da imagem
From Roka's view, the eye on his raised chrome hand counts the staring crowd; then it looks up at him and answers, what's left.
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.