文字版 这一章的文字版——用于无障碍、屏幕阅读器和搜索。
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.
第 1 页
Panel 1: A vast black-blue abyss. Tiny on the silt floor sits a barnacle-crusted orange case, a thin cyan line glowing along its lid. A voice from the case: '1,204,510.' Panel 2: The same view; the glow is fainter. The case: '1,204,511.' Panel 3: A huge rusted iron dredge claw sinks from above in a column of bubbles and light, its fingers opening over the case. The case: '1,204,512.'
第 2 页
Panel 1: The claw's iron fingers close around the case. Its cyan glow dies. The case: '...' Panel 2: Total darkness. A child's whisper: '3...' Panel 3: Looking up from sleeping Roka's face: Biber, a red-haired girl, dangles a bulging bag of seawater over him while big Kabak and little Bamya, holding a yellow toy duck, grin beside her. Bamya: '4...' Panel 4: The knot slips from Biber's fingers, a drop falling. Bamya: '5...'
第 3 页
The bag of water bursts over Roka's face in a starburst of sunlit spray. He jolts awake on his back against stacked yellow crates, eyes wide, arms flailing. Roka: 'GAAAH!'