Frank is a clock mechanic, set out to replace a broken loop in 2018, but when Luz, the friend he shouldn't have made sees more than she should've, the simple tasks he was given turns into a mission to save the world.
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The world doesn't live on beca...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
Minutes pass. Long, rain-filled minutes. I can feel the water on my skin, having pushed all the way in through my jacket. Luz has moved her cardigan over her head, a makeshift unsupported umbrella. She looks at me with wide eyes, the emotions in them have changed.
She's no longer curious. She's impatient.
"Can I go home now?" she asks as I stare at my watch. "I'm cold and wet."
"I understand." I give her a remorseful look. "But until they announce that all is clear, we can't move."
A quiet curse slips through her lips. She slumps back against the car, eyes forward. The rain refuses to stop and as I look up at the sky, at the clouds obscuring the sun, I realize I am wrong.
Rain can hurt.
Or maybe it isn't the rain.
"It shouldn't be long now," I try to reassure her. "They'll finish this sweep and call me. That's when I know the coast is clear."
"Call you?" She lifts her cardigan up just a bit to glance at me. "Why will they call you?"
I glance down at the watch on my wrist. The Hions had moved in circles for most of the time we had waited in the rain. I can only assume they passed around the clockwork machine, above it, inside it—the space wasn't wide enough for much else.
But for the last minute or so, they weren't moving. Each remains in its own spot, like a circle of ducks.
I clear my throat and look at Luz once more. "I'll be alerted if an all-clear signal because I need to go back inside and repair the clock."
Luz blinks at me, water dripping off her lashes. "And then I can go home?"
I nod, smiling, "Yes."
A sense of relief falls over her. I can see it on her face, in her body language. The way her shoulders relax, hands pulling her cardigan closer to her head, makes me smile more. Even like this... she's still the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.
"Galaxy Enforcement report," a voice sounds in my ear. My head snaps up and I look at the building hiding the clockwork system. I listen as the voice continues, "There is currently no presence detectable within the machine's chambers."
A small chuckle leaves me as I sigh in relief. Luz looks at me, and when we lock eyes, I wink at her. A silent, "We're going to be okay."
"While there is no physical presence," the voice speaks again and I hold my breath, "we do detect the particle remnants of a human. Female."
Every part of me feels cold.
"We're transmitting cosmic footage of her silhouette recorded by Earth's cells."
Frip! How could I forget the tiny stars and particles floating around the clockwork machine weren't just pretty specks of dirt and dust? Like fingerprints, they identify the layers of this ancient planet. And whatever they "touch" leaves imprints within the Earth's core. Memories.
