Cameras
“What is wrong?” Atlanta sends me a text message, accompanied by a simple rendering of a round, worried face.
“Nothing,” I send back.
She raises an eyebrow. “You look sicker than before.”
I actually feel myself blanch at that blunt assessment.
She huffs. “Let us talk about another topic,” she decides.
A change of topic is very, very good, I think, so I hastily point at one of the circles embedded behind her cell phones.
“It is a camera. The smaller circle is for the flash, for when you want to take a picture in the dark.”
“A camera?”
“A thing for taking pictures. Instantly. Almost wherever. Then you can develop the images and make them more or less tangible.”
I blank out after a handful of words.
Taking pictures. Instantly. Almost wherever.
The three concepts run and run and run in my head, worrying and frightening me more and more and more.
Cameras. On cell phones. To take instant pictures. Almost wherever.
Asgard imports a similar devise from Vanaheim. Priced exorbitantly. Used by the Royal Family and the Justice Court. Using a smidge of one’s life force each time it is activated.
But this young mortal alone has two.