Fiction

The Ocean In The Eye.

There’s only one ocean. It covers the third of the sphere. Being the only coast line to a great and endless sea, upon which humanity could forever question and stare, it was crafted to the maximum grandness.
Waterfalls and cliffs, secret caves and silver beaches, woven into the very sculpture of the sphere. It was, Niobe knew, the perfect art of design.
She didn’t know how the various aspects looked in unison to the eye, but she felt it in the feedback of information. The correct ecology, the frequency of attendance, the appreciation timing showed of the sunrise light pattern and the sunset shutdown and switch to night pattern.
She tried to express this beauty to Jaxon but he was distracted by Wills. The only light in Niobe’s office came from the glow of the walls, woven with relays. In this cool cup of neon light the blink of red behind Wills eye stood out, slow and hypnotic. Blink. Blink. Blink.
“Your eye,” Jaxon muttered.
“Not important, pay attention.” Wills snapped.
“Oh,” Niobe laughed, “But it is important.”

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