A blue, clear sky over an endless expanse of water spreading in all directions, no land or clouds in sight. A bank of fish splashes near the old fishing boat as it cuts wavelets across the near-flat ocean, undeterred by the engine's deafening buzz.
A round folding table with a selection of sandwiches, energy bars, beers, and water bottles stands under the shadow of the gantry's metal structure. Around the plastic table, three bare-chested female crewmembers eat and laugh, each one sporting a different combination of breast sizes, old battle scars and intricate pixel tattoos.
The muscular woman with a buzz rolls little balls of bread which she throws over her shoulder as she retells a nasty sex anecdote to her laughing coworkers, fish spiral in a whirlpool whenever another piece of bread hits the water.
"Hey, hey dude…" she waves at the thin woman with braided hair once their laughs diminish, "Check this."
She rolls another piece of bread, aims theatrically, and throws it to the other side of the deck lit by the sun where it sticks to the sweat-drenched skin of one of the nude boys hanging by their wrists under the gantry. The three women burst out laughing.
The boy doesn't seem to notice, his body and head —still covered with the golden sack— hangs limp, his fighting energy having been depleted a long time ago. The sweaty bodies of four boys sway and smack with one another as the boat bobs in the water. Another piece of bread lands in the chest of one of them, then the next piece barely misses his small penis, the three women boo and laugh.
Inside the boat's cabin, the Boss watches the scene with an expressionless face, a hand in the wheel while the other holds the phone which displays a nautical map with big white digits changing constantly. Despite the overwhelming heat, the old woman is still wearing her blue foul weather jacket, only now with the zipper down to her clavicle, allowing more of her intricate neck tattoos to be visible.
She looks at the phone and sees the decimal point on the largest number in the map change from 9 to 0. She grabs the binoculars, scans the horizon for signs of any other vessels, and cuts the throttle.
The diesel engine slows down in a long series of languishing coughs until it stops completely, returning the calm to the ocean. The hot, soupy air is left silent except for the sound of wavelets against the hull, the groans of metal and wood as the old vessel sways, and the ongoing competition between the three women playing darts with the captured boys.
The Boss steps out of the cabin, typing non-stop on the phone. The three women immediately cut their laughter and stand up.
"Have they pee'ed already?" the old woman asks no one in particular, then continues without waiting for an answer, "Good, prepare this new batch for introduction." she points at the tall woman in blue pants "And that dumb toy inside your eyes better work this time. I'm getting tired of repeating myself again and again."
The woman in blue gulps and nods, taps her temple, causing red rings to flash in her pupils. The Boss sighs, shakes her head, and continues typing non-stop on the phone while the three crewmembers readjust the gantry's wires and hooks to separate the hanging boys, forcing them to stand in a line with their arms held up facing the aft of the vessel.
Once in place, the women kneel behind each boy, separate their legs, and tie PVC pipes about 2 feet long to their ankles. The kids squirm and jump in place trying to stop them from holding them in this new, more vulnerable position, but their attempts are half-hearted due to their sheer exhaustion.
Once all the captured boys stand spread and ready, the women put back their bulky foul weather jackets and smooth, featureless masks with no mouth or eyeholes. One of the women offers a mask to the Boss, but the elder woman shakes her head, barely acknowledging her as she continues typing.
"It's easier when they see your face." she murmurs.
The woman nods, puts the mask away and starts removing the golden sacks off the kid's heads. The boy's faces scrunch and turn away one after the other as they're hit by the bright light, hissing against the rubber balls stuffing their mouths.
Then, as they blink and their eyes slowly re-focus, they become increasingly horrified as they realize the gravity of their situation, standing naked unable to move with four scary-looking adults in a semicircle in front of them. Of particular concern to the boys is the thin old woman in the center with long white hair and pink highlights, her face as expressionless and dehumanizing as that of her masked accomplices. The boys begin to struggle and grumble once again.
The Boss smirks, walks to the folding table nearby, and grabs a sealed sandwich and bottle of water. She returns and hovers the sparkling container and square of bread in front of the boy's faces, harvesting their attention.
"Make no mistake, your ordeal is just getting started…" she starts to say in a controlled, dominant voice, silencing the boy's muffles "Not just because we're still many hours away from our destination, but because you need to be… eased into the right state of mind before we arrive at our farm." she starts to unwrap her sandwich "The other reason we stopped in the middle of nowhere is that we're finally far away enough from shore that we can remove your Faraday cages without worrying about any remaining devices in your skulls sending a signal." she shrugs "Not to mention that if we don't hydrate and feed you soon, you'll probably dither and die under this heat. And that's a lot faster, and cheaper, if we untie you first. Those feeding tubes are expensive. Particularly the smaller ones…"
She lets her words linger in the air as she takes a bite off her sandwich, continues talking with her mouth full.
"Now… before your small, little drone brains start to think too much about what you'll do the second after we untie you, you should know that I'm NOT worried about the dangers from you roaming free around my boat, waving your little dicks around or pressing your dirty little asses on surfaces. I have three baby girls back home, so I know how to deal with some shit-stains." she shrugs, "I'm also NOT worried about the possibility of you conspiring or teaming up to try and overpower me or my associates. They have plenty of experience dealing with rowdy children and will make sure you behave at all times."