A white number on the blue nautical map changes from 0.1 to 0.0. The Boss cuts the throttle.
The scream of the diesel engine falters and languishes in a sequence of diminishing coughs until it stops entirely, leaving only the sounds of the ocean, the wood and metal creaks of the fishing boat swaying, and the intermittent laughs and conversation from the three masked women still tormenting the tied Indian boy.
The Boss pockets the phone and opens the cabin's door which bounces against something soft at the end of its motion. She blinks and peeks around it, finding the three other nude boys huddled together outside her cabin, hiding from the ministrations of the women on the other end of the vessel.
"S-sorry..." says the kid against which the door bounced rubbing his shoulder.
The Boss sniffs and walks away without saying a word. The three boys murmur between them, encouraging one of them to speak before she leaves.
"When we arrive, will we be allowed to get dressed?" he finally shouts in a heavy English accent.
The Boss stops, ponders for a second whether to answer him or not, and turns to face the kids.
"No. Children's clothes are expensive and raise too many eyebrows when bought in bulk. Not to mention most companies weave tracking fibers on them by default." she turns to leave again but feels compelled to add "In fact, there are a number of advantages from keeping you exposed and vulnerable like this at all times. Contraband is harder to hide, keeping hygiene is easier, fertility is improved, and barb wire more effective to keep you out of forbidden areas." she grins "Get used to it."
She turns to leave once more when another one of the boys speaks up.
"Why did we stop again? There's nothing out here! Where's this 'Farm' you're taking us?"
The Boss turns, a Machiavellian smile across her face "It's a surprise! You boys will love it. Trust me."
"Why are you doing this?" says the last boy in a squeaky voice.
The Boss's smile vanishes. She stands straight and glances up at the clear blue sky weighing an answer. She shrugs.
"Because I can... Because I have a huge payroll to pay... And because the world needs my services." her eyes twinkle "Haven't you heard the news? Haven't you seen those public service announcements? Like the one that says," she coughs, imitates a man's voice "Are you doing everything you can to stop the Population Collapse?" she smirks, returns to her normal voice "Well, here I am! Doing my part..."
"But The Stork gives out babies for free!" another boy dares to yell.
The thin old woman snorts "And look where that lead you! Will The Stork come rescue you now?" she says pronouncing the word 'Stork' with disdain "Nothing is free in this world kiddos. 'Free' is just the word governments use to signal what things will be forbidden to the groups of people they don't like." she turns to leave for good, yells over her shoulder "And thankfully for me, there's A LOT of people governments don't like!"
The kids don't attempt another question, the Boss heads towards the three masked women on the opposite side of the deck who surround the exhausted nude boy hanging from his wrists under the gantry, albeit by this point he's more of a piece of furniture in the backdrop of their conversation. They tickle his nipples or stroke his penis absentmindedly while they laugh and chit-chat about this or that.
The women notice the Boss approaching and immediately shut up and stand straight, ready for her next command.
"We're late to the rallying point, we'll have to wait until sunset..." the Boss says extracting the phone from her pocket and starting to type "Had this happened during last expedition right before my daughter's birthday I would've shot all of you by now…"
The three women stay quiet, too stunned to react. The old woman finishes typing a message and sighs. She motions behind her at the three kids huddled near the cabin.
"In the meantime, make yourselves useful and go check which of the drones have reached spermarche. Just try to be more careful handling their fluids than with this one you've been playing with all day. Remember how it's unlikely these drones are fully vaccinated given the shithole country they came from."
The women glance at each other, confused. But as it becomes clear the Boss is serious they allow themselves to cheer up. They thank their employer and head with growing enthusiasm towards the scared tweens on the other side of the boat who squirm and plead as they're lifted over their shoulders and taken below deck.
"Come on kids! Time to make A MAN out of you!" says one of the women slapping the butt of the boy on her shoulder. Her laughter and the boy's high-pitched voice diminish to a murmur as they enter the boat's interior, leaving the sea silent once again.
The Boss continues typing non-stop on the phone while the tall Indian boy hangs silent under the gantry. His wrists tied with the plastic zip-ties are reddened and his legs separated by the PVC pipe are bent and buckled, barely able to support his weight anymore. His body drips sweat and his hairless penis twitches half-erect as his body swings following the rocking motions of the boat.
She sighs.
"If you're wondering, molesting the drones is a coping mechanism for most of the crew. Otherwise, they may start to feel sorry for them." she sniffs "I know it's hard to believe it given the circumstance, but there's no malice in their hearts." she shrugs "Or so they tell themselves..."
The tied boy doesn't answer. His head hanging limp and a thin rope of saliva extending from under the rubber ball in his mouth.
The Boss sighs again and pockets the phone. She releases his mouth gag and extracts a switchblade from one of her pockets. She waves the blade in front of his unfocused eyes.
"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to lie to my associates and tell them that the reason I released you was because you cried, pleaded, and promised over the grave of the plastic womb that birthed you that you would fully cooperate from now on." she smiles "Make no mistake thou, you WILL be executed if you don't fulfill your sperm quotas. But at least this way your brain will be turned into marmalade at the time of your choosing instead of mine."
She cuts the plastic zip-ties holding his wrists. The boy falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
"You're welcome," she murmurs folding the blade, then walks to the folding table nearby and grabs a packaged sandwich and water bottle which she throws near the seemingly unconscious boy.
She grabs the phone to continue typing. After about a minute standing in place near the immobile boy, she chuckles.
"Suit yourself. Just remember hunger strikes are hard to sustain once you get a feeding tube shoved down your throat. I learned THAT the hard way…"
She shakes her head and turns on her heels to walk away.
"Your plan..." murmurs the boy in a raspy, hollowed voice "The whole thing of threatening to kill us… It's all bullshit... And you KNOW it…"
The Boss stops. She looks back at the small brown figure on the floor and smirks. A knowing, tired smirk. The smirk of someone who can't quite believe the way history seems to repeat itself.
She heads back to the boat's cabin and closes the door behind her.
***