Children of Zero

by Andrew Calhoun

  There were a few other buildings clinging to the hills behind the town. Only one was of any real stature. That was the Banana. Its full name was the Grand Qomari Sollian Banana Estate, which was rather a mouthful, though it did reflect the lofty air that the establishment attempted to exude. It was one of the only buildings in the cove to not be built out of wood. Considerable time and money had been invested to put up a three-story structure that if Kettle hadn’t known any better he would have claimed to be European colonial. The builders had used local materials, coral and volcanic rock mostly, and the end result was quite stunning. It even had balconies coming off the top-floor windows with ornately carved pillars.

  The Banana must have cost a lot to build, but Kettle was certain that the original construction costs had long-ago been mitigated by the establishment’s profits. If local testimonies were to be believed, the Grand Qomari Sollian Banana Estate was the best brothel in the entire Sollian. With its stable of high-end rent-boys, it was tailored mostly to women, but it also had a generous supply of girls for men with coin to spend. It also had a robust reputation for catering to a wide range of fetishes, some of which Kettle could understand, others that defied reason.

  Looking around at the crescent-shaped cove while he sat and nursed his ale, his thoughts wandered to his father, Simon. Kettle was all but certain that Myffa’s Cove was situated in the half sunken crater of a volcano that had blown its top off eons ago. As a volcanologist, Simon would really dig this place, metaphorically and literally. Kettle pictured him ambling through the rocky scree along the slopes with his shovel looking for tephra samples, all the while talking about stratigraphic analyses, caldera formations and strike-slip faults. Maybe he’d make comparisons to Mount St. Helens of the ever-so-fun-to-pronounce Eyjafjallajökull.

  Kettle mumbled the mouthful of letters out loud, trying to get it right. “Eyjafjallajökull, Eyjafjallajökull, Eyjafjallajökull.”

  “What’s that?”

  He nearly dropped his ale in surprise. Snapping his head around, he saw Haley walking toward him on the balcony. Her breathing was a bit labored, meaning she had probably just finished walking up the path from the town.

  “Ah, it’s a volcano in Iceland.”

  “Why are you saying it?”

  “My father was . . . is . . . I was just remembering something about him.”

  Haley had a quizzical expression plastered on her face. “It sounded like you were chanting something.”

  “And what brings you up here on this fine day?” he said, hoping to de-rail her line of questioning.

  She curled the corner of her mouth into a mirthless smile. “I thought we should talk,” she replied, evidently willing to let him off the hook. “Mind if I have a seat?”

  “Not at all.”

  Kettle watched as she tested a few weak-looking chairs trying to find the most stable of the bunch. She eventually dragged one toward the railing and assumed the same position as him, legs up on the lower railing, eyes cast out to sea.

  The two of them hadn’t actually said more than a few words to each other since the battle for the Triumph. Part of their silence on the week-long voyage up to Myffa’s Cove could be explained by the fact that a good portion of the Epoch’s crew had transferred over to the Triumph to make sure the captured ship remained in tow. Those remaining on the Epoch, including the two of them, were hard pressed to keep up with the work that needed doing. Yet even after landing in the cove, Kettle found himself avoiding her, and he noticed that she was doing the same.

  Whatever it was that kept them apart, he was certain it wasn’t animosity. As far as he could tell, it was more like plain old-fashioned confusion. They both just needed time to digest everything that had happened during the battle and since. And a lot had happened.

  Tyler, the Navy lieutenant from St. Louis, had died in the battle, shot through the neck. Kettle and Haley had found five different stab wounds in his chest and mid-section. Haley had declared it a miracle that he had managed to stay standing in the fight as long as he did before the shot had struck him.

  Curtis and Nathan died the next day from something called Qomari Tears. Kettle saw those bodies go overboard as well. Their faces had black patches across the cheeks, jaw and neck, and their shirts were covered in blood and vomit. In the end, Lofi had put a knife through each of their hearts to put them out of their misery.

  On the last three days of the voyage to Myffa’s Cove, Dallas and Soup got sick. They started coughing, and Soup even had a little blood in the spittle that came out. Lofi feared the worst, but to everyone’s surprise, they got better. Whether or not it had been an attack of Qomari Tears was still being debated, but whatever it was, they had overcome.

  Kettle and Haley hadn’t even developed a sniffle.

  Kettle was extremely conflicted about the deaths, and he suspected Haley felt the same. On the one hand, he didn’t feel nearly as terrible as he thought he should have given the things he had seen and the companions he had lost. On the other hand, he was mentally berating himself for not feeling decimated by it all.

  Kettle had come to accept that he and Haley were undergoing changes that were becoming more and more apparent. To begin with, he felt fantastic, both physically and mentally. The former was difficult to explain, and the latter was even more difficult to explain.

  The skin around the stump of his missing finger had healed completely. Only the faintest of scars remained, a thin line traced across an otherwise smooth nub. Lofi said she had never seen anything of the kind. Moreover, he felt stronger than usual, as if he could run faster and jump higher. He was more coordinated than before, and it wasn’t due to Brenna’s brief but intensive training regime in the days leading up to the battle. Haley, too. He had originally thought of her as a frail Asian girl. Not anymore.

  Haley’s body had changed. The extra pudginess around her midsection had all but disappeared, just like the flabbiness in her arms. She was leaner, more toned, tighter. It was impossible not to notice the definition in her legs. Even her face seemed more streamlined. She lacked the height and sinister speed that Saeliko possessed, but she didn’t look nearly as out of place as she had originally.

  “I want to apologize,” Haley said, speaking in Korean rather than Maelian or English. They had almost entirely switched to Maelian so as to better fit in with the crew, although the presence of Dallas and Soup necessitated the use of English from time to time. Between Merrick and Haley, on the other hand, the switch to Korean signified that the conversation was for them alone.

  “What for?”

  “For avoiding you,” she told him. At the same time, she took her eyes away from the sea and looked directly at him.

  “Ah, that.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about everything that’s gone on, and I’m having trouble figuring out how to feel about it all,” she admitted. “My old self – I mean the person I was before the plane crash – would have been horrified at all this. I should be curled up in a ball crying my eyes out right now. Instead I’m up here with you thinking that this is one hell of a great view.”

  “You’re enjoying this, too,” Kettle ventured.

  “Yep.” There was a little blush forming in her cheeks. She became self-conscious and looked back out over the bluff again. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

  “I don’t think so.” He couldn’t think of what else to say.

  “I need to thank you, too,” she said suddenly.

  “Thank me?”

  “I think you saved my life back on the Triumph. That woman would have shot me if you hadn’t thrown yourself at her like you did.”

  “That bullet hit Tyler, didn’t it?” It felt weird saying it. He hadn’t really admitted to himself that his heroics had gotten Tyler killed.

  “You absolutely shouldn’t feel bad about that. You were trying to save my life. And Tyler was pretty badly wounded before he got shot. He would have died regardless.”

  “That’s the weird thing,” Ke
ttle stated. “I don’t feel bad about it. Not at all. Well, maybe a tiny little bit. I’m obviously not happy that he died. But even if I try to force myself to feel guilty and remorseful, it just doesn’t work.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Haley said, putting a hand on his arm. Kettle felt a little excitement at her touch. “I feel like we should be mourning for Curtis and Nathan, but my brain keeps getting preoccupied with being here and experiencing . . . well . . . all of this. Do you know yesterday I ate a snake?” Her eyes sparkled. She looked like a kid talking about a magic trick.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. This woman down by the shore showed me how to catch them and cook them. We toasted together with little cups of snake blood, and then we chowed down on the meat. It was awesome!”

  “That’s hiss-terical,” Kettle said, switching to English.

  “Oh, man, now I know you’re losing your mind. That was terrible.”

  “Oops. Did I make an asp of myself?”

  Haley laughed and clapped her hands together. “Shut up.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you having a good time, Haley.”

  “Speaking of which, I heard about your adventure at the Banana.”

  “Shit!” He hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but whatever façade of coolness he had had going was now obliterated. Heat bloomed in his cheeks. He looked over at her expecting that she would start angrily scolding him. She was still smiling though, and her eyes were still sparkling, this time with mischief.

  “Brenna told me you had some fun with a nice young Qomari girl.”

  Had some fun was an understatement. “Umm, yeah.”

  On their second day in Myffa’s Cove, Brenna and Jren had dragged him up to the Banana. Well, dragged was an exaggeration. He had been pretty willing to see what all the hubbub was about, and in all honesty, he had just been plain old-fashioned horny. Money hadn’t been an issue either. The Triumph had a hold full of quickspice (which Kettle had discovered to his surprise was just cinnamon) and silver. Saeliko had declared Kettle and the other plane crash survivors to be full crew members, so he was entitled to a fair share of the loot.

  The Banana’s manager – Kettle wasn’t sure what else to call him – had inquired into his needs. “A girl” was the only thing he had been able to get out. That had been enough. He was ushered into a side room with tapestries hanging off the walls and candles placed on pedestals of varying height. A bell was rung, and soon after, a door opened. Eleven women came into the room, lining up with hands on hips and coy smiles on their faces. All eleven wore the same outfit, a black corset-skirt thingy that came down and ended at the upper thighs. The tops of the corsets cupped and pushed up eleven pairs of bare breasts that jiggled as the girls shifted their poses.

  “I’ll take her,” Kettle had said without hesitation, pointing to a girl in the middle. The Banana was a multi-cultural establishment. Some of the girls were Maelian, but there were a few fair-colored girls – probably Lavic – and a couple dark-skinned Kalleshi girls. He guessed one of them was Lannari, her skin a more olive hue and her face more angular and pronounced than the others. The girl he had pointed to, however, was definitely Qomari. Skin the color of carob powder, eyes a sultry dark brown bordering on black. Straight black hair ran over her shoulders and came to a stop above her firm, ample breasts with adorable light brown nipples. Just looking at her had given him a raging hard-on.

  “What was her name?” Haley asked.

  “Oh, umm, Numa. It’s Qomari for amber.”

  “Yes, I can speak Qomari, thank you.”

  “Right, sorry. Well, I’m not sure if that was her real name. Maybe it was just her work name.”

  “I think Brenna was sort of proud of you by the way. She told me you lasted about eight hours with the girl.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ! I guess there’s no such thing as privacy among pirates!” He wasn’t that angry though. He could tell from Haley’s face, and her curiosity, that she wasn’t disappointed or angry at him for running off to the local brothel.

  And those eight hours had been pretty amazing after getting past the first, awkward bit. Numa had taken him up to a second floor room where a bath was waiting, which he guessed was standard practice since the majority of pirates smelled pretty awful most of the time. She had stripped down and got in with him, proceeding to slowly and gently clean him with a little block of pink soap and a cloth, all the while unleashing a very sexy, dimple-enhanced smile.

  She had enticed him back up into a standing position in the bath where she could wash his lower regions. As soon as she knelt in front of him and grabbed his shaft in her delicate fingers, he exploded, some of it hitting her cheek. He had immediately fumbled out an embarrassed apology followed by a lame explanation of how it had been a very, very long time for him and so on and so forth. But she had just giggled and told him not to worry and that they had lots of time.

  Numa barely spoke Maelian, so she had been ecstatic when Kettle broke out his fluent Qomari. She had excitedly demanded to know how he had learned her language, to which he revealed the patch on the back of his neck. Surprisingly, she wasn’t disgusted or freaked out by the otherworldly technology. “I am young, but I know the world is full of mystery,” she had claimed. “Kettle, you are a very nice mystery. I think I like you very much.”

  Part of his brain had warned him that she most likely spoke to all her clients this way. Nevertheless, the remaining portions of his brain were more than willing to indulge in the moment.

  She had pulled him out of the bath and led him to a bed, easing him onto his back. She then straddled him and lifted his hands to grasp her big, beautiful boobs. “I think you’re ready again,” she had told him. Indeed, his soldier was saluting.

  Over the next eight hours, she got him to climax three more times. He hadn’t even thought that possible.

  “I went, too, you know.”

  “What?”

  “I went to the Banana, too,” Haley said. This time it was Haley’s turn to show a little bit of embarrassment. She puffed her cheeks and huffed a few strands of hair that had fallen over her face. “I knew you would probably find out anyway, so I wanted you to hear it from me.”

  “You slept with a rentboy?”

  “Actually . . .” Her gaze lowered down toward her knees and she raised her eyebrows. Then she lifted two fingers up. “Two of them.”

  “At the same time?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Wow!”

  “Do you think I’m horrible?”

  “No! No, no. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a preacher. I’m just a little surprised. That’s all. I didn’t think you would approve of that sort of thing, which is another reason I never told you about Numa.”

  “To be honest, if you had asked me on Diego Garcia how I felt about prostitution, I would have sworn up and down that it was evil and that any guy who used prostitutes was pond scum.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of that way myself.”

  “Okay, there’s something else,” Haley said. She put her hand on his arm again. “I want to ask you something that’s really kind of personal, and you’re probably going to think I’m pretty weird for asking.”

  “Haley, look at us. We’re a couple of exceedingly multi-lingual pirates looking down on a pirate stronghold that’s not on Earth. I don’t think this can get a whole lot weirder.”

  “So I can ask you anything?”

  “Anything.” He meant it.

  “Okay, here goes. How’s your sex drive?”

  He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. “Pardon?”

  “Umm, let me ask it a different way. When I was at the Banana, those guys did some things to me, and it made me feel really good. I mean, the sex was better than just normal sex. Or maybe I wasn’t doing it right before. And when it was finished, I wanted more, so a couple of days after, I went back to the Banana and did the same thing all over again.”

  “Again, wow!”

  “Shut up. What I�
��m trying to say is that you and I seem to be going through a lot of physical changes. And I can see your body changing. Look at you. Your muscle mass is obviously increasing, you look way fitter than you used to, and it’s no secret that your finger healed faster than it should have. Speaking as a scientist – well, ornithologist – those sorts of rapid changes don’t happen normally in nature.”

  “Okay, I see where you’re going with this. You think that whatever changes we’re going through are also having an effect on our sex drive.”

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Well, I did achieve a sort-of personal best with Numa.”

  “There you have it.”

  “So we’re getting faster, stronger, fitter and hornier?”

  “Yep.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Has to be something the pilot did to us. One of the injections.”

  That made as much sense as everything else. He shrugged and nodded. “Sure, I’ll buy that. But same question. Why?”

  “No idea, but I’m sure enjoying it.”

  3.3 KETTLE

  A day later, Kettle found himself back at the Banana, coin in his pocket, ready and more than willing to put Haley’s theory to test. He had been longing to run back to Numa ever since his first encounter, but an annoying sense of guilt had kept him away. Now, knowing that Haley had also partaken of the Banana’s fruits, twice, he felt liberated.

  He practically skipped up the stone steps to the front door, where he was welcomed in by two armed doormen. Fifteen minutes later he was back in the bath with Numa. A couple hours after that, once the deed had been done, twice, he found himself lying contentedly stark naked on a bed with Numa curled up beside him, her head resting on the crux of his shoulder.

  “You’re amazing,” he mumbled to her. What a bonehead thing to say, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit giddy at the moment. Here he was with a beautiful, exotic girl at his side post-coitus.