Meeting the brothers

“He really is quite mad,” Brenan said of Michaels as he met up with Davy on the street outside his office, “but he’s my new gun officer.”

After the two men had exited the tavern, Brenan had brought Michaels to his schooner and left him there so that he could get acquainted with the ship’s layout and begin to make more detailed plans of his proposed improvements.

“Good,” Davy nodded, “I’ve got the two brothers working down at one of my warehouses. Its hard work and it doesn’t pay well, but it keeps them occupied while they look around for a captain who’ll hire them.”

“But they’re not so valuable to them that you can’t afford losing them?” Brenan formed his mouth into an ironic smirk.

“I think I preferred it when you were a grim, humourless bastard,” Davy replied, “but they’ll be showing up at your ship in a little while. Let’s just hope that your new gun officer hasn’t blown it up before then.”

Returning to his schooner, Brenan remained up on deck and listened to the sounds of Michaels working down below, ever so often checking in with the man to see what he was up to. The confused replies that he received seldom served to make him any wiser, but Brenan at least thought that he had understand it as such that Michaels was working on his plans for the more easily manoeuvrable gun carriages.

“Ahoy the ship,” a voice suddenly called from over the portside railing, “permission to come aboard.”

Stepping up to the gunwale, Brenan took a good look at the two men standing on the dock, and noted that they were both dressed as typical sailors with loose-fitting shirts and canvas trousers, but that they were still wearing sturdy boots and knit caps despite the warm weather. He also noticed that he couldn’t see their eyes, on account of the tinted glasses that both of the similarly built brothers were wearing.

“Permission granted, come aboard boys,” Brenan replied, and soon got to see how the two men acted like proper sailors by ignoring the gangway and instead heaving themselves up over the gunwale and swinging their feet down onto the deck, the two of them carrying out the manoeuvre almost simultaneously and performing it with such ease and skill that it Brenan with little doubt that they had done it a hundred times before.

“I’m Brenan Kilgore, captain of this ship,” Brenan introduced himself, “and you must be the boys that Davy would send my way.”

“That we are,” the right one of the brothers said, and it sounded from his voice as though he had been that called out the challenge to come aboard, “Davy told us that you wouldn’t mind two mutts like us. I’m Kyle Jones, and this is my brother Tyler.”

Brenan turned his gaze towards Tyler as the young man nodded his head at him as a greeting, and he found himself wondering if the boy was mute or just nervous.
Still, he took his hand when Brenan offered it as he welcomed the two men aboard his ship by shaking their hands.

“And how much experience have you got?” Brenan wondered once the greetings were over and done with.

“We were raised on the coast Captain, and spent two years aboard the Dorian,” Kyle replied, “before the bastards went and sunk on us while we were ashore.”

“Yeah, there’s lots of that going around,” Brenan said, but offered them no explanation, “and you’re Lantians. Can you breathe underwater?”

“No Captain, but we got good eyes for seeing under it,” Kyle’s words caused the two brothers to share a glance before removing their glasses to show Brenan their blank eyes, “We can still see on land pretty good without these, as long as we don’t have to stare into the sun, I guess.”

“A… and w-we can swim pretty fast thanks to o-o-our feet,” Tyler stammered out.

“Webbed feet?” Brenan asked, “Don’t they usually come with webbed hands as well?”

“No Captain, we got our mom’s hands,” Kyle grinned, though Brenan doubted that Mother Jones’ hands were quite as calloused as those of her sons.

“So Captain, think you could up with us?” Kyle asked, seemingly put at ease by Brenan’s friendly but inquisitive disposition.

“Wait one second,” Brenan ordered the two men and then moved over so that he came within view of the deck below, “Michaels!”

“Yes Captain?” Michaels asked as he stepped out into the open.

“What’s your view on Lantians? I’ve got two of them up here looking for work.” Brenan asked his gun officer.

“Have they got webbed hands? I can’t work with people with webbed hands; they just get in the way.”

“No.”

“Well, then I’d be glad to have them aboard! Actually, one of my ideas requires a strong swimmer… See, the plan is to create an impregnated charge and then attach it directly to the hull of your target, beneath the waterline, I have it all drawn out here…”

“Michaels,” Brenan interrupted Michaels as he began to search for his notebook, “we’ll discuss it later.”

“Yes Captain!” Michaels gave Brenan a salute, although he hadn’t asked for him to do any such thing, and then disappeared back in under the weather deck.

“Good news lads,” Brenan addressed Kyle and Tyler, “the rest of the crew accepts you.”