Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  “This truly is a war…it’s just a different kind of war with different casualties and victories…tax cuts means less tax revenues…which affect people in negative ways…government budget cuts are causing a lot of schools on Ailana to be closed…people who aren’t educated might not be able to invent and innovate…and they become slaves to the welfare system. That guy with the limp was right…the school kids of this world shouldn’t have to suffer because some rich assholes made bad financial decisions out of greed. I understand why he thinks this recession is just a smoke-screen for a Moralist power grab. But am I really a part of the solution by doing this? Or am I just acting…selfish?” Jhett thought as looked at Bloke with concern in his eyes. It was the type of concern that manifested itself as the need for philosophical conversation.

  Jhett tried to sound concerned as he said, “Do you suppose that conversation was rigged?”

  “What do ya mean?”

  “Ya know…that first caller might have gotten paid to say what she said because this station needs to broadcast some propaganda in order to counter what those revolutionaries are putting out on the airwaves and the Ailanian-Wide-Web?”

  “Why in the hell would they do that?”

  “Come on, Bloke, I know you’re capable of higher order thinking, don’t ya ever wonder if what we’re seeing here is a battle of ideas, with the winner being the one who might find a way to censor the ideas of the other? So in that sense, what we might call cyber-warfare may include the subversion of an online community of dissidents? It seems, that at this point in time, governments shouldn’t we worried about strong guys like us with guns…instead, they should be worried about geeks with access to the World Wide Web.”

  Bloke looked over at Jhett with a deep amount of concern in his eyes and said, “We’re gonna get something to eat, right? I’m getting really hungry.”

  Jhett sighed and thought about how much more they could be getting done if it wasn’t for his partner’s appetite. “Yes…we’ll stop at Zoppy’s Drive In. I hear they have some new chili or something.”

  “Chili sounds good right about now,” Bloke said as he leaned back in the passenger seat, nearly tearing it off its mounts.

  Jhett was beginning to feel a bit saddle sore from driving the armored truck all day. He shook his head in an attempt to make himself more alert as he said, “you do realize the food at Zoppy’s is completely manufactured garbage? Ya know that they use leftover beans and grains The Hydroplantations can’t legally sell to The Military? I’ve been reading one of those blogs by that group, The Evil, and they say that The Hydroplantations are essentially a special interest group, subsidized by the government, that is contributing to the demise of…”

  Bloke grunted as he said, “Can it Jhett…I don’t wanna hear your idealistic, hippie speech right now, I just want something to eat. Food is food.”

  Jhett smirked as he said, “Yeah, food is food. Well, we’ve been working up an appetite. I can’t believe how many trips we’ve had to make…those boys out in the woods sure are busy.”

  “At least they’re doing the messy work…I don’t mind this delivery service gig…it’s real easy compared to what we’ve had to do in the past,” Bloke said as he relaxed his shoulders and slouched.

  Jhett bit his lower lip and felt his heart rate speed up as he saw a large cloud of dust from the dirt road ahead. “What the hell?” He said as he squinted to get a better look.

  Jhett’s cyborg eyes allowed him to zoom in closer to the horizon for a better view. He felt his heart rate increase even more as he noticed about a dozen motorcycles racing at them. Jhett gasped when he realized the motorcycles were carrying more than a dozen heavily armed Kupano men.

  Bloke made his telescopic eyes zoom in for a closer view and said, “Are those our boys?”

  Jhett seemed a bit worried as he said, “No, those guys are in the Kukane gang…they’re the guys who want our boys dead…and they got guns!”

  “Oh shit!” Bloke ducked before a laser blast tore through the truck’s windshield and ripped the headrest off his seat. Bloke tried to look surprised as he said, “Damn it Jhett, did we pick the wrong side again?”

  Jhett cranked the truck’s steering wheel as he saw the laser bolts flying at them.

  “Hang on!” Bloke shouted before the explosions drowned out the sounds of everything else around them.

  The two enormous men felt their heads being thrown forward as their truck took to the air.

  “Holy shit!” Jhett shouted as the truck flipped and landed on its broken wheels. “Maybe I was wrong! These guys must be friends of Makula Pilikoa! I heard he’s got some firepower!”

  Bloke reached for his large handgun and blasted the roof off the vehicle as he shouted, “Now I’m pissed!”

  Jhett frowned as realized his own pistol had been fallen out of his holster and was nowhere to be found. He cursed his luck when he saw his large friend take to the air and land on the hood of the damaged truck causing the front axle to break in half.

  “I got the four in front!” Bloke shouted as he blasted off several rounds of flashing laser bolts at their approaching enemies.

  Jhett smiled briefly as he saw explosions with flying body parts and twisted metal. His smile melted back into another serious frown when he saw four other gang members on motorcycles, racing through the smoke, with their guns blazing.

  The laser bolts smashed their way into the truck’s front bumper. Jhett saw a series of explosions that forced Bloke to jump backwards and take cover behind the wrecked vehicle.

  “Oh shit!” Jhett thought as he raised his arm and activated his personal force field.

  The sharp impact made a screeching sound as Jhett realized he had been just in time to deflect the laser blasts that had been aimed at him.

  “Goddamnit!” he shouted as he realized that a few bolts did manage to streak by his shoulder and explode inside the cab. Jhett winced as he felt heat from the flames behind him.

  “Now I’m pissed!” He deactivated his force field and made a fist with his large, left hand. A sixteen centimeter long blade ejected from his wrist. Jhett admired the weapon mounted to his arm before he thrust his fist out of the window and caught one of the Kupano men in the throat just as he was flying by on his motorcycle.

  Jhett took advantage of all the smoke and dust all around him as he jumped out of the cab just in time to slice open another motorcycle rider’s neck. The man bounced on the ground a few times and fell next to the truck’s tire. Jhett retracted the blade back into his arm. He roared as he picked up the limp body and tossed it towards two more men who were racing towards him. The body hit the men squarely in their chests and knocked them off their bikes.

  “Jhett! Get down!” Bloke yelled from behind him.

  Jhett felt the sand grinding into his skin as he hit the ground just in time to avoid getting hit in back by the suppression fire Bloke had just let loose. The blasts strayed into the last few gang members as they fell off their bikes and hit the dirt with bone crushing force. When the dust settled, Jhett walked up to one of the men who was still breathing and grabbed him by the collar.

  “What do you people want?” Jhett hissed, “Who sent you?”

  The dying man gasped for breath and said, “You’ll never guess who sent us…but let’s just say…we know someone your boss once did business with. They told us about the merchandise you brought to this planet…and we said we’d do them this favor for them…if we got to kill some cyborgs.”

  Jhett felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. “What do you know about the merchandise we brought here?”

  “We don’t give a shit about it! We hate your kind! You cyborg freaks should not be allowed to live! You have no idea what waits for you. People like yourself are an abomination…and you dare to come to our world and help our enemies!”

  Jhett raised his fist and ejected
his blade. “I am going to help you now.”

  The man chuckled and spit in his face.

  “Damn you!” Jhett shouted as he sunk the blade into the man’s neck. He looked at Bloke, who seemed to be unphased by what had just happened. Jhett looked serious as he said, “We need to get in touch with Herb and Bronson. We need to tell them to hurry up.”

  Bloke said, “Then you better hope a couple of these motorcycles still work…our truck ain’t getting us out of here and I can’t get lined up with a satellite to use my com.”

  Jhett sneered as he said, “Something tells me that things are going to start getting ugly around here real quick. I’m worried that someone has figured out that we’re trying to help Marco get rid of his competition.”

  “If you ask me, we ain’t got anything to worry about. Marco is did the right thing by hiring us. We still have the technical edge on everybody with Herb and Bronson working their end of the deal. This is just a minor set- back. It’s obvious we’ve got the perfect team to pull off the perfect heist.”

  Jhett gave his partner a serious look and said, “Then how come these assholes knew about it?”

  Bloke smiled as he said, “Don’t worry Jhett…these guys are about to become worm shit. These Ailanian fools ain’t got nothin’ on us…we ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of…whoever sent em’ will probably leave us alone once they find out how easily we killed their errand boys.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jhett said as he started looking for a motorcycle that still worked. “I can think of one person on this planet that does scare me.”

  Bloke said, “and just remember we’re stopping at Zoppy’s…I heard their chili is to die for.”

  Location: The alley between MalamalaHeights and Hululuwa…Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1000 Hours.

  The two Kupano gangsters leaned against the brick wall of the alley sharing drinks from a bottle of illegal liquor. They were young men with mean faces and old attitudes about the harsh lives they lived on the lower level streets of the downtown area.

  Kumami Kailuloa wiped his mouth on his flannel sleeve and handed the bottle to his friend Malamoa and said, “I got a good deal on some Cutz.”

  Malamoa took the bottle gratefully and said, “No shit…is the stuff made by Makula Pilikoa’s family?”

  “No man…it’s some new shit…the Pilikoa’s didn’t make it. It came from someone else…it’s not the same quality as the Pilikoa’s stuff, but it’s good…it gets ya high as hell real quick.”

  Malamoa said, “What? I heard the Pilikoa’s own this side of town now since they muscled out the Kukane gang. Who’s stupid enough to be dealin’ some stuff they didn’t cook up, on their turf?”

  “Some dude named Donny Sparks is what I heard…he’s not big time, so I can get us a good deal…we can smoke half and sell the rest uptown and still make some profit to invest in a future deal.”

  Malamoa said, “Shit, count me in. We just gotta come up with some cash.”

  Kumami nudged his friend and pointed down the alley, “I think I see our first ATM machine.”

  Malamoa looked down the alley and saw a man walking slowly away from them. The man had a black, broad rimed hat and a long, black trench coat.

  Kumami smiled and said, “We need to make a withdrawal…let’s go.”

  Both young men began walking towards the man in the trench coat; they both reached into their jacket pockets and pulled out knives. Moments later, they were in striking distance of their victim.

  Malamoa called out, “Yo cuz! Where you from?”

  The man in black whirled around and Kumami and Malamoa suddenly realized that they were not dealing with someone they could pick on. The man’s face was red and heavily scarred. His eyes were black and lifeless, like a shark’s eyes.

  Malamoa felt the searing sting of fear as he said, “Holy shit, cuz…we don’t want no trouble!”

  The man in black clenched his right fist and a long, silver blade ejected from his wrist.

  The two Kupano men froze as they saw how the blade, attached to the man’s forearm, gleamed in the light.

  With one slashing motion, he made quick work out of the two young men and left them lying in deep pools of their own blood.

  The man in black walked around the bodies for a few seconds, just to make sure they were dead, when suddenly, something towards the end of the alleyway caught the attention of his inferred-thermal scanners.

  One of the trash bins seemed to be generating more heat than the other ones around it.

  The man in black began walking closer to the trash bins to investigate. His blade was ready to stab whoever was inside. His other hand was ready to draw his handgun, just in case the opponent proved to be more formidable than the last two he had just encountered.

  He was just about to open the trash bin’s lid when his cranial com rang. The incoming message was coded as an urgent priority. After he performed a quick sonar and x-ray scan, which revealed whoever was inside the trash bin was not armed and probably did not pose a threat, the man in black relaxed his muscles and allowed his forearm mounted blade to retract into his coat sleeve. He walked about fifty meters down the alleyway before answering his com.

  The voice on the other end was familiar, but did not belong to the man who he normally spoke to about the business he performed. The voice was calm and a bit cheerful as it said, “My man! It’s a lovely day in paradise! We just hacked into a computer and found something that might interest you…money! Yes sir, money that can’t be traced, and a sizeable chunk of it could be yours…if you do something for us.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We got a job for you…a job that will help us advance our plan that we need to keep certain people on this planet from finding out about. We know you are the perfect candidate for this job, and if the price is right…we’ll set you up tight.”

  “Who do I need to kill?”

  “You will help us out immensely if you just ignore that target you have been assigned and simply follow these coordinates to this address, and wait for further instructions.”

  The man in black mentally flipped a switch in his computerized brain and allowed a stream of data to download into his automated consciousness. After a quick examination of the money he would be able to walk away with, for doing what appeared to be a simple job, he smiled as he read another message that was making its way across the monitor which was installed inside his left eyeball.

  Target currently located in trash bin is no longer a priority. Wait for further instructions.

  As the man in black made his way into the dark alley and made a right hand turn, the lid on the trash opened just enough so that the person inside could peek out and notice that no one was around anymore.

  “Oh thank the gods!” Wallace thought nervously as he jumped out of the trash bin and began to run in the other direction. “I need to find a place to hide! I need to find someone I can trust and tell them what I just found out! I need to be more careful! I need to consider myself lucky…that might not happen next time! What happened? I wonder why that guy just let me go.”

  Location: Cafe’ Anamoomoo…Hana Paloi Federal Building…Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1300 Hours.

  Jack’s father didn’t smile as he wiped his lips with a napkin and said, “Thank you for lunch, son…I won’t keep you since I understand that you will certainly be busy cleaning up that mess Kalapana has made for you.”

  Jack rolled his eyes; he knew where this was going. “Father, sometimes clandestine investigations do not always go as planned. There are a lot of variables…”

  “Oh don’t give me that, I served in intelligence when I was in the Allied Navy, and certainly never allowed incompetence such as that to happen…we couldn’t afford to make such mistakes…”

  Jack held up hi
s hand and interrupted him, “Father, locating Terraxakors on alien planets is much different than finding civilian insurgents and criminals…on Ailana we have democracy, we have constitutional rights and other sorts of regulations to take into consideration.”

  “Son, just let me be honest with you for a minute…I’m getting concerned, your boss is walking on thin ice, and I don’t want him taking you down with him when his failures and lack of judgment catch up with him.”

  Jack drummed his fingers on the table as he realized how nervous he was for his own well-being, but kept his composure as he said, “Father…I have complete faith in what Captain Kalapana is doing.”

  His father said, “I may be an old fashioned, retired Admiral…and I might be a bit stuck in my ways…but a great number of the officers I served with, and a great many more who served under me, have always wondered why Kalapana was appointed to the commanding position within the Ailanian CIA. I myself would have never wanted that job, but I know of many highly qualified men who were passed up for it. I assume he was well trained and groomed at the Academy for the job, but it almost seemed as if he came out of nowhere, no combat experience, no Military command experience…and his tactics and methods, seem so unconventional.”

  Jack tried to act humble as he said, “Well, we are a combination of undercover spying and law enforcement, so Military experience is really not a must…and you must admit father, crime on has gone down on Ailana since he took over the CIA.”

  His father said, “yet these criminal syndicates still seem to have a grip here…it seems that when you eliminate one, another just simply takes its place. And last week, another huge shipment of Ailanian Cutz was found on Earth. Despite your best efforts, my son, those drug lords still seems to have the upper hand and the Aurorians will not invest in our economy if this problem is not solved and solved soon. Drugs create a vicious cycle of abuse and violence that has to stop and you’re boss doesn’t really seem to be helping the matter much by endorsing that liberal decree that allows for Immorals to be released from The Penitentiary and back onto the streets. And as I understand it, your boss even has some of these Immorals working for him now.”