Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  “Sorry!” One of his Kupano gang members said, “We accidentally added too much ethanol, sir.”

  Makula walked up to the man who was standing next to all the broken glassware and slapped him as hard as he could and shouted, “It is bad enough that the Ailanian CIA and the Kukane gang are trying to shut down my best source of income without you making these costly mistakes! How much Cutz did you ruin this time?”

  The gang member rubbed his face and looked ashamed as he said, “Sir…I am so sorry…but we need more Makani plants…we need higher quality Makani plants to make this chemical process work.”

  Makula grabbed the man’s hair and yelled, “And those plants are coming, but right now I need product to sell! Apparently, the goddamned CIA, and the city cops, busted my nephew’s downtown distribution center, which he was running out of at one of the dance clubs. He got busted because your stupid friends can’t seem to keep from starting bar fights with rival gang members! Now clean up this damned mess and get back to work! We don’t have much time, the CIA, the cops and the Kukane gang keep breathing down our necks and we have got to get this Cutz made and sold before someone else with a gun and a grudge comes after us again!”

  Makula turned around and muttered obscenities under his breath and walked over to a handsome, human male who was wearing a nice pair of slacks and a fancy white shirt. He gave the man an angry look and said, “Well, Mr. Petrilock…do you at least have some better news for me today?”

  Bronson Petrilock smiled as he scraped his breakfast from between his molars with a toothpick and said, “Makula, if you want to be the biggest gangster on Ailana…you need to make the biggest drug sale in the galaxy, and the man I work for just lined up the perfect customer, who would love to buy all your Cutz in one big purchase. Think about it, you won’t have to worry about your street dealers selling small bags here and there and still getting undercut by someone who is flooding the streets with this new low quality Cutz that somehow made its way to the streets. This is one huge business opportunity. You just gotta make sure that your competitors don’t beat you to the punch.”

  Makula’s scarred, brown face sneered as he said in a gruff tone, “Mr. Petrilock, a good businessman, such as yourself, should know that I always beat my competitors…anyone who stands in my way don’t get a punch…they get their fucking heart torn out of their chest.”

  Bronson nervously adjusted this tie as he tried to keep eye contact with the ugly Ailanian. Bronson ran his hand through his thick hair as he said, “well, hopefully…with this plan my boss has concocted…there will be no need for that.”

  Makula’s pitted face became predatory as he slowly approached the skinny human in the fancy suit. His teeth looked sharp and his dark eyes appeared to be without mercy as he said, “son, let me share something with you…I can bet that a human, such as yourself, might not understand Kupano culture very well…a soft handed Earthling, such as yourself, might just assume that just because my ancestors ran around in the jungle, hunting animals with spears…you might come to the conclusion that the Kupano people…are savages.”

  Bronson bit his lower lip and inhaled nervously before he said, “the term…noble savage…comes to mind…but I can assure you that I didn’t come here with any preconceived notions…”

  Makula balled his hands into angry fists as he cocked his head to the side and said, “Mr. Petrilock, let me tell you something about myself…let me tell you what I plan on doing. I am a man with a dream…I am an individual with an idea, which will allow me to create something…out of nothing. Those spindly, red plants over there…nature created them. But, because of my analytical insight…I know how to take the mild narcotic substance, which they produce in order to keep insects from devouring them, into a brand new product. Because of the knowledge I possess, I can turn one ounce of Makani plant into nearly a dozen ounces of Cutz…which is a drug that gives a stronger high, and is much more addictive than the chemical that the little, red plant, which nature produced.”

  “Yes, I must admit…you’re quite a good cook…”

  “A cook?” Makula’s eyes squinted into a ferocious glare, “that asshole over there, who can’t seem to mix the correct chemicals together, he’s a cook! I am a Capitalist! It was my idea and my initial investment that created this enterprise, which provides his stupid ass with a job! It was my idea to convince some dirt eating villagers to sell me their Makani at a reduced rate! It was my idea and my leadership that built these labs, which churn out a quality product that my customers pay hand over fist for! It was my ideas, and hard work, which allowed me to out-perform my competitors, which allowed me produce as much product as I could! It was my idea to hold onto this product until the price went up, because the demand was so much greater than the supply!”

  “Sounds like the business model The Hydroplantations use…”

  “Fuck The Hydroplantations!” Makula yelled as spit flew from his lips. His eyes became darker and narrower as he shouted, “the owners of The Hydroplantations only harvest bail-out money and subsidies from the Ailanian government, which has declared that what I do is criminal activity! I am not a criminal! I am a true Capitalist! I don’t want or need the government involved in my business! And my business provides my family and my people with an income which our government has denied us!”

  “Yes, and you should be commended for your efforts, sir. I mean, how dare the system hold you down…they should pin a metal on your chest…they should give you the key to the city…”

  “I don’t want any of that shit! I want to be the last man standing! I want what every true Capitalist wants, which is to control the money that I made from my ideas and hard work! I want the freedom to conduct my affairs as I see fit! I want the power to control my own destiny…and the power…to control those…who willfully come to the conclusion that without me…the money I allow them to earn will not get into their hands…and their pitiful lives…which I have made possible…will end!”

  “Absolute power…” Bronson thought as he swallowed his fear while he realized that he was looking into the darkened soul of an individual, an innovator, a Capitalist, and a madman.

  Location: The A-84 laser highway…heading south of Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0740 Hours.

  “We believe that we have identified a couple people of interest to us,” The voice said from the other end of Van Dien’s com. “Do you know who they are?”

  Van Dien looked at his monitor and saw video files that contained the faces of three men, two were human and one was a green skinned Ailanian.

  “Yes…I know who they are, and as of right now, they are useful to me. So until I give the order, they are to remain unharmed and unapproached by our people.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Well, I can tell something about the humans. This one…is a man named Bronson Petrilock…and this one… is a man whose name is Herb Swanson. They are a couple of mid-level criminals, who have been in and out of prisons on Earth for many years now.”

  “What are they doing on Ailana? Why did you order us to leave them alone? We told you that we need some people dead if this plan of yours is going to work!”

  Van Dien said, “Who they are, and what they are doing here…is my business…and why I need them alive is on a need to know basis only…but I can assure you that they are a part of my plan. I don’t want them killed because there is quite a body count building up in Polynea, and we can’t get the CIA too excited about all the murders that are taking place since Kalapana is getting interested in finding out why all these people are dying…which of course, is part of the plan as well.”

  The voice seemed annoyed as it said, “Some of us have been realizing that this plan of yours seems to be very reliant on some chance events that may or may not take place depending on the presence or absence of some unseen variables…like the timely death of certain people for example. And we would j
ust like to keep these unseen variables to a minimum.”

  “Yes…that initial observation and your request could be seen as valid,” Van Dien said with a smirk, “but what is your point?”

  “We also believe that some of these events that you need to happen, are not happening the way you told us they would…we believe that there are some unforeseen events now happening on this planet that are not within your control anymore. Someone is up to something, and we are getting anxious to know what it is. People are being killed and we need to provide answers as to why that is happening. There is someone else on this planet doing something for their own purpose, and we want to know who they are and what they are doing here.”

  “And all will be revealed to you just as soon as you allow the necessary events to unfold…now please allow me to do my work, there are some other variables that I have to attend to.”

  The voice said, “The Ailanian CIA seems to have shifted their focus from finding Cutz producers to solving murder mysteries…why is this?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and find out,” Van Dien said in a coy tone.

  “Just a minute,” The voice said with suspicion, “Who is this guy named Wallace? Why is he been taken off our list of targets?”

  “Because he is valuable to me at the moment, do you have a problem with that?”

  “We believe he poses a danger to us…he has done some work for The Evil.”

  “And so what? That alone makes him valuable to me. Now please, I need to get back to work.”

  “And the Jonez Boyz?” The voice said impatiently. “What are they doing here?”

  “Again, you’ll just need to wait and see.”

  The voice on the other end of the com suddenly became irate as it said, “And who is this other party you are working with? We should be allowed to know exactly who we are dealing with here. We are starting to believe that they are responsible for these unforeseen events that are making us so nervous. We have a lot of people being killed for reasons we don’t yet understand and a few others who should have been killed but are still alive and causing trouble for us. For instance, you only caught four of those suspected terrorists…at least two of them are still on the loose, and for all we know there might be more members of The Evil that we have not yet identified. However, we do believe this man, named Wallace, might be a threat to us! What do you plan to do about all these unforeseen situations that just appear to be spiraling out of control?”

  “Again, you just need to have some faith…please just rest assured that I am in complete control here, and nothing happens on this planet unless I allow it to.”

  “But you need to explain what the hell is going on here!”

  “I think I just did,” Van Dien said as he hung up the com and lit a cigarette. “And now it’s time to sit back and wait for some desperate people to fall into the traps I have laid for them…this young man named Wallace can only run and hide for so long, Marco will soon find his luck running out…and Kalapana will soon find himself faced with a terrible decision that will cause his demise. Everything is going as planned…and soon…this world will be mine!”

  Location: The Hana Muli Kona Apartment complex…Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0800 Hours.

  “Assistant Director Bauman,” the low voice said politely. “You may want to have a look at this.”

  Blood was everywhere and the stench of death filled the air.

  “Oh my gods…this guy really bought the farm,” Jack Bauman said out loud as two of his agents, who were dressed in black suits and trench coats, looked on. Their faces were filled with looks of shock and disgust as they looked at the body of a young, human male with blonde hair. The murder victim was lying face down in a pool of blood.

  One of the agents said, “It looks as if a narrow, sharp object…penetrated right below the base of the skull…but I can’t tell if that happened before or after his throat was slit.”

  Jack scrunched his nose up as he felt the stench of death clinging in his nostrils. “Who did this?” He asked while trying not to get sick to his stomach.

  “Sir, I think we have a serial killer on our hands,” Agent Tim Mahoney said as he pressed his thin, human lips together. His black sunglasses hid his horrified eyes. “Someone apparently gets a thrill from killing drug addicts. Just like those folks back at that apartment, by the nightclub, where the gang shooting took place, this guy on the floor seemed to have an appetite for Cutz.”

  Jack shook his head in disgust as he looked at the pale, lifeless body on the floor in front of them. “Then we should just leave this one to the local cops…it’s probably just a drug deal gone bad.”

  Agent Mahoney said, “I suggested that to Assistant Director Winters, and she told me that we need to keep this a priority…those folks at the other apartment all had their throats slit in addition to wounds at the base of their skulls…just like this guy.”

  “Why?” Jack said as he gave his agent a perplexing look.

  The agent said, “Recently there have been a number of murders in Polynea, quite similar to this one. It seems that folks getting slashed and stabbed with sharp blades has been on the rise…and our part of town was just the next to get hit…this has aroused Captain Kalapana’s interest.”

  Jack sighed and stared at his agent’s lips as he realized the words that were coming from them, were exactly what he did not want to hear at this moment. Jack listened with intense disappointment as his agent continued, “All of these suspicious murders involve security cameras that have been tampered with by someone who must know how to manipulate MENIX codes. We’re dealing with someone who isn’t your average run of the mill sicko. Go check all the cameras on this level and in the elevator lift at the end of the hallway. None of them are functioning. Someone hacked into the building’s computrol system and systematically turned them off without being seen, and were then able to sneak down the hallway, without being seen, and enter this apartment, without being seen…and kill that poor son of a bitch…”

  Jack’s eyes fell down onto the body on the floor again as he sighed and said, “without being seen, thus we have no suspects…nobody saw anything.” Jack felt the despair of a leadless case, and then realized it was not just the smell of death that was making him nauseous. “This is such as waste of time. We should be looking for targets for that Special Forces team from Earth to destroy when they get here…who is this dead guy anyway?”

  “His name is John McDonald. He was a resident of Earth. Apparently he’d been residing on Ailana for about six months now…from what we’ve been able to gather so far, he’s been doing some consulting for a security company that works for Mele Entertainment.”

  Jack rolled his eyes as his mind burned with how he wasn’t impressed with how this was going. “So what? Big freaking deal. Exactly why do we need to be here, in this room, with this dead guy who can’t tell us dick about Polynean drug dealers and where they get their merchandise from? Is this another wild goose chase like that Donny Sparks case?”

  “Sir!” An agent in the next room said loudly, “I think I found something.”

  In order to keep blood from getting on their shiny, black shoes, Jack and Agent Mahoney were careful to step around the body that was laying spread eagle on the floor as they made their way to the parlor. Another human agent, in a black trench coat, was opening up a computer file on a monitor that had been set on a table. Jack squinted at it for a few moments.

  “That looks like some sort of letterhead,” Jack said calmly as he quickly read the electronic document. “It’s a memo from Mele Entertainment…I guess they were paying this guy some sort of consulting fee…so what? Big deal.”

  “That’s not the only thing I wanted to show you sir,” The agent said as he pressed a button on the monitor’s keypad. “Apparently, the dead guy had been taking some pictures of some people that we might know.” Moments
later, a photographic image of two young Kupano men flashed up on to the screen.

  “Yes,” Jack said calmly, coldly. “They are members of the Pilikoa crime family. Not only that, they are blood relatives to the big boss, Makula Pilikoa…nephews of his. I’m pretty sure both of them have been busted for possession of contraband, and we think they might be involved in getting Cutz to the Pilikoa’s street dealers…now I’m impressed.”

  “But sir, why would this guy be taking pictures of the Pilikoa’s?” Mahoney said as the other agents stood patiently, waiting for their orders as they tried not to let the smell of death get to them.

  Jack used the palm of his hand to stretch the lower half of his face, a nervous gesture; he really wished he didn’t have to make this decision. “That’s a really good question, Mahoney…and I just can’t stand to let it remain unanswered. Normally, I would leave this to the local cops, but this probably deserves some more attention. Agents Mahoney and Nickels, I want you guys to keep on this one for a while…and I’ll tell Agents Charlie and Hulikoa to keep a closer look out for these two hoodlums that have somehow appeared on Mr. John McDonald’s monitor screen.”

  “Should we inform someone at Mele Entertainment that their consultant is dead?”

  Jack blinked and thought about it for a second. “No, we can’t talk to anyone about this just yet…and we especially can’t let this sort of thing get to a news agency. I’ll inform Captain Kalapana about it.”

  Jack could only concentrate on the frustration he felt with his Captain’s recent decisions and unreasonable demeanor as he turned to walk out of the room. “Great, this is just what we need. Our good Captain has been trying to investigate the president of Mele Entertainment for campaign fraud that involves High Senators Glik and Semnor…now I’m sure he’ll want to pull even more agents off of Operation Shade detail, just so we can chase our tails a little more. This is causing us to get spread too thin and it’s getting ridiculous! We need to concentrate on finding drug dealers and the places they get their Cutz from, and these kinds of distractions are not helping our efforts.”