Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  Location: A backroom in the Kalakula Tavern…Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1900 Hours.

  Makula Pilikoa puffed on a cigar as he listened to the wiry Hokupi man, who was sitting in a folding chair on the other side of the desk. Makula normally liked to keep the meetings he held in the office brief, thus the uncomfortable folding chairs he made his guests sit in as they spoke with him. However, on this fine evening, Makula was very interested in what his young guest had to say.

  Kenny Matsumoto waved his hands as he wrapped up his presentation by saying, “The security system should be no problem…we could be in and out in a matter of minutes. All we need is a truck…and a place to drive it to once we steal the merchandise from the storage facility.”

  Makula adjusted his ponytail and smiled as he said, “Ya know I’ve always liked you, Kenny…you do good work. Your father was a close friend of mine. May the gods rest his soul…so anything that I can do to put some cash in your pocket is a good thing…just as long as it puts even more cash in mine.”

  Kenny became more animated and started bouncing in the folding chair as he said, “This will be a great heist…the cash is untraceable…you could be laundering it within hours and…all the electronic devices will sell like hotcakes on the black market. Since the government raised the rates, there are a lot of people who wish to decode their mainline channels so they can steal cable and get free internet.”

  Makula smiled as he leaned back in his large, leather chair said, “I know…lots of people want to watch the Jalapo show without paying for it…lots of people want to be able to speak with their fellow revolutionaries without getting caught. I can see the market will be good for your services.”

  Kenny smiled weakly as he said, “well…I am not about to brag but…”

  Makula grinned as he said, “Go ahead and brag, Kenny…you are the best damn computer systems hacker I have ever seen. I could use your services again, now that I need to diversify my income. It seems that my Cutz production has slowed down due to a kink in my supply of Makani plants from the Sacred House Reservation. I need smart guys like you, Kenny…guys I can trust.”

  Kenny swallowed his fear as he realized he was about to commit to something that there was no backing out of.

  Makula became noticeably angry as he said, “It seems there are certain, associates of mine…who are out to cause me harm and I can’t tell the honest people from the dishonest people anymore. My gang has become a bit hard to control since so many of them would rather spend their time killing rival gang members out of the need to satisfy their racist and egotistical urges. And I am afraid this, lack of control I am experiencing, is leading some members of my gang to the conclusion that they should challenge my leadership.”

  Kenny felt a lump in his throat and swallowed it before his face began to betray the fact that he was scared by this conversation.

  Makula became serious as he said, “Here’s the bottom line…I need you to pull of this heist for me, Kenny. And once I have the cash to flash…I’m gonna start paying some people to talk…and then after that…I am going to start paying some honest and loyal people to kill some dishonest and disloyal people for me. I have a problem and you have a problem…let’s see if we can solve both our problems together.”

  “Yes sir…” Kenny said as he realized a chill was going up his spine. There was no going back now; once you were a member of Makula’s family, death was the only way out. And now, with the possibility that he would be getting himself into a gang, which was experiencing inner turmoil and power struggles, Kenny began thinking about himself more than he usually did.

  “Holy shit…what am I getting myself into?”

  Location: The High Senate Office Chamber…HanaPaloiFederalBuilding.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1900 Hours.

  High Senator Brawnsworth did not look up from his ReadyFiles as the footsteps on the wooden floor began to sound more and more timid as they got closer and closer.

  “Sir, may I speak with you for a moment?” The squeaky voice said with forced submission.

  Brawnsworth did not look at the skinny, Bontune man, who had just walked into the office, as he said, “might I ask what you need, High Senator Glik?”

  Glik’s voice was timid, “I’ve been going over the last bill your committee drafted…”

  “And?”

  “Well sir, it appears to be more of the same as the last revision.”

  “And…your point is?”

  “Sir…High Senator Semnor and myself have constituents and other interested parties, who keep asking us why we are allowing for more deficit spending that props up the bank accounts of corporations that are laying off workers and not extending jobless benefits for those people who they are laying off.”

  Brawnsworth sighed as he said, “It is a simple plan…we need to invest in companies that show hiring potential. Deficit spending pays for itself once those companies start turning a profit,” Brawnsworth said confidently. “Government spending is investment…just like the flap of a butterfly’s wing can cause a hurricane…our actions will prime the future money pump of the planet.”

  “But, sir…these companies have no real need for this…wouldn’t it be better is the bill gave more tax cuts and less regulation to fledgling Ailanian companies that were not involved in the last investment bubble that burst on us? Last year we wrote a regulatory bill that cost so many small, Ailanian companies billions to comply with…and that didn’t stop the last economic downturn…”

  “Again, High Senator Glik…what is your point, exactly?”

  “Shouldn’t we put some more unemployment benefits into the hands of those people who will spend the money right away? Shouldn’t we give some consideration to lowering taxes and cutting bank loan regulations to these smaller, homegrown Ailanian companies that could hire if we invested in them? Are we going to pass another bill that spends as much government money as possible, raises taxes on the poor and middle class, and gives more entitlements and subsidies to our favored industries? Because it didn’t work last time…”

  “And might I remind you, that if you don’t vote along party lines, Mister Glik…that I might allow the wolves at the Ailanian Attorney General’s Office to come to your door and eat you?”

  “No sir…I shall organize for the votes you require,” Glik said as he felt his brain burning with hate from this experience.

  CHAPTER 10

  Location: The Mele Entertainment Corporate Headquarters…Uptown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0900 Hours.

  “Just look at that city out there, Grant,” Loko Kalaheva said as he adjusted the lapels on his expensive suit. Loko puffed out his chest with pride as he addressed a young, Hokupi man, who was wearing a fancy, red suit. “Just think of all the progress we have made, Grant. One hundred years ago, none of this was here. If it wasn’t for The Alliance, you and I would probably still be living in stone houses with thatched roofs. We’d be breaking our backs on farms, or chasing animals across the plains…or even worse, getting seasick on canoes that we carved from logs, while trying to catch fish for dinner. Isn’t it great how things have changed? I can honestly say I have never even seen a fish. I’ve seen fish fillets on my plate at dinner…but I have never once seen a living fish flopping out of a net into the bottom of a log canoe…and that’s the way things should be.”

  Grant began to grind his teeth as he balled his green hands into fists. He sighed and reminded himself to relax. He said nothing as he stared out at the city with its tall, silver and gray buildings. He relaxed his fists and felt nothing but a sense of internal contempt as he saw the hovercars flying outside the window.

  Loko’s tan, Bontune face beamed with pride as he said, “Of course, had I been born too early, back in the not-so-good-old-days…I’d like to think that I would have been in charge of a company of traveling minstrels
, bringing music to villages and entertaining kings with my talented performers. But thanks to the people of Earth, I am now the owner of the largest entertainment and news company on Ailana. Just think of how far we the people, will be able to go when those good folks from Aurora arrive with their money to invest in our bright, new future…that is why we at Mele Entertainment must do our part to make sure both the Aurorians and the Ailanian people say yes to this new bright new future.”

  Grant felt his guts churning with a strange mixture of disgust and ambition.

  Loko smiled as he said, “It’s a great feeling, to be able to weld the power to shape public opinion. Ya know what the next big thing will be, Grant? Zoppy’s chili! And it will become the next big thing, just because I say it will. This new chain restaurant, which was opened up by an Earth corporation, has found a way to make this chili recipe that mimics Ailanian cuisine. The chili is cheap to make, uses left over beans from The Hydroplantations that The Military didn’t want to buy…and because I will tell the Ailanian people that it tastes great and because I tell them a dollar from every bowl sold goes to charity…I will make Zoppy’s chili the next big thing! Just you wait and see. People will be lining up across the street for a bowl of Zoppy’s chili by the time this next ad campaign has wormed its way into the collective unconscious.”

  Grant just stood there for a moment, realizing how much he hated his life, and hated this man, before politely saying, “You are brilliant, sir.”

  “Well, it looks like you have some work ahead of you, Grant!” Loko Kalaheva said with enthusiasm as his large, Bontune eyes glimmered with pride. “And before you leave today, get me another look at those digital adds for High Senator Klunka, I think we need to make his face look a little less fat, ya know the old boy has put on some pounds. We can’t have him looking too fat and stressed out, the voters might think he’s too old, and he might end up losing the biggest election of the year to that buffoon, Keiki Karatau, because he looks too old and fat to keep doing the job. It is fine for Wram Karamotzain to have white hair, since he’s handsome and in shape…but Klunka…eh, that’s another matter…fat and old are not a good combination.”

  “Yes…sir.”

  “Damn it, Grant…I don’t understand why this Karatau fellow is so popular, but he’s catching up in the polls, and we have to do something to stop that.”

  “Yes sir,” Grant said as he realized how the light had changed slightly and he could see his reflection in the window. Grant could see how thin his face looked and how his lips appeared to be pressed together with anger. He sighed and reminded himself to relax. He smiled, slightly, as he saw how the stunning, red suit hung on his attractive frame and brought out the purple color of his long hair.

  Loko’s wide, Bontune face suddenly looked concerned as he said, “And another thing, Grant, as I understand it, High Senator Ulu Jinkua is back on the warpath again…is this true?”

  “Yes sir,” Grant said flatly. “Do you remember those Scompus bands we fired from our label two months ago? Chief Tipsy has invited them to play with him on his tour. She hates Scompus music…and the activism it breeds. She has been rallying her Moralist supporters to picket stores that sell Scompus albums and T-shirts with anti-Moralist sediments on them.”

  “Ah, good old Auntie Ulu, I love that defender of Moralist values,” Loko said as he smiled through thin lips. “Make sure we send her some flowers or something, Grant…just a little something to let her know that we at Mele Entertainment are concerned with the well-being of our youth, and that we do not endorse music that promotes violence, sex, drugs, individualism, evolution…or revolution…nor we do not support Chief Tipsy and his endeavors to promote Ailanian culture and sovereignty through his music. Our society is changing, Grant. Moralism is taking over the collective political mindset…people on Ailana want good, moral principles, like family values and conformity stemming from like-mindedness and togetherness. We want a civilization made of productive citizens, not these individualistic, hair-brained…hippie ideals.”

  “Yes sir,” Grant straightened his shoulders before he thought to himself, “you are such an asshole, sir.”

  “And by the way, now that the economic revampment talks have begun, we need to start flooding the monitor screens with images that reflect our desperate economic situation here. Every person, in every household on Ailana should be aware of how substandard their lives have become. We need to show them how the Aurorian Economic Revampment Program could alleviate our many problems.”

  Grant’s face remained stoic, “What sort of things do you want?”

  “Well it really doesn’t matter, I believe that the common people are the backbone of this society…I want interviews from those Unionized Government Employees who have been laid off their jobs and are now forced to collect a dwindling supply of welfare money from Earth. I want interviews with middle-class people, who lost their small businesses because of the recession. I want interviews with sad-looking women and children. I want lots of footage of people standing in long lines at the unemployment office. I want to put this question in peoples’ minds, ‘What would you rather be, a citizen of a sovereign planet that is going bust, or a citizen of a colony that will surely experience an economic boom?’”

  “That’s a complicated question,” Grant said as he tried to hide his displeasure and distain.

  “Oh come on, Grant, just remind people about the good times we had when we were a War Machine planet. We made a lot of money during the war…and the reason for that was our unity and our desire to be team players. This time of peace came with the price of poverty and a lack of prosperity…we need people to realize that the desire to go off and chase the Ailanian dream of being independent and prosperous through their own individual efforts cost us dearly. Most people on Ailana are barely surviving! No one has the money to go out and buy a new entertainment system! This is bad for the entertainment business…we rely on people who can afford their cable bill, and we need them to buy all those great products our sponsors want us to advertise. I’m sure once we convince them that being broke is a bummer, we’ll have all the support we need for this economic revampment program the Aurorians are proposing.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, sir,” Grant said as he thought, “Yeah, let’s just let some other assholes run the planet. That’s just what we need is more pseudo-capitalism to make us all paupers again.”

  Loko’s face beamed with joy as he said, “And, I also want you to find out about how much the Ailanian people appreciate Chezui Banka, the Aurorian fellow who is leading those economic revampment talks. Find out if they like the way he looks in the color blue. Find out if they like his hair style, all Aurorians naturally have white hair…and most of the time, it looks good on them since they don’t wrinkle badly until very late in life. Banka is a man, who’s barely into his forties. Ailanians like a combination of youth plus experience. Find out if they like his smile, his laugh, and his character. He’s set up a number of charities on Earth and Aurora…he’s a man of good character, Grant…and I want to know what the people think. We need something to distract the public from the corruption hearings for High Senator’s Glik and Semnor that are coming up, and a handsome man of integrity from another world might be just the key.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “God knows the mess we’ll have on our hands if those two are found guilty.” Loko suddenly looked as if he remembered something important, “Oh and one last thing, Grant…did maintenance install those new firewalls?”

  Grant nodded and said with a blank face, “Yes sir…they finished this morning.”

  “Good!” Loko let out a relaxing sigh, yet scrunched his face up as he said, “With this new campaign for Klunka, we have to make sure that those punks, in that organization known as The Evil, can’t get access to our computers and defile his good name while we’re broadcasting. Those last set of commercials they ruined with their smear tactics were expen
sive. How those criminals managed to put the word LIAR across his face in red letters, I’ll never know…and how many people saw those defiled advertisements, I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Grant smiled and said, “Don’t worry, sir. Those people will not be able to hack their way into our system again.”

  “Thank you, Grant,” Loko sat down as the monitor on his desk began flashing. Grant began walking out of the large office that was made up entirely of glass on the south wall and wooden mosaics on the north wall. Grant walked on rug that contained designs from ancient Ailanian text. As he walked out of the elegant office, his green Hokupi face showed no emotion, even though feelings of disgust and hatred were eating through his guts at the moment. He exited the grand room and walked slowly to his own office, which was much smaller, and decorated in pastel colors. He walked over to his own desk, which was small, but very tidy. Grant sat down, and turned on his transparent monitor. The words displayed across the screen said, ‘Kalaheva Entertainment Unlimited.’ He pressed a few buttons and the monitor flashed the words, ‘You got paid today!’

  Electronic Paystub:

  Gross Biweekly Earnings = 10,000.54 dollars

  Ailanian Government Taxes = -3780.79 dollars

  Social Security = -980.76 dollars

  Net Biweekly Earnings = 5220.45 dollars

  Grant’s face remained relatively expressionless while he contemptuously thought, “I’ll need to pay five thousand dollars for my apartment’s rent with this paycheck.” His eyes then narrowed and his lips curled down in an insolent frown as he realized, “Oh shit, this damned suit will need to be sent to the dry cleaners as well. It seems that only the guys who live in mansions and penthouses get to have any money here on Ailana…rich people, like Loko Kalaheva, have been screwing me for so long that I have no desire for anything else of theirs’ to trickle down my way…”