Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  The handsome singer was trying his best to look serious as he said, “But, the way Chief Tipsy inspires people with these ideas he has…”

  Grant’s level of disgust went up as he saw how Loko was quick to interrupt Jordan with words of entertainment wisdom, “and that is why he is considered by the Moralists, who buy your albums, to be so…immoral. Chief Tipsy is not a musician. He’s just an activist with a selfish agenda. Jordan, real musicians, like yourself, don’t cause people to think, or make up their own minds because the satisfaction is simple and instantaneous.”

  “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” Grant thought as he swallowed the urge to vomit.

  Loko smiled as he took a puff off his cigar and said, “Chief Tipsy is proof of the inferiority of the individual, and how everything that is worthy of praise comes from a team effort. When we all agree that a song is a hit…it resonates throughout time and space.”

  Grant felt his stomach turning as Jordan finally stopped playing with hair and said, “But I want him to teach me how to write songs…my songs. I’ve been performing your songs. I think people want to know what I am capable of writing. I think they want to hear what I have to say.”

  Loko said, “But Jordan, your songs might not bring you success, it’s the melodies of our musical collective that make this world really want to boogie. Our song writing process works so well because two or three people write the words, four or five people come up with the harmony, six or seven work on the melody…and later, a committee of people decides the end result…that way, it pleases everyone. The selfish ideals of individuals just poison that successful mix.”

  Grant’s mind burned with hatred, along with the details of his own plan, as he thought, “I’ve got you where I want you…I’ve got you all figured out. I know what you’ve done…I know what you’re doing…and I know why you’re doing it…and to see you siting there, with that smug look on your face, just makes me sick,” Grant looked away because he could not hide his angry eyes. “Soon, this evil will be no more…and I can’t wait much longer for it to just go away.”

  “I’m proud of what we have been able to accomplish,” Loko said as he laughed while Jordan smiled in agreement.

  Grant looked at the chrono on the wall. It was almost time for the building’s day shift security guards to go home. Grant felt an evil grin working its way across his face as he remembered last Tuesday, when Loko had so nervously asked him, “Grant, have you heard from our…consultants…have you heard from them lately?”

  Grant felt the hot air of hatred burning in his lungs as he remembered how he had replied, “Yes, sir…they reported in this morning. Everything is just fine…they said there is nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s such a relief to hear, Grant…I’m so glad to have you with me during this tumultuous time…I am so glad to have you on my side…you’re such a good man…”

  “I am so glad to hear you say that…” Grant smirked as he thought about how he had diverted the scheduling to make sure that the guards on the nightshift didn’t have to come to work. “Soon, this evil will be no more…”

  Location: The A-13 laser highway.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1900 Hours.

  Van Dien was watching two different television programs on his monitor at once. The media window on the left hand side featured Jalapo, Ailana’s most popular talk show host. The fat, unattractive television personality was giving another one of his larger than life rants, “Can anyone explain to me why the seats on Ailana’s public hoverbuses are so small? Most Ailanian people have asses that are much wider than these seats. Can someone please invent a comfortable bus seat for crying out loud?! All day long I get calls from people who complain how sore their asses are after riding on the bus!”

  The media window on the right seemed a little more serious.

  INTERCEPTED COMMUNICATION - 010-521

  It appears as if someone has gotten real good at espionage. I just found out that even though a warrant has not been served, the Ailanian CIA is going to arrest Loko Kalaheva.

  This is not good news. We need him dead.

  That can still be accomplished, it’s simply going to cost you a little more.

  “Interesting…apparently this plan is more complex than I thought. Whoever is behind it, has decided to go through with it, behind my back, despite my initial warnings…and heads will roll when I find them,” Van Dien thought as he read the words on the monitor.

  He took a moment to contemplate what he was going to do next. The thoughts of what this meant for his own plan swirled in his head like a black hole. His teeth began to grind as he realized how unacceptable this turn of events had become.

  He made a fist and slammed it onto his armrest as he said, “Driver, take me back to Polynea. It appears that I have to check up on the precedence, principles and priorities of someone, who I made a certain deal with, some time ago.”

  Van Dien lit a cigarette, and as he exhaled, the limousine began picking up speed. He changed the channel, and punched a few commands on the remote control. The monitor flashed a blue light as it processed the commands, and brought up the requested files. Within a matter of seconds, an image of Moke Kalapana was on the screen and words began to scroll over the picture.

  1. Has dutifully held up the Ailanian Constitution. Has been

  2. reported as being fair and honest. People generally like him.

  3. Has been known to get angry with people, has been perceived as

  4. being arrogant because he has his own way of doing things.

  5. Crime has gone down considerably since Moke Kalapana has begun working for the Ailanian people.

  “Point number four…Kalapana had prior knowledge of a terrorist organization that calls itself…The Evil,” Van Dien smiled as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He flicked ashes onto the floor as he thought, “and despite what you might think…The Evil are still around and dreaming up a terrorist act that will shake this society to its very foundations…and all the eyes of this world will be upon you, Moke Kalapana, when I make them realize that you did nothing to stop them from carrying it out.”

  The monitor flashed and Moke’s picture disappeared for a few moments before it came back again, enlarged in size.

  Van Dien narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Kalapana’s picture. “I don’t know why you are so worried about what you did in the past…it’s what you did in the present is what’s going to cause you to fall from grace. After all, it was you who allowed the members of The Evil to persist as long as they did…you could have arrested them and put them in prison a long time ago…but you let The Evil continue…and I just can’t wait to see what these loony toons are gonna do…my plan is working perfectly…and soon, Captain Kalapana, I will finally tighten the noose I’ve placed around your neck and kick the chair from underneath you!”

  Location: The penthouse suite of the Mele Entertainment Corporate Headquarters.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 2115 Hours.

  The party in the penthouse had a high class atmosphere and was full of elegantly dressed people. Classical Ailanian music played over the speaker system. Snobbish laughter could be heard over conservative conversations.

  But at this very moment, Loko Kalaheva was not having any of it. He had locked himself in his bathroom and was snorting a long, red line of Cutz off a small mirror set on the sink.

  After the drug caused his heart to race and his head to clear a bit, Loko stood up and wiped his nose. He stared at himself in the mirror located above the sink. His wide Bontune face was wrinkled from stress and he felt his hands trembling as he said to himself, “Loko, old boy…you can get through this. It won’t be much longer now…just hang in there. We’ll soon get our just reward!”

  He sniffed again and wiped his nose as the Cutz sparked memories he had tried not to dwell upon for the past few weeks. He gasped as he remembere
d how the white haired man recently sat on the other side of his desk, smoking a cigarette, with a serious look on his face. Loko closed his eyes and sniffed again as he remembered what the white haired man had said, “Perhaps you’ve heard of me…”

  Loko shuttered as he remembered how he had said, “No…can’t say that I have…”

  “Of course you haven’t…no one on this planet usually sees my face, or hears my voice, unless it is absolutely necessary…and most of the time…those that talk to me…don’t live to tell anyone else about the conversation we had.”

  “O.K. then…mystery man…why are you in my office?”

  The white haired man took a slow drag and said, “Well…there is something that I need to tell you about. There is something that you need to do for me.”

  “There is something I need to do for you? I can’t imagine what that would be…”

  “Loko…surely you remember meeting me. It was about twenty years ago…you had just started this business venture of yours. You managed to do quite well for yourself on your own, and then one day…you decided that your business would do even better, if you had no one to compete against.”

  “Yes…and so I had a meeting with some Moralist High Senators…”

  “You gave them some campaign money…a lot of campaign money…”

  “Well, that was legal in those days…it still is…”

  Loko cringed as he recalled how the smoke had danced around the white haired man’s head as he said, “What some people call a bribe, other people call lobbying. You remember me being there, don’t you? I was probably wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie…just like I am wearing today…funny how some things don’t change.”

  “You told me something…”

  “I told you exactly what you could do for me…all so that I could ensure your planet’s survival. My plan required a Moralist government to be in charge…and the government needed a spokesman…and so I brokered a deal for you. Several months later, the Moralist High Senate, which you helped to elect with your campaign ads, passed legislation that allowed you to buy out, buy up and even criminalize your competitors. They allowed you to become a monopoly…the only game in town.”

  “Yeah…that was a good business move…”

  “Was it? True Capitalists don’t enlist the help of their government, so they might succeed at the expense of their fellow man. If you were a true Capitalist, Loko… you would have been able to obtain all this fame and fortune based on your own virtues. But guess what? All that you see around you, this enormous office, this expensive furniture, and those expensive clothes you are wearing…your success…and all you have obtained in life is ill-begotten. Nothing that you have today was the result of your superior intellect because you are a second hand person. What you believe you earned only came about because you were so good at impressing others…all of this, success…is the result of selling your soul.”

  “Yeah…and so what…do I owe you something now?”

  “Of course you do, Loko…the devil always comes to collect his due…and now your turn has come…”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No, all that I have given…can be taken away…unless you do something for me.”

  “Well…what do I have to do?”

  “Like I said, Loko…I have a plan…a plan to save this world from a great threat…I have a plan to save the people of this planet from themselves…and I still need your help to ensure my plan works.”

  From within his drug induced mind, Loko remembered how even the finest of details were explained to him just as vividly as he remembered his reaction, “You want me to do what? You can’t be serious… who are these goddamned Prisoners of Paradise? You want me to do what? YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!”

  “I’m as serious as the heart attack I will give your mother if you don’t corporate…”

  “But your plan…it is madness!”

  Loko felt his heart racing. His brain felt as if it were being pounded with a hammer while he thought about the plan, which the white haired man had explained to him in exquisite detail.

  “Oh my gods…what have I done?” He felt tears forming in his eyes as he realized what he had to do in order to fulfill his end of the bargain.

  “What am I going to do?” He gasped and tried not to sob as he realized what kind of action he would have to take in order to keep, what he believed, was rightfully his.

  Loko snorted and coughed. He opened his eyes and looked in the mirror above the sink, realizing that he didn’t like what he saw. He tried to smile and gain his composure. He leaned over the sink and snorted down another line of Cutz.

  Moments later, the feeling of pure ecstasy swept over him again.

  “Oh…baby…now that’s what I’m talking about…I know exactly what I’m going to do, I’m gonna beat that white-haired bastard at his own game.”

  He started feeling calm again as he remembered a much different conversation with a handsome stranger. Loko remembered how the handsome stranger spoke with a friendly voice.

  “Mr. Kalaheva…thank you for seeing me.”

  Loko felt himself giggling as he remembered the conversation and how he said, “The pleasure is all mine…as I understand it…you might have a solution to my…dilemma.”

  The stranger’s words were like a breath of fresh air as he said, “Loko, I have an offer that you should not refuse…I have a way for you to beat that white-haired devil at his own game…are you interested?”

  “Oh yes, absolutely…I need to free myself from the bastard’s plan…”

  The handsome stranger calmly said, “You see, under his plan…you would still be one of the richest men on Ailana…but with my plan…you could rid yourself of the government’s taxes, red-tape and regulations…and become rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams. You’re just like me, Loko…you’ve worked hard to become the rich and powerful man that you are…why should you have to lose that ground you’ve fought so hard to gain… just because he says it has to be that way…”

  Loko grinned as he recalled how he had said to the handsome stranger, “Oh, you have no idea how I want to stick it to that guy…”

  The handsome stranger smiled as he said, “If you join forces with me…I can help you become even richer, more powerful and even more famous than you already are…”

  “What do I have to do? I’ll do anything! I deserve to have my cake and eat it too!”

  “There is a man named Marco…”

  “Marco! You know of Marco? I know Marco. He…sells me, certain things.”

  “My plan involves Marco because he knows a man named Makula. And once we find these two men…we will be able to make ourselves rich and famous beyond our wildest dreams…”

  “Yes!”

  “Are you with me?”

  “Yes! What do I have to do?”

  Loko exhaled and felt nauseous for a few moments as he thought about the secret deal he had made, with the handsome stranger, behind Van Dien’s back. It had sounded so foolproof. He had been so certain that he would have been able to get away with it.

  Loko took a couple of deep breaths and said out loud, “But now…I’ve got the ability to beat that bastard at his own game…unless…those other assholes beat me to it,” He gritted his teeth and felt his nervous heart racing faster as he remembered the angry words in the letter, which had ended up on his desk a few hours ago.

  My friends and I know everything. We know about your plan to save your own ass from the coming destruction, which you helped ensure. We also know all about how this mysterious person who is trying to make themselves rich and famous at our expense. You bastard, do you actually think you’re going to get away with your traitorous plan? Just remember, the guilty always end up paying the ultimate price for their arrogance .We’re going to stop you! And you better pray that someone, who act
ually cares if you live or die, calls the cops before I get a chance to get my hands around your miserable neck!

  Loko started breathing as hard as he could in order to calm himself down. “Oh my gods…what have I gotten myself into? Come on now, Loko…get yourself together…it won’t be long now till this is all over. We’re on top of this…we’ve made all the arrangements, everything is in order. We’re gonna win! We’re gonna be the last man standing when it’s all said and done!”

  Location: 1st Street. Outside the Mele Entertainment Corporate Headquarters.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 2120 Hours.

  Kenny was panting as he opened the hovercar’s door and quickly sat down in the passenger seat. He slammed the door and said, “Well…that was a lot easier to do than I thought it would be. It was like someone shut down most of the system before I even got there.”

  The large, Kupano bodyguard behind the wheel did not seem impressed, and his face remained stoic as he said, “Something about this evening…just don’t sit right with me.”

  Kenny looked at the large man and said, “What do you mean, Charlie?”

  Charlie looked at him with annoyed eyes and said, “You don’t really seem like the criminal type there, Kenny. How did you get into this organization anyway?”

  Kenny found himself staring at the man’s angular jaw. He became a bit scared as he said, “Well, Charlie…I can assure you…I am the criminal type. My father was a friend of Makula’s…he did the sort of work I do…only I really don’t handle getting around the tax codes the way my dad used to do…”

  Charlie made his large hand into a huge fist, and rubbed his angular jaw as he said, “I’m not saying that you’re not a stand-up guy or anything like that, Kenny…but, remember that night I drove you to that security building so you could deactivate the alarms on that storage facility? I saw some things, Kenny…things that make me want to ask some questions.”