Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  “THERE IS NO POINT, RON! Because none of those things that you see in your dreams ever happened, those memories are what the doctors call false phantoms! They are nothing more than a result of your post-traumatic stress syndrome messing with your mind…and that’s why you need to take the pills!” He remembered how she screamed at him. “I don’t understand why you do this to us! Why do you need to continue this nonsense dream of returning to that horrible planet? Why are you not happy here on Earth? Why are you not happy with me? What’s so wrong with our lives now?! Is it me?!”

  “Uh…no baby, I love you.”

  He remembered how she was in tears as she said, “Don’t I take good care of you? Don’t I love you and comfort you and stick by your side every time you come home from a mission crying like a baby and needing me to hold you?! What the hell is wrong, Ron?! Am I not the perfect wife? Now stop this nonsense, and take that damn medicine so that the nightmares will stay away!”

  “I DON’T WANT THEM TO STAY AWAY! I WANT TO REMEMBER WHAT MY LIFE USED TO BE LIKE BEFORE IT WAS TAKEN AWAY FROM ME!”

  His head began hurting as the voices started screaming at him like lost souls falling through the darkness. “You’re not a very talented little shit are you? Now just shut up and do as you are told!”

  “I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THERE!”

  Harris remembered how he spit the pill out and flushed it down the toilet when she wasn’t looking. Because of that rebellious decision, he was able to remember the feeling of warm, ocean water on his skin as a boy. He remembered how the warm rays of sunlight felt on his face. But that wasn’t enough, he wanted to remember more. He lied to her and told her he had been taking the medication until one night, he remembered a large, Ailanian man, with fancy clothes and a big cigar. He remembered a few things the large, Ailanian man had said to him, and how all those things seemed to make so much sense.

  “Son,” Harris remembered the Ailanian’s voice as he puffed on the cigar, “We’re family. Do ya understand what that means? I’ve done everything for you…when no one else would help you out…I did… because that’s what family does. When no one else would be your friend…I was there for ya. I gave you food, clothes and shelter. I allowed you to make money for yourself, and given you opportunities no one else would have done because no one else believes in you the way I do. We’re family…we help each other out, we look after each other. And now, it’s time for you to help me out…to help your family out…”

  After the image of the large, Ailanian man and his cigar disappeared from his mind, Harris remembered how the remote Ailanian beach looked like a piece of Heaven in the pale moonlight. He remembered how the gun felt in his hands as he aimed it at the young Ailanian man’s head. He remembered how the young man’s hands and feet were tied, how his mouth was gagged, and how his eyes were pleading with him. Harris remembered the soft, scared words of his friend who was standing next to him, “Iki…do we have to do this?”

  Harris remembered pulling the trigger and seeing the blood spill onto the sand.

  “Tell me, why do I keep dreaming about that night if it never happened?!”

  He remembered waking up screaming. The very next day he started taking his medication again, and things returned to normal.

  Until just now…

  “Ron?” Jori asked. “Ron, are you alright?”

  Harris suddenly came to, like a boxer who had just shaken off a punch. “Oh sorry…yeah…to tell you the truth…I guess, I’ve always felt different from everybody else…there is something about me…that’s just, different. I really can’t explain it. I don’t think like normal people do.”

  The Aurorian was almost short of breath as she said, “Well, if we have to be stuck in this miserable situation together, I at least want to hear you say something of significance. These damned monitor programs are just so damned mindless.”

  Harris thought about that for a second. “Ma’am, I must inform you that this miserable situation, which we are in, will only get worse because I am actually a man of few words. I spend my days telling people to move faster, and how I’m going to insert my size fourteen boot in their backsides if they don’t…of course, I usually use harsher language, and a very loud, yet effective tone.”

  “Oh really?”

  Harris remained stoic as he lied to her, “Yes, and if you wish to speak about my personal past, well…I can assure you that we can spend about a whole five minutes on that topic. It was pretty boring growing up on that Military base on Ailana, nothing exciting or worthwhile happened until I joined The Military.” Harris sat back in his chair realizing that despite his desire for conversation, his desire to keep his past a secret was even stronger.

  She glared at him, “Oh come on now! I refuse to believe that YOU led a boring life. You had to have done SOMETHING that was interesting and out of the ordinary. It must have been really interesting to have grown up as a human on Ailana. What happened to you there?”

  “Let’s just say it’s complicated…my memory ain’t so good. I guess it’s a combination of just being born dumb as a rock…and amnesia. I got it from the armored suit I have to wear into battle…I guess the radiation scrambles your brains…but then again…what’s the point of remembering something, that you would rather forget anyway?”

  She seemed interested as she said, “What do you want to forget?”

  He found himself becoming lost in thought again. In his mind, bombs were exploding all around him. He took a deep breath and brought himself back to reality. “I don’t wanna talk about it…it’s real unpleasant to hear…”

  “Wrong, it’s unpleasant for you to talk about,” She sighed and said, “I mean, it only seems that it would only be a matter of time, before we get to know each other better, and we start talking about unpleasant things like, life’s disappointments…which would inevitably make us talk to each other about people who have wronged us. Don’t you know someone…who you wish you could just kill…because of what they did to you?”

  “I think I’ve felt that way…about someone,” Harris said softly.

  She didn’t hear him at all, she just continued talking, “Right now, I am trying so hard to not hate this…certain person I once knew, for what they did to me…but it’s just so hard to do.”

  His face became drawn as he thought about what she said.

  She said, “And now I have to go to Ailana, and face them again after all this time.”

  Harris bit his lower lip and then said, “Yeah…I gotta do the same thing…”

  She said, “And somehow, I’m going to have to force myself to act civilized while this person, who hurt me, explains themselves and their pathetic actions, that were always based on their own self-interests and selfish motives.”

  Harris felt his hands begin to shake as he remembered the sound of police sirens.

  She said, “Why do we fall for, and end up loving these people, who only end up using us? Why do we give them our hearts, our hopes…and our dreams? Why do we allow them to be the cause of our downfall? Why don’t they warn us that we are about to destroy ourselves by believing their lies? And if they do warn us…why don’t we listen? Is there any way for us to get revenge against those who have done these things to us? Or should we just continue to blame ourselves?”

  Harris felt his heart pounding. He could no longer hear her voice. The memories of that Kupano boy were bombarding his brain again, along with those repressed feelings of anger, guilt and injustice that he had been bottled up inside of himself for so many years now.

  The monitor wailed, “UP NEXT ON THE WILDLIFE CHANNEL, WHEN FUNGUS ATTACKS PART TWO!!”

  Harris closed his eyes and thought, “Don’t worry…my revenge is coming soon enough…”

  Location: Mele Entertainment Headquarters.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1500 Hours.

  “Whatever this game is that you are playing�
��consider it over…”

  The memory of a conversation, which he had a few months ago, vanished as Grant’s mind became fixated on a different memory. He took a deep breath as he remembered being shown an identification badge from what appeared to be a very important government agent. He recalled how the badge had been wrapped inside a black wallet, as he heard the voice saying, “Funny thing, how Loko Kalaheva died. Well, I guess there is nothing funny about it…but it was a bit odd…a bit peculiar. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Just stay calm…we can get through this,” Grant thought as he avoided eye contact and tried to make it look like he was busy looking at important items on his screen. “Multi-tasking…I’ve always been good at multi-tasking. This is just another chance to prove that I can juggle a lot of things at once…they told me about this guy…just remember, be the tortoise…slow and steady is what is gonna win this game.”

  Grant tried not to make it look as if his heart was pounding with fear as he carefully lied while he said, “Loko lived fast…he died fast. There is nothing peculiar about that. I was once nothing more than a glorified assistant with a glorified title. I had no idea the true extent of the trouble he had gotten himself into.”

  “How could you have known what he was really doing? You being so, busy and all?”

  “Loko was a great liar as well…I’ve been dealt a shitty hand…but it’s not the cards that matter…it’s how you play them…and I learned from the best,” Grant sighed and said, “Yes…this job I have now, is quite demanding…it takes a lot out of you.”

  “That was a beautiful eulogy you gave at his funeral.”

  Grant did not look up from his screen. He simply replied, “I thought it to be appropriate.”

  “It was very appropriate.”

  Grant felt his jaw tense as he tried to keep his stoic, game face on. His thoughts were not calm as he realized how this could potentially end when the voice said, “So, I guess I should get right to the point…you probably know why I’m here.”

  Grant was calm as he said, “Sir, I am very busy…can I please ask what it is that you want?”

  “I think you know what I want, Grant.”

  Grant averted his eyes as he said read the piece of paper that had just been slid across his desk. It didn’t contain the instructions he had been anticipating. Grant felt the pressure in his lungs decreasing as a sense of relief flowed through him, but he kept his poker face as he said, “so, this is what you want?”

  “No,” the voice replied. “It’s what they want.”

  Grant’s eyes remained fixated on the paper in front of him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “They?” He asked.

  “Your public…my mob,” The voice said. “Loko Kalaheva was a great man in the eyes of so many of Ailana’s people…he gained a great amount of fortune and fame, by convincing them not to think for themselves. He spoon-fed the sheep of Ailana…he made them run in a single direction…and they loved him for it.”

  “This is contract expansion…this paper says I’ve been given government approval to expand on Loko’s news broadcasting business. I guess this means…he bought my lies…I’m in the clear now, I’ve got nothing to worry about…I can continue with my plan…” Grant thought before he said,“His was a fame that should be continued by someone, of equal greatness.”

  “Now, are you sure that we have an agreement here? I need someone I can trust, someone who really wants what I have to offer. I am entrusting you with a great public opinion tool, Grant…how bad do you want this opportunity?”

  “For the chance to become rich and famous while ruling those empty headed people out there with an iron fist, by being the creator of public opinion. That sort of opportunity can only turn me into an icon…or even better yet, a god. For that, I’d sell my soul,” Grant said with confidence.

  “Consider it done,” Van Dien said as he lit a cigarette. He stood up and straightened out his black suit coat and slacks as he said, “Just remember, Grant, there are rules to be abided by. There are laws that must be enforced so that we can all enjoy a civil society. You’ll be expected to do your part. You will be expected to carry out Loko’s legacy.”

  “Believe me…for the money you’ve just offered me…I plan on playing very nice. I plan on producing a lot of news programs that spell out the truth our people want to hear. They want to know that we have it good on Ailana, despite the hard times we are facing. They want to know that Loko Kalaheva was the victim of terrorism…and terrorism is the result of a jealous mindset. They want to know that people, who work hard, get rewarded for their hard work, and they want to know that the Ailanian dream is well within their grasp if they do the right thing. They want to know that those, who resort to terrorism, do so because they are jealous of those who they perceive as being better off than they are.”

  “Please, go on…I would love to hear your company’s official position on this, important subject.”

  Grant remained stoic and cold as he said, “On Ailana, those who have more, have simply worked harder or had higher levels of ability than those, who find themselves, living in a state of depravity. Those that resort to terrorism do so, because of their feelings of inadequacy. They look around and see inequality, but refuse to believe that their lot in life was caused by their own actions and decisions. They drum up feelings of oppression. Their jealously and hatred brings about delusions of others, who have better fortunes than they do, as being involved in a conspiracy meant to keep them depraved. Those who get wrapped up with conspiracy theories tend to feel the need to act out…it’s nothing more than a sick mind-set, the result of a ‘fuck them before they fuck you’ kind of attitude. Terrorism is not a means of bringing forth liberation from oppression…it is a mental illness…and nothing more.”

  “Well put, Grant.” A sinister grin crossed Van Dien’s lips as he said, “The people need that kind of reassurance. I’ve been getting a real bad feeling, that there is someone, or even an entire group of people, on Ailana, who has the mindset that you just described.”

  Grant sat there frozen for a few moments as he realized that the white haired man, who was standing in front of his desk while giving him a cold stare, was in fact, waiting for him to give some kind of incriminating answer.

  Grant kept a stoic face and a stiff posture as he said, “yes, our news rooms have been instructed to keep a vigilant lookout for such people.”

  “Funny, that was the exact policy Loko had…and it apparently, it was dealing with these people that got your former boss killed.”

  Grant kept a straight face as he said, “And I assume, that reporters…just like law enforcement agents…have the uncanny knack of not seeing what is right under their nose.”

  “Believe me, Grant…if I ever find these people, who caused your former boss to fall off the roof of this building…they won’t be on my good side anymore. I trust that you want to do the right thing and stay on my good side.”

  “I plan on being an asset to your cause, sir.”

  Van Dien looked at him squarely and said, “Really?”

  “Oh, I plan on walking a very straight and narrow line here…there is just the matter of fooling that other guy who called me just recently…but to hell with him, with this assistance I just received, my chances of beating that fool at his own game just increased…I’m going to be the last man standing…” Grant thought before he stood up and extended his hand as he said, “I am at your service, sir. Whatever I can do to help…don’t be afraid to ask.”

  “Good…then you and I will get along just fine,” Van Dien said as he shook Grant’s hand.

  Grant smiled back as he saw how the white haired man adjusted his black necktie, and proceeded to walk out of the office, leaving Grant alone. Upon seeing Van Dien walk out the door, Grant let out a long sigh of relief and fell back into his enormous, comfortable chair. He took a deep, relaxing breath a
s he pressed a couple buttons on his keyboard.

  “Have I just sold my soul to the devil? Does this make me, a pawn, or a player in this great game that can only have one outcome?” He thought as he brought up a memo letterhead file. “Oh well…there is a reason for all of this…to the winner go the spoils…there is a reason why I am doing this…and I don’t plan on stopping until I’ve reached my ultimate goal.”

  To: All Mele Entertainment Employees.

  From: Grant Kanumuku, Acting President of Mele Entertainment.

  We are now entering a new era in Ailanian business. The equality of the workforce is almost at hand. As a show of this collective spirit of goodwill, I have authorized a 2 percent raise, for everyone. No matter if you sweep the floors, or if you sit in the position I am in now, everyone gets the same raise, 2 percent. With this raise, we hope to boost some good will in this time of senseless tragedy. We are striving for a whole new beginning that brings equality among people, and hopefully, we will achieve it soon.

  Grant scrolled through his accounting records and watched what the two percent raise did to the salaries of the clerks, the typists, the data processors, the janitors, the carpet fungus removers, the junior reporters, the digital stenographers, the marketing personnel, the accountants, the hardware and software jocks, the camera operators, the sound checkers, the boom mechanics, the make-up artists, and the other people who were low on the corporate ladder. Grant imagined their rejoicing and the all the drinks that they could buy each other at the clubs and bars tonight with their newly earned cash. The lower middle class would thank him.

  “But that’s not all…” He thought as he continued to scroll through the records. Then, like a deity who had just received a sacrifice, his excitement grew as he saw the salaries of the sectional managers, the divisional managers, the senior editors and senior reporters, along with the staff chiefs and the account managers grow as well. The upper middle class would sing hymns of praise meant for him tonight because money he just threw at them was enough to buy a brand new monitor that their neighbors wished they could afford.