Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  “No one survived tonight’s gun battle at the warehouses?”

  “The one’s that did are on life support waiting to become organ donors,” Charlie said and took another sip.

  “Good,” Awa said, “I guess we can officially say that the playing field has been leveled a bit. You were right, Charlie it was time to thin the herd, or downsize, as those so called ‘legitimate’ Ailanian businesses call it.”

  “Yup,” Charlie said and bit his lip.

  Awa said, “Hatred is a good motivator to get untrustworthy gang members to get themselves killed while they try to shoot up their rivals…and now, thanks to all that violence and doubletalk…we got ourselves a slimmed down organization full of very loyal people…and a few less enemies and competitors.”

  Charlie took a long sip and set the glass back down on the desk as he said, “Pseudo-capitalists give their incompetent workers pink slips and then proceed to lay off the ones who know how to do their jobs after the legislation has been passed and bailout money has been arranged. We, on the other hand, need another way to deal with those in our ranks who can’t seem to do their job and get arrested over and over again.”

  “You are one smart son-of-a-bitch, Charlie,” Awa chuckled as he took a drink.

  Charlie appeared not to look nervous, even though his guts were tumbling as he said, “Those whom we sent into battle tonight to face down the Kukane family…they might have served your father well in the past, but they were getting sloppy…and their hatred for their rivals was getting in the way of them doing their jobs. And even though a lot of blood was shed tonight…things will be better this way.”

  “You are proving to be a very effective man to have around, Charlie,” Awa said as he slugged his drink back. “And by the way…that guy named Bronson Petrilock? How did things go with him?”

  “Let’s just put it this way,” Charlie said as he tried to keep his lies and deceptions straight. He held his breath as he remembered how he had come across Bronson being held against the alley wall by the strange man in the black hat and trench coat. Charlie exhaled as he said, “If he was the one who was ratting out your father…he’s been taken care of.”

  “Good,” Awa said. “We’ll proceed with our new Cutz making strategy.”

  Charlie felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he thought, “Oh thank the gods! Soon all this bullshit I’ve had to go through will be worth it.”

  Awa leaned back in his chair and said, “We’ll start by operating the secret labs, like my father used to do. For starters, only I will know where they are…all Makani shipments get sent to locations known only to one processor.”

  “I see,” Charlie said as he pressed his lips together and thought of the fine line he had crossed by helping Awa to kill all those young men. “What kind of monster have I become…what piece of my soul will I have to sell next in order to get my superiors the justice they demand?”

  Awa said, “For now, your job will be to keep your eye on Kenny. Make sure he isn’t visiting that whore he used to call his wife. And be sure to keep his nose to the computer keyboard so he can make us some money while we wait for our processors to get their act together. The fact is…this gang war, we just started, will be keeping the local cops busy for quite some time. This violence, that the city will be experiencing, will be the perfect cover for you two to pull off your heists.”

  “Will do boss,” Charlie said as he finished his drink. “You heard the man, Kenny…let’s get moving. It’s time to be a bad guy again…and we got a whole lot of work to do.”

  Kenny felt his heart racing as he remembered the white haired man saying, “Remember the deal we made, Kenny. I still need you to steal something for me…if you want to see your wife and daughter again… I suggest you figure out a way to keep your end of the bargain.”

  Awa’s angry voice broke Kenny’s concentration, “What’s the deal, Kenny? You seem a bit distracted. What’s the matter? Don’t tell me ya ain’t got the stomach for all this gangster shit ya gotta do now?”

  Kenny shot Awa a worried glance as he said, “No, boss…I’m ready to keep my end of the bargain. Believe me, I plan on being a man of my word.”

  Kenny bit his lip as he remembered a certain man’s voice saying, “we still have a lot of work to do…so just remember…keep it on the low…don’t tell anyone what is happening…until we know who is behind all of this. Remember Kenny, part of becoming a rich man, is knowing when to keep your mouth shut!”

  Location: Somewhere in outer space.

  Standard Ship Time: 0100 Hours.

  The party started once the Envoy had left Ailana’s solar system, and had continued non-stop ever since. A quick stop at the Balkner Space Station assured that the ship would have more than enough booze, drugs, and women, who were willing to satisfy, as long as they had access to booze and drugs.

  Music with a heavy laden beat thumped loudly as people packed into a fancy lounge that was paneled in expensive Ailanian hardwoods and furnished with large, comfortable chairs and couches. People danced, and threw confetti in the air while they drank expensive liquors from long, glass bottles.

  People sat around wooden tables doing lines of cocaine and sucking down the smoke from large bong loads of Cutz. Girls with short skirts and lots of make-up snuggled up close to large, muscle bound men who had rugged faces and razor stubble. At the center of attention, was Marco, dressed in a fancy, black tuxedo. His smile was from ear to ear.

  “Drink up everybody!” Marco yelled above the noise of the music and the rowdy crowd. “And before you pass out in your bunks tonight, be sure to thank the gods for Capitalism!”

  The crowd cheered with wild enthusiasm. Marco waved the bottle he was holding in the air, and let its contents spill all over everybody that was crowded around him. Marco felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked behind him and saw a short, ugly man, who appeared frantic.

  “Enjoy yourselves everyone!” Marco yelled, “I’ll be back in a few!” He turned and began to force his way out of the crowded room into the passageway.

  Digs, his maintenance man, was looking very concerned.

  “What’s up?” Marco said as he brushed the confetti out of his hair.

  “Just come here for a second,” Digs said frantically and began to quickly walk down the passageway. The lounge they entered was a bit smaller than the one they had just left. Marco’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he looked at the monitor and thought, “what the hell is this all about?”

  Marco looked over at Digs, who had pried off one of the electronic panels off the monitor, and appeared to be frantically looking for something.

  Digs looked at Marco with frightened eyes and cried out, “I can’t make it stop!”

  “Holy shit…” Marco whispered to himself as he looked into the control box that housed a mass of wires, circuits and a small, black object that he had remembered stealing from the crashed Military aircraft back on Earth a few months ago. He remembered how a crate of those things had been sitting next to the three items his clients on Ailana wanted him to steal for them. It had just been too tempting not to take everything and run back to Ailana.

  Marco sighed as he remembered how it all went down. He remembered the conversation he and Jhett had before they blasted off. “Marco…are you sure you want to take these things? These things are the real deal. I mean, the guns and ammo for the gang members to blast holes in each other is one thing…but if these things get into the wrong hands…there could be some serious consequences. These small black ones…they can cause some damage…but these three silver ones here…those are some serious shit. Marco, are you sure you wanna take the chance?”

  “They already gave me a big down payment, Jhett…I want them to be able to see and touch these things for a little while so we can collect the rest of our money from them. Trust me…we’re not gonna actually let those fools keep them. W
e’re gonna steal them back at some point and use them as the ultimate bargaining chips so we can obtain complete control over those boys in the jungle…besides, how can those geeks cause us any harm anyway?”

  “Son of a bitch…” Marco said as he looked at the monitor again as brief memories of doing business with Jacob Colombe filled his mind. He remembered how he had sat across the table from a bald man as he whispered, “That geeky bastard must have spoken to that guy named Tim Gallagher…I guess double-crossing computer hackers isn’t a good idea after all. But who the hell is this guy on the monitor?”

  He stared intently at the monitor screen again. The image was fuzzy, but Marco could tell that he was looking at the face of a man, who had gleaming white hair.

  “Marco,” The fuzzy image said. “I just had to make sure you got this recording. I’m so happy we had a chance to meet, if it wasn’t for your efforts, I wouldn’t have what I need to ensure my plan succeeds. And I must say, you pulled off a real good heist back there on Ailana…congratulations…but Marco…did you honestly think…that I was going to let you live? The idea is to have Ailana, and its most profitable commodity, all to myself…that’s just good business sense.”

  Marco’s mind flashed back to a time, not so long ago, when he met a man, with white hair, and shook his hand in what was supposed to be the business deal of a life time.

  “That fucking guy…he did this to me? I should have known…”

  Digs jumped up and became ecstatic as he said, “Marco! I disarmed it! I disarmed it!”

  “Ah…shit,” Marco said softly. “It doesn’t matter…I stole five of those little, black bombs.”

  At that instant of dire realization, the entire ship began to rock violently. The sounds of two, distinct explosions could be heard as everybody on board was thrown from their feet, tossed through the air, and slammed into an opposing wall with a violent force as the yacht began to tumble and spin wildly out of control.

  Within a matter of minutes, the hull cracked open and the ship’s life support systems failed. Flames engulfed the inside of the ship, and the lower three decks appeared to glitter with white sparks and flashing lights. The vacuum of space swallowed up the sound of screams and buckling metal. Three minutes later, all the available oxygen dissipated into the void of space, and Marco’s conscious brain, uttered its final thought.

  “Capitalism, a really good idea gone bad…Capitalism is something that demands the best from every man…Capitalism, is freedom…but it makes a man believe ‘I’m free to do whatever I need to do…so I can get rich or die trying…even if it’s at the expense of others’…Capitalism, the ultimate game where the winner takes all…and now I’m feeling what it’s like…to be on the losing end. It’s almost funny…now I know how much it sucks to lose everything, just so that someone else can gain what they so desire. Laissez-faire means hands off…no government shall interfere with business in a Capitalist worlds…and I guess that idea makes sense, because there is no way to regulate a system, that consistently brings out the worst in men…funny how it all works out in the end. I guess this is how the invisible hand makes everything right…ain’t life a bitch?”

  Marco felt the skin on his face crystallizing for less than a second. His death was quick and painless.

  Location: The HalawalachekMountains…..4500 meters.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1800 Hours.

  Bobby “The Blade” Maku collapsed under the weight of his pack again, and after a few moments of heavy breathing, he managed to get on his hands and knees. He shook his head back and forth a few times and breathed in and out as hard as he could. He had been gasping for air for the last hour. The air was thin at this altitude, and the lush jungle had given away to the small bushes and yellowed grass of the highlands. The rocks were gray and covered with lichens. The group had been climbing up the treacherous mountain slope all day, and it was getting colder as they got higher and higher.

  “I can’t…do it…I can’t go on…we gotta stop…” he wheezed.

  One of the young men in the group, suddenly decided that he had seen enough, and walked over to Bobby and began to strip him of his back pack. Feeling a bit of relief, Bobby shrugged it off and then sat down on the thin grass that covered the wide ledge. One of the other Kupano men opened the backpack and took out the small, green metal cases that it contained. He passed them out among the others in the group, who then proceeded to put them into their own packs.

  “Kahuku?” Bobby said, his head spinning, “What are you doing?”

  “There was no fire in the city the other night, Bobby…Makana says this needs to be done,” The young man said as he gave the others the small green metal cases that had been in Bobby’s pack.

  “Soon…this evil will come to an end,” Makana smirked as he thought about how his friends in the city must have completed their mission because they did not see an explosion in the city that night. This was a good indication that his friends, who he had once sheltered, had been successful in not blowing themselves up as they stole the merchandise they had bragged to him about.

  Bobby gasped as he said, “Naw, man…don’t be doing that…just let me rest overnight…let’s camp here…it’s a good spot.” He looked at the group’s leader and pleaded, “Right Makana? This is a good spot. We can just camp here, and leave early in the morning.”

  Everyone else was silent for a few minutes before Makana spoke in a somber tone, “We gotta keep moving Bobby, we’re behind schedule as it is…if we don’t make it to the rendezvous point on time…we could jeopardize this whole thing. We’ve got people who need this stuff we’re carrying.”

  “They can wait! They will wait!” Bobby said, his eyes looked desperate and his words seemed to be begging. “They can wait…we’re not that far behind!”

  The young man who had taken away Bobby’s back-pack looked at Makana and said, “I told you we should not have brought him along…he’s not like us…he’s not good for the cause.”

  “Shut the hell up man!” Bobby said defensively, as he began to feel his eyes tearing up. “I took a knife in the leg for the cause! It was me who got you guys this stuff in the first place!”

  “You should have stayed back at the warehouse in the city…you’re not like us…you’re not one of us.” Someone said calmly.

  “Shut the hell up man! I’m a Kupano just like you! I may have been raised in the city, but I’m just like you!” Bobby cried out, “I’m just like you!”

  Makana looked at him somberly and said, “Bobby…I’ve known ya since we were boys. But I guess I never once told ya about how I really feel about ya…I guess my mother taught me to be polite.”

  Bobby looked nervous as he wheezed, “What are you talking about?”

  “When we did chores, you always figured out ways to get out of doing something, or just did something half-ass, and without any pride…ya just didn’t ever really give a shit about anything, and ya just wanted life to be easy, ya wanted everything just handed to ya. Quite frankly, Bobby, you whined a lot as a kid, and it bothered me…I just never told ya. And you whine a hell of a lot more now than ya used to.”

  “Shut up! Can’t you see I’m just tired, that’s all,” Bobby said as he tried to catch his breath.

  Makana sneered, “and look at ya now, complaining the whole time…whining about how ya girlfriend left ya, and how life just handed ya a raw deal, and nothing ever goes your way.”

  I wonder why sometimes. Ya just like ya dad Bobby, ya never had much ambition to begin with, and ya did even less to achieve the few goals ya set for yerself…ya just spent all that time whining about how hard it is to get something done, always feeling sorry for yerself, and always trying to convince everyone else to feel sorry for ya as well. Well guess what cousin? That shit ain’t workin’ with us…we, have a goal.”

  Muffled snickers and chuckles echoed throughout the group. Bobby felt angry eyes on him
.

  He decided to act as he always did when confronted, tough and arrogant. “What the hell is this shit?” Bobby snickered back, “What? Do you bunch of backwoods, illiterate fools actually believe that you are achieving some kind of goal here?”

  “Yeah, Bobby, that’s exactly what this is,” Makana said sternly. “We might not be as smart as you, but we know how long it takes to pack all this stuff up these mountains and get it to our teammates, who are near a village full of our people, who are in dire need of our help. If we don’t get the things that you are carrying to them…they might not be able to help the people in this village before it’s too late.”

  “We can still make it there tomorrow.”

  “That’s not the point, we need to get there tonight.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “No, we just have what takes to be Kupano warriors…you don’t cousin. Individualism is not an option in this group, unlike your bullshit world in the city, this is not a democracy…there is a need for conformity here. All of us, think alike, and those who hold the beliefs of your world, cannot claim our heritage.”

  Bobby hissed, “Shut up man…I have every right to claim my heritage…”

  Makana became enraged but kept his composure as he said, “you left our people for the modern world. When your father divorced my mother’s cousin, you decided to follow his stupid ass to the city because he said you could have a monitor to watch all your favorite shows on. I hear he did pretty well at the box factory before those gangsters killed him over his gambling debts…speaking of which, how were you doing as a professional gambler Bobby? What was it you told me yesterday? Is it true that the drug dealer, who you used to work for in the city, got himself all beat the hell up and needed to leave the planet or something? So that means the people you owe money to, don’t have to worry about pissing your boss off now, eh?”