Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  “Wow…sounds real complicated…”

  Van Dien slapped Rodd across the face and said, “You don’t know the half of it! Loko hired these idiot hit men so that he could screw over Makula Pilikoa and exploit his drug empire. Loko decided the deal that I had made with him earlier wasn’t enough…so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Loko hired some assholes who failed to kill Makula so he could take over his entire drug operation without my knowledge. But unfortunately, someone else discovered Loko’s plan before I did, and found a creative way to take advantage of the situation for their own benefit…and now Loko, along with so many other people are dead…and I am scrambling to figure out what the hell is happening on my planet!”

  “Sorry to hear that…did ya know that sucker had b-b-b-bay…l-l-leeeeen?”

  Van Dien paused and took some time to walk around his prisoners, giving them an icy stare before he said, “His actions, just like yours, have been making my plan a lot harder to implement that it should be! Damn you two! Damn you for your need to dig! To meddle! To uncover nothing! Thanks to you, I have too much going on with all these loose ends, and loose cannons, that I need to keep under wraps and under my control! What was it that you boys think you found out there in the desert anyway?”

  Rodd seemed to be looking around the room. His eyes viewed the gray walls and followed the pipes that were attached to them. Behind him, a cloud of yellow smoke fell from a vent. The light seemed to change into shadows on his sweaty face, as he looked forward and said, “We found…”

  “You found nothing!” Van Dien shouted with hostility as he pushed another button. Rodd shook violently and screamed through his tightly clenched teeth. Van Dien watched him rattle around in the restraints like a struggling fish on a hook. Van Dien then wrinkled his nose in disgust as the current ceased, and the man collapsed onto himself.

  “You found nothing out there!” Van Dien said, shaking his fists, “Let’s face the facts here, your theories were founded by crack-pots like Dr. DeWolf Miller, and your evidence is shaky! Disputable! Better yet, ludicrous! This whole idea, this theory, and this dream that you have is nothing but a display of total incompetence! Have you no reason, no good common sense? Archeology is a useless endeavor! It has no meaning. Why? Because the past has no meaning! You deal with the past. Why? There is no such thing as the past, only the now and the whenever! You’re minds are sick! They always have been! Don’t you realize that you are both crazy? Don’t you understand that the sooner you realize you are crazy…the better you will feel?”

  They hung in their restraints, looking like men who were suffering through a crucifixion. Then, as Van Dien stared in anger at the men he had just shocked into submission, he heard a low, tingling sound. It was laughter. It was laughter coming from the other end of the room.

  “Excuse me for a minute, gentlemen,” Van Dien said to the two drained men before him. He turned to his left, and began walking. His footsteps clanked as he strode. The laughter got a bit louder, it seemed to be the laughter of someone who was teasing someone, making fun of them, and trying to bring them to anger.

  Van Dien began to step lightly as he walked into a white cloud of smoke. He exited the other side of the smoke and turned to face another human man, who was strapped to another table. The man was middle aged, thin, and had a wrinkled face with deep laugh lines and creases by his eyes. His bruised face was covered with razor stubble. He had a full head of curly brown hair, and some of his teeth were crooked. The man wore no shirt, only pants. His half-naked body was thin and emaciated. He had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. It appeared to be the sort of strong willed smile that no one could erase.

  “Hello…Pete,” Van Dien said calmly.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Pete chuckled. “Ya ’all think you’re pretty damn smart, don’t ya?”

  “Yes, Pete…I do.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” Pete mumbled and grinned, “I’ve seen em’ come in here. I’ve seen em’ leave, just a bit more dead than when they arrived…you’re using the chemicals and electro-shock to kill it aren’t ya?”

  “Kill what, Pete?”

  “Don’t fuck with me! I know you’re trying to kill the very thing that makes these poor bastards tick!” Pete cried out, “People come in here, with hopes, dreams and aspirations. Like those biochemists…who worked at the Cedar Hills Institute of Technology!”

  “You know about them, Pete?”

  “Hell yeah!” Pete laughed. His eyes seem to roll in his head. “And I know why you’re doing this! It’s about power isn’t it?”

  “Pete…I have no idea what you are talking about,” Van Dien said with a look of calm upon his face. His eyes showed indifference and his mouth showed contempt. He reached into his suit coat, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one cigarette from the pack, and looked at Pete with the same eyes of indifference as he lit up, and took a long, slow drag. He then exhaled a large cloud of smoke into Pete’s face.

  Pete’s face contained a pain that could not be let known. In an attempt to keep his mind off of his discomfort Pete said, “I know why you’re making those people suffer…I know all about your secret plan and what you’re doing to keep it a secret. I know why you kidnapped those archeologists and biochemists. I know why you brought them down here! I know what you’re doin’ to them! You’re killing their spirits, and their ego’s because you are afraid of the change that might occur on Ailana if they succeed, you are afraid of losing your power to people like them!”

  Van Dien simply stared at Pete for a few seconds, without any sort of expression on his face. “I don’t really understand the true extent of your obsessions just yet, Pete. But this mysterious conspiracy that you have spent your pathetic life trying to solve…is really nothing more than history repeating itself. Weird people change history, Pete…there was no second sniper on the grassy knoll…the CIA didn’t kill Kennedy…just like the guy who shot Lincoln, acted alone…because he was bat shit crazy…there is no secret society trying to influence the outcome of anything…and everything, happens just by chance and by chance alone.”

  “I’m not crazy!” Pete shouted, “Soon the whole world…the whole freakin’ galaxy is gonna know what I know!”

  Van Dien sighed and said, “Why do you people, who love these conspiracy theories, feel the need to revise history? Here’s what really happened, there was a war that needed to be won…and the Ailanians agreed to help. We didn’t colonize this planet, Pete…we were invited, and when we landed our city ships, the modernization of Ailanian civilizations that came afterward was actually quite welcome. Believe me…all the creatures in this universe actually want what the people of Earth and Aurora have. Things like indoor plumbing and electricity make shopping malls possible, Pete…don’t forget that. We didn’t need to coerce anyone…nor did we need to undertake some sort of secret plan to overthrow the Ailanian monarchs…they realized that their survival was dependent upon their cooperation with us.”

  “We know what you did to this planet!”

  Van Dien rolled his eyes and said, “Ah yes, all these conspiracies about how we made this planet into a War Machine. Pete, the modern Ailanian society that grew from the War Machine effort, was embraced by the Ailanian people…they came out of the jungles and from the plains and deserts to participate.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “It’s true, Pete…when we arrived the Ailanians were starving, their civilizations on the decline…and we not only revived their livelihoods…we basically threw a big party here. We had all kinds of things for the natives to do in the factories and cities we built. Then, because we needed even more workers, we shipped in a whole bunch of human colonists from Earth and gave them, and our new Ailanian allies, opportunities for work and recreation. And Pete, the beauty of it all, nobody was forced to do anything they didn’t want to do.”

  “You created slavery here! You tur
ned what could have been paradise into a prison!”

  “Working for the War Machine effort was completely voluntary because free beer and food, along with the opportunity to sustain a drug habit, will keep most people interested in doing just about anything. If slavery exists on this planet today, Pete…it’s not our fault. And the reason why, is due to the fact that the Ailanian people put on their own chains when they found out how nice it was to not have to think and fend for themselves anymore. And as far as my secret plan goes…I don’t have one. As far as you and Kalapana are concerned, I don’t have patience for your misguided efforts to fix something that ain’t broke…and as far as power is concerned…”

  He took his cigarette, and turned it in his fingers so that the butt end was pointed towards Pete’s face. He stretched his arm out, so that the cigarette was centimeters away from Pete’s lips. However, being strapped to the table, Pete was unable to reach it. Van Dien grinned when he saw Pete’s nostrils twitch as if he could smell the cigarette’s sweet aroma. Pete’s lower lips seemed to quiver.

  “You’re still a pack and half a day smoker…am I right, Pete?” Van Dien said as he noticed Pete’s eyes flutter and his head shake just a bit. “I’ve had you strapped to that thing for about a week now, the fluids entering your bloodstream keep you hydrated so you feel no thirst…the fluids provide all your nourishment, so you don’t feel hunger. Every twelve hours a sedative knocks you out, until you wake feeling rested. So really, there is only one thing that you are going to crave right now. Your hands are tied, your feet are bound. I have a pack of cigarettes…and I am smoking one…right in front of you. Isn’t it driving you nuts?”

  Pete felt his mouth involuntarily salivating as his lips started to smack.

  Van Dien said, “I’m going to make you a deal, Pete. Just tell me the truth, tell me that you’re crazy…that your mind is sick with delusions and conspiracy theories, which are simply the result of the jealousy you feel towards those, who you see as being better off than you, because they are more gifted than you, smarter than you…more capable than you. You are a man, who could never become anyone extraordinary by your own meager talents and accord, and you know that all too well…thus the need for the lies and fantasies.”

  “You don’t know me! You don’t have any right to judge me! Look at you, walking around on this world twisting the facts and molding peoples’ perceptions to fit your own needs! I’m not the second hand person in this story!”

  Van Dien narrowed his eyes and said, “I tell you what, Pete…if you admit that these feelings of animosity are the reasons for your rude behavior…I’ll let you come down off your cross. We can go outside and smoke a cigarette together, maybe even have a drink, and afterwards, maybe we could make some peace out of this horrid mess that your crazy friend, Moke Kalapana, has help to create. Tell me, Pete…is this power?”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Pete, come on…let’s be friends. How about you do something for me?”

  “I said go to hell!”

  Van Dien began to look angry. He dropped the cigarette and stomped on it when it hit the floor.

  “Pete, I would like to hear some respect come out of you today. I control your physiology with that machine. I can starve you to death, dehydrate you to the point of no return…or simply cause a whole lot of unpleasant aches and pains for the next couple of months if I so desire.”

  Pete grumbled, “I told you already, I am going to win this round…even if it kills me!”

  “Pete, the only reason why I don’t kill you…is because you are useful to me…sometimes in your delirium…you become a useful liaison between me and your contemptible boss.”

  “Moke is getting closer to you…he’s gonna get you soon enough, pal.”

  “Wrong, Pete.”

  “He almost got Marco Giraudoux and Makula Pilikoa…he almost got High Senators Glik and Semnor on corruption charges…that could have caused problems for you…he’s trying to smoke you out.”

  “He’s got nothing, Pete…you know it, and he knows it.”

  “He knows what’s going on, he busted Glik and Semnor! Moke found out about the racket they had going on with the Spaceport Mechanics’ Union. And I’m sure that he’ll soon find out how a bunch of that money, which was made from that racket, went to you and your secret research!”

  “He knows nothing, Pete…and do you know why?”

  “I ain’t got the slightest idea of what you’re talking about,” Pete said as he began to gasp for air.

  Van Dien became calm, his face expressed arrogant confidence. “Oh I think you do. You see…deep down inside, Kalapana wants to believe that he can make a difference in this world…he wants to believe in your cause…but Kalapana is just like all the others you mentioned, he’s afraid to say it, because he is afraid of what people might think of him. He not a man who has inner peace…he is man who knows that he must gain the acceptance of others in order to exist.”

  “Moke is a good man!” Pete felt his breathing become difficult. His face was dripping with sweat.

  Van Dien said sternly, “don’t you understand how it works, Pete? I use you…to defeat him slowly. Like I said, he wants to believe he can defeat me…but deep down, he knows he can’t. Why? Because I have you to come running to him about things like, the sky is falling, the worms are dying in the farmers’ fields, people are missing and becoming drug addicts, and somehow the Cedar Hills Institute of Technology must be to blame for it all. This has all the trappings of a good, old fashion conspiracy. It’s always in the back of his mind, somewhere. He tries to ignore it, but he can’t.”

  “He’s gonna take you down soon enough!”

  “Pete, you don’t understand the reality of the situation…Moke Kalapana feels the need to follow his heart and satisfy his ego by sticking to his ideals in an attempt to uphold an utter facade of self-respect. This motivates him to find out some things. For instance, he found out about the rackets between some esteemed High Senators and the Mechanics Unions in the Ailanian Space Ports. He uses logic and reason to find out about how smaller space ships are being damaged by the illegal sound and shock waves caused by allowing too many big ships to launch at one time.”

  “You used your whores at the media to sweep the facts under the rug…Independent Ailanian business people were having their spaceships damaged by huge, corporate owned space cruisers and the Unions were allowed to overcharge for repairs because of corporate bribery!”

  Van Dien smiled as he said, “My gods, like anyone had to do the math to prove that. I’d just chalk that one up to Glik and Semnor being sloppy. But why Kalapana does these sorts of things is beyond me…anyone who understands how governments really work, simply looks the other way and profits from it. Why do you think Kalapana is any different…why must you keep insisting that he is any more noble than the rest of the corrupt thugs your people wish to expose?”

  “You killed the economy on purpose! You killed peoples’ dreams! You killed their egos…you killed their ambitions to make this world a better place…and you’re gonna burn in hell for your crimes!” Pete shouted as he started to gag and cough. Pete gasped and collapsed onto the table he was strapped to.

  Van Dien took some time to stare at Pete’s rugged, angry face. Pete had the look of someone who was desperately holding their ground, but still losing it little by little. Van Dien gave Pete a slight smile and said, “You know what, Pete…you are right, I do kill. And I do divide and conquer, but better yet, I unite and rule!”

  Pete gasped and said in a weak voice, “Moke knows exactly what you are trying to do. He knows about your desire to kill the individual…to destroy the ego…to create people whose slavery stems from their need to conform…to create a society that is stuck in space and time because it will never evolve for the better.”

  “Again, Pete,” Van Dien smiled as he said, “enough with the conspiracy theories, let’s st
ick with the facts. Kalapana will never be the hero you need to right this supposed wrong. Think about it, Pete…he could have apprehended a lot of other people, who operate like Glik and Semnor, but the truth is Pete, his actions, aren’t even making a dent in the problem of government corruption this planet faces. Don’t get me wrong, Kalapana would like to catch bigger fish, and slay more dangerous dragons…but ya know what, Pete? He is too scared to all because he lives in a world where he needs to look good in the eyes of others and be accepted by them.”

  Pete gasped for breath as Van Dien lit another cigarette, took a drag and said, “You have the audacity to tell me that that I am trying to create some kind of dystopia. Pete, everyone on Ailana is contributing to the creation of this nightmare you wish to stop…and Kalapana is actually leading the way. He’s not trying to act like an individual at all. Did you ever once notice that Glik and Semnor had fallen out of political favor with his Aunt Ulu? That’s the only reason he succeeded as far as he did. She’s a very powerful figure in the High Senate. He’d never go after her friends, like Wram Karamotzain, now would he? And he knows he couldn’t. Kalapana never gets beyond the achievable victories that I allow him to have. And do you know why? It’s because of you, Pete. It all boils down to what he sees in you, the messenger. He sees the heretic that is in you. If you, Pete…represent what an individual truly is…then he will gratefully drop the banner of the ego and allow the collective villagers to burn the Joan of Arc, and slay the Frankenstein, so that he can remain a hero in the eyes of the mob…a mob…that I control.”