Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1312 Hours.

  Moke switched the dial on his monitor as the aircraft leveled off and began to circle the stadium.

  He changed channels on his com and shouted, “Audrey! Come in Audrey!”

  Her voice crackled through the com, “Sir!”

  Moke shouted back, “What’s going on?! Have you found a bomb in your sector of the stadium?!”

  Audrey said, “Negative sir! The specs The Military gave us say the bomb should contain

  Radiocarbide, and so far all the radiocarbide scans we’ve done have been negative.”

  Moke shouted, “Then get over to the stage as soon as possible! I need your help! I need you to

  find my sister!”

  Moke changed to a different channel and screamed, “JACK!”

  “Sir!” Jack responded immediately.

  Moke shouted, “What have you found in your sector?!”

  Jack replied, “We’ve just done our second scan of the area sir! It’s negative! No radiocarbide is

  present! Thus we can conclude there is no bomb in this area of the stadium!”

  Moke bit his lip for a second, and said, “Jack, abandon that first assignment and go meet Audrey!

  Jack said, “But sir, we have another area to cover!”

  Moke shouted with a plea filled voice, “Please! I need your help here! My sister is in there!”

  “Yes sir.”

  Moke pressed a button on the control panel, and took a call from one of his bomb squad technicians. “Kalapana here…what do you mean it’s clear?”

  “We’re not finding anything, sir.”

  Moke felt a wave of anger wash over him as he yelled at the technician on the ground, “Have you checked quadrant six?

  “No.”

  There was a buzzing in his ear, and Moke yelled, “NO!? Why the hell not?!”

  There was more buzzing as the disgruntled technician spoke. “We can’t…there is too much interference from the P.A. system, and our equipment is not Military grade hardware.”

  Moke became very angry. “What do you mean too much interference from the P.A. system?! Override it! Turn it off! What do you mean? Goddamn it!”

  Moke made a tight fist and clenched his teeth in extreme anger and frustration. He turned to another channel, and began yelling at another technician. “What the hell is going on down there? Turn off the P.A. and get those people the hell out of there?!…What do you mean?!…Turn it off! We don’t need a permit or warrant! This is an emergency action! Just keep doing your job and I will take care of getting in touch with whoever I need to shut down this damned concert and start evacuating these people!”

  “Yes sir!” The technician said.

  Moke felt a sudden burst of adrenaline and an urge to strangle all of his technicians on the ground. He changed his channel to include all signals and screamed at as many ears as he could, “get me that next sweep! Scan for 15 vt radiocarbide! We’ll have that P.A. system shut down and these people out of there soon enough!”

  “Commencing scan, sir! We are commencing a scan on quadrant six.”

  Moke looked out the window and noticed that the crowd seemed to be changing its demeanor. The happy feelings seemed to be fading away, and it appeared that their angst was returning, as more and more people began to see more and more cops.

  Moke bit his bottom lip as his heart raced even faster.

  Location: Mele Entertainment Corporate Headquarters.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1320 Hours.

  “I had no idea what I was getting myself into…this seemed to be such a worthwhile endeavor at the time…”

  Grant tried to keep his face as stoic as he possibly could as he sat at his desk and watched a recording on his monitor. Loko Kalaheva’s face looked worn and tired as he said, “The goal of the Conservative Moralists, who make up the majority of our government, is to regulate people…not corporations. The goal is to protect corporate profits at the expense of our citizens’ rights and liberties. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I agreed to do this…I allowed myself to be used…I was told to create an image…I was told to create a lie. I was told to convince the people of this planet that Capitalism was superior to any other economic alternative. I was told to create an Ailanian culture, where people believed that government regulation was bad because government taxes and regulations strangle the freedom that the common man needs to live a life of austerity and self-fulfillment…all the while, those who I was creating this smokescreen for used it as an opportunity to create a culture where the government helped the rich at the expense of the poor…I’ve created something terrible…”

  Off camera, another voice said in a sinister tone, “Sure you did.”

  Grant involuntarily swallowed his fear as he listed to Loko saying, “Yes, it is true…I am a second hand person…I sold my soul in order to achieve wealth, power, prestige, fame…and fortune. But I lost control of the monster I created. When the Ailanian government created laws meant to ensure business deregulation…I accepted millions of dollars in ‘advertising’ that should have been seen as bribery…and I started lying for them. I saturated our airwaves with the messages and advertisements of huge corporations that essentially destroyed thousands of small Ailanian businesses…hey, why eat traditional Ailanian produce when Zoppy’s chili is so much better for you…and a small portion of the profits go to charity?”

  Grant blinked as he felt himself becoming sick to his stomach again. He cringed as Loko’s voice said, “When the Ailanian housing market crashed…because a lack of government regulations allowed banks to buy and sell toxic assets and basically do whatever they pleased with the Ailanian peoples’ hard earned money, I was the one who convinced the public it was the Immorals who were at fault. It makes it more personal when you realize it was your neighbor’s poor choices caused the recession instead of how your High Senator voted. I provided the politicians and corporate executives with the perfect smokescreen from which they could steal from the Ailanian people. The idea was to keep the average Ailanian from obtaining credit to start a business so that they are forced to work for the pseudo-capitalists just so that the big business interests don’t have any competitors. The idea was to stop innovation because the Ailanian government has developed a tremendous welfare system to keep its people dependent upon them. The idea…was to bring about the end of the world…and I helped them deliver the sheep to the slaughter. Zoppy’s chili was a great idea for charity…but do you know where the money is actually going? It’s going to HIM! It’s going to help him destroy the world! That’s why I did what I did! That’s why I sought out Marco! It’s the reason why I made the deals I made behind his back…I was only trying to help free myself!”

  Grant closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he turned his monitor off.

  “The man was weak,” he heard a deep voice speaking in a heartless tone. “But I have a tremendous amount of faith in your ability to succeed where he failed. I believe in you, Grant.”

  “Oh my gods…what have I done? How did he manage to get one step ahead of me?”

  “This is the way it has to be,” Van Dien said as he exhaled smoke. The luxury office had an air purifier and the noxious cloud was quickly sucked away as he said, “This is the agreement that was made. You got your fame and fortune…and now it is time for what I want from our bargain.”

  Grant simply sat there, looking stubborn, and aloof.

  Van Dien inhaled again, the end of his cigarette burned brightly.

  Grant pressed his fingers together and folded his hands. He tried to make himself forget about his own ulterior motives and tried to concentrate on playing a convincing role as he said, “We simply provided the venue…we can’t be held responsible for the security…his people were supposed to take care of it…that was part of the deal we made.”

  “You won’t
be blamed,” Van Dien said in a reassuring voice.

  Grant tried to wear the face of a loyal corporate partner as he said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  Van Dien smiled and said, “Betrayal is a natural thing, he was warned about the possible hostilities he could face…this has to be done…this plan, has to be able to change…in order to adjust for certain unforeseen, variables.”

  “And Kalapana…has he yet caught onto these, variables that you speak of?”

  Van Dien exhaled another cloud of smoke and said, “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  “I feel as if I have a lot of blood on my hands here,” Grant said defiantly.

  Van Dien adjusted his coat and tie as he got up to leave. “Get used to that feeling, Grant…there is going to be a lot more.”

  Location: Kaiser Field

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1330 Hours.

  The band was now wailing away in a frenzy of notes, chords and drumbeats that seemed to pound themselves straight into all the people in the stadium. Chief Tipsy was now dancing up a storm as he twirled, shook his hips, and stomped his feet. His long, braided hair flopped around while the colorful feathers, which were stuck in his braids, floated up and down as he moved. His big belly jiggled as he danced.

  He raised his microphone up to his lips and began saying, “Ho people!”

  The crowd cheered wildly.

  Tipsy stopped dancing and walked to the front of the stage to greet his ecstatic followers, sweat dripped off his large, brown Balguran face as he said, “My good people of Ailana!”

  The crowd cheered wildly as their larger than life hero stopped to catch his breath.

  He said in a cheery and boisterous voice. “We must remember to love one another! Respect one another! And we gotta remember one more thing ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of Ailana! No matter if you are Ailanian or Human…remember this one thing my people! This beautiful planet we call Ailana… IS YOUR HOME! This is your home! Respect it! Love it! And don’t let anyone take it away from you! We got leaders on this planet who think that we need the planets Earth and Aurora to help us out of this mess! The truth is people! We just need each other, and the respect and love we got for one another! So let’s say it out loud peoples! We gotta be FREE! WE GOTTA BE FREE!!”

  The band struck up a monstrous melody and the crowd cheered ecstatically. Chief Tipsy was about to bring the song up to a crescendo and a grand finale. He raised his fat arm up as high as it would go, and leaned slightly back as he bellowed in a melodic voice, “WE GOTTA BE…”

  Suddenly, and without warning, Chief Tipsy and his band could not be heard. The crowd instantly noticed, and became hushed for about half a second. When the crowd noise returned, it was angry.

  A man in a blue jumper suit ran up to Chief Tipsy and began speaking into his ear. With a look of disbelief on his face, the fat Ailanian man walked to the back of the stage.

  An announcer came on over the P.A. and said. “Uh…sorry folks, but we have to cancel the show because of…uh…power problems…everyone please leave the stadium in an orderly fashion.”

  Someone screamed, “They’re shutting us down! It’s a government plot to shut us down!”

  The man who had just walked onto the stage raised his hand in the air as people began to shout in anger.

  The crowd began chanting in unison, “HELL NO! WE WON’T GO! HELL NO! WE WON’T GO! NO DEAL! DON’T STEAL USAURORA! NO DEAL! DON’T STEAL USAURORA!”

  Location: A maintenance corridor inside Kaiser Field

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1332 Hours

  “HELL NO! WE WON’T GO! HELL NO! WE WON’T GO! NO DEAL! DON’T STEAL USAURORA! NO DEAL! DON’T STEAL USAURORA!”

  The sound of angry Ailanian and human people in the stands above them drowned out the sounds of clashing blades as the two cyborgs twirled around and lunged at each other in a deadly dance of hand to hand combat.

  Wanu blocked the man in black’s attack as he shouted, “you are just like them! It’s all about the money! You don’t care about what you do to get it!”

  Wanu kicked the man in black in the chest and sent him flying across the concrete floor on his back. Then, with his black mane flowing behind him, the young man took to the air. Wanu’s arms were spread like eagle’s wings as his fist blades shimmered. He landed on the man in black and buried his blades into his opponent’s chest.

  The man in black shook his head back and forth violently, as if he had felt genuine pain. The young man shouted, “We have a better plan for our home world! But first we need to get rid of those people who hold your leash! We’re not doing this to simply act like terrorists! We need to do this in order to wake the Prisoners of Paradise!”

  The young man drew his blades out of his fallen opponent’s chest. He stood up tall and proud as he said, “and once the Prisoners of Paradise have awakened…there will be no turning back the tide that will wash this planet clean of the evil corporations and politicians who have infested it for so long!”

  The man in black twitched and shook on the floor to the young man’s delight. However, inside the fallen cyborg’s head, computerized words were flashing across the monitors on the inside of his eyeballs.

  Electronics rerouting…system damage minimal…

  He stared at the young man, who appeared to be drawing back his bladed fist for one final slashing strike. The man in black saw the young man’s fist coming at him and reacted by raising his arms and crossing his blades. He caught the young man’s forearm between his blades and sliced off the incoming fist before his opponent’s weapon could reach his face.

  The young man stood up and screamed in pain as blood flew through the air.

  The man in black jumped to his feet and drew both his pistols.

  “Fuck you!” The young man screamed as he charged with his other blade.

  Two laser bolts flew from the barrels. One blast exploded the young man’s chest as the other separated his legs from his torso.

  Blood was everywhere as the man in black walked over to the young man’s battered torso. He pulled off one of his black gloves so that he could retrieve a wire and a tiny telecommunications port from his finger tip. The man in black inserted the port, from his fingertip, into the base of the young man’s metallic spine.

  Moments later, he was downloading all sorts of information from the young man’s cranial computer. The moments of peace soon passed as the man in black realized that his own cranial com was ringing. The computer in his own brain activated the com so that he was forced to answer it.

  The voice on the other end of the com said, “Now we’re finally getting the data we need to track down and find those other members of The Evil, who provided this young man with the equipment to do his mission…this will soon be like shooting fish in a barrel for you. However, we need to know where they are keeping the merchandise, which they stole from Marco.”

  The man in black felt his breathing increasing as he remembered how the white haired man had said to him, “You are a part of this plan now…you will get me what I want out of those warehouses…you will bring me what I asked you for…”

  The man in black tried not to listen as the voice from the com continued, “We noticed that you allowed the kid to stab you so that you could feign an injury…and now your automatic healing circuits might have been able to bypass the sensors he uses to keep track of you. We know all about how you wish to go rouge again, and we really don’t blame you…that white haired man in the black suit, who’s been telling you what to do, all these years is a complete asshole…and we understand why you don’t want to work with him, we sure as hell don’t either.”

  The man in black felt his eyes narrowing as he contemplated what was just said to him.

  The voice said, “We didn’t make a deal with your boss…it was the bald guy, who you killed at the spaceport, that got himself caught an
d made a deal with your boss…and to be honest, it’s a deal that we have no intention of honoring.”

  The man in black sighed as he said, “I guess I don’t blame you…selfishness is a virtue after all…but do me a favor and get to the point.”

  “We also understand that you don’t mind doing these dirty deeds as long as you get paid enough for it. Consider this…we’ll give you another million if you simply look in that young chap’s pockets for a small arming device to a bomb that might have, accidentally, ended up on Ailana.”

  The man in black instinctively reached into the young man’s pants pocket and took out a small, metallic device with a small monitor screen on it. He held it up to his left eye, so that those who had just made contact with him - via satellite - would be able to see what he was looking at as well.

  The voice in his head said, “I suppose you are asking yourself what the hell is going on right now? Well, we really don’t know either. Apparently, this group, known as The Evil, is a bit more complicated than we first realized. They had a plan that they were going to carry out today, and apparently, there were some interpersonal dynamics within the group, which could have caused this plan to fail. I guess some members of the group wanted the plan to succeed, while some other members decided the plan was too evil and tried to stop it. Ya know how hard it is to satisfy everyone in a group and get them to move in one direction, don’t ya?”

  The man in black blinked rapidly to clear his vision as the voice from the com said, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter to us who wanted what to happen, we just need to make sure the crucial event, that was supposed to happen here today, happens real soon. Do you see how the timer currently reads thirty minutes, we’ll pay you another million dollars if you simply push that red button there, until that timer reads five minutes…that way the chances of those cops finding the bomb, which these assholes planted in the stadium, are greatly diminished. After that, we suggest you run as fast as you can in order to get the hell out of there so that you’ll actually be alive to collect your paycheck!”