Prisoners of Paradise

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Prisoners of Paradise Page 72

by Brandon Lars Erikson


  “I sure hope so.”

  “Goddamn it! I’m serious!”

  Bloke looked at him with a calm face and smiled. “I was able to make about five liters of that ‘crew stew’, plus we have lots of dinner rolls along with canned beans and vegetables Oh yeah, I packed you some tofu sandwiches. Just as long as this ship doesn’t run out of fuel…we’ll be fine.”

  “Man…it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to enjoy some good old fashion Ailanian worm casserole. I can’t wait to get back there,” Jhett licked his lips and started the ship’s engines.

  Bloke’s face seemed to light up as he enthusiastically said, “can we go get some Zoppy’s chili when we get there?”

  Jhett sat in silence for a few seconds as he contemplated slapping his comrade. He then decided against using violence and simply reached for compromise as he said, “Sure…sounds good.”

  After letting the little shuttle warm up for about ten minutes, Jhett pulled back on the throttle. The small shuttle lifted into the air and glided across the floor of cargo bay. It was soon engulfed by the blackness of space.

  “Were did you put those explosive charges?” Jhett asked.

  “By the anaxium recirculation system,” Bloke replied. “Right next to the largest storage tank.”

  Jhett realized that he and Bloke had been about halfway through a demolitions course when they had both decided to defect from The Military.

  “I’m sure that will work,” Jhett said as he dialed a few buttons on the ship’s console com. There were a couple of buzzing sounds and Jhett said aloud, “Bronson, Herb…this is my way of saying thank you…but your services…are no longer required. Don’t get me wrong…we think you’re great guys and we admit, we couldn’t have gotten the work without you. But in the end…keeping you on the payroll means less money for us…and that, my friends, is simply the kind of enlightened thinking that creates good Capitalists…and only allows the strong to survive. Goodbye gentlemen…it was nice knowing ya.”

  There were cries of anguish from the com as Bloke pushed the button on the detonator. The yellow-blue explosion started at the rear of the ship and crept its way toward the front, ripping the hull apart and spreading metallic debris everywhere.

  Jhett smiled as he watched the explosion dissipate, leaving nothing but empty space behind.

  Location: Moke’s House.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0500 Hours.

  “Have you lived your life with the sole intent of impressing others?”

  In the dream, Moke remembered the smell of wood, and the taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered the tears falling down his young face as he sat in front of the large desk and watched as a very large Kupano man lit up a big cigar and smiled at him.

  He recalled how the large man said, “Looks like my boys beat you up pretty bad, Moke Kalapana. What did you do to piss em’ off?”

  Moke remembered trying not to sob as he said, “I guess they don’t like me because I’m a Royal.”

  “You’re a Royal?” The large man said as he puffed on the cigar. “Who’s side?”

  “My father was Mo’okuli Kalapana…”

  “General Kalapana? The guy who took all those Kupano soldiers to Farcry and got em’ killed?”

  Moke only remembered how he put his head down and started sobbing again.

  The large man said, “Son…ya gotta stop crying now…it’s time for you to become angry…”

  “Are you the school principle?”

  Moke remembered how the man chuckled and said, “The principle? Naw, I ain’t the principle. You could say that I am the…head master…and I make the rules around here. Them boys that beat ya up…why are they so bashed and bruised? What did you do to them?”

  “I didn’t do anything to them…it was Iki who beat them all up…he was defending me.”

  “Iki?” The large man asked, “Ya mean the blonde haired, human kid did all that to them boys who was kicking the tar and feathers out of you? That human boy is one tough cookie…how do you know him?”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Oh, he’s your best friend, huh? Well, Moke…if you got a best friend like him…you ain’t got much to worry about…that is until your best friend ain’t around no more. It looks to me like you better learn how to stand up for yourself. Ya can’t go letting these other boys around here make you look like some kind of chump. Didn’t your daddy teach you how to fight?”

  “He did, sir…but he couldn’t teach me much because he was gone so much.”

  The large man said, “Well…how about if I teach you how to fight. Even better yet…how about if I teach you how to become mean…so mean in fact, that no one will ever mess with you again. Would ya like that? You Royals get told what to do a lot…your whole life is dedicated to service, to your Royal duty. Your father did his Royal duty…and look where it got him. Doesn’t that make you mad?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Oh I bet it does…I bet it makes you so mad, that you would like to go and punch someone…and that’s why them boys of mine went and started kicking your little, Royal ass. Tell me the truth, son… it was you who went and picked a fight with em’ because you’re…so angry.”

  Moke remembered how he felt a chill going down his spine as he clenched his angry fists.

  The large man said, “Well, how about if I give you a reason to be angry…and how about if I give you someone to punch? I could use a strong boy like yourself…and I know I could use your friend. You boys could help me out…I got a job for you, son. How about if you do something for me? How about you do something for me, that might just make you feel better about yourself?”

  In the dream, Moke remembered the skinny man, who was tied to the chair. He could see how the large man with the cigar was walking slowly around the room as Moke felt the anger inside of him growing.

  Moke remembered how the large man with the cigar was saying, “Ya see, boys…this is a man who says that you need to be patient and just wait for what is coming to ya. Now he owes me money…and some of that money he owes me…I’d love to be able to give it to you since I like you both so much. I tell you what…why don’t you both take turns hitting this guy in the face for me…and when he feels like telling me where I can find my money, you can stop hitting him. That is, if you really want to.”

  Moke remembered how he felt his hands curling into tight, destructive fists. He remembered the rage he felt as he punched the terrified man over and over again. He remembered how he cried out in rage as the man tied to the chair cried out for mercy. He recalled how the blood looked on the floor. He remembered how the man, who was mercilessly bound to the chair, begged him to stop.

  He then remembered how the moon looked on the beach that night, and how the words felt sticky in his mouth as he said, “Iki…do we have to do this?”

  “Yes we do.”

  Moke gasped and sat up in bed as the sound of gunshots woke him from his dream.

  He starting panting with fear as he thought to himself, “Oh my gods…what have I done? What did we do? I’m so sorry, Iki…I am so sorry for what happened to you…and I am so sorry…for what I am going to have to do now so that no one ever finds out what we did all those years ago! I’ve got secrets that I need to keep…secrets that could destroy me if the wrong people found out about them…and I can’t let anyone find a way to convince you to tell them what you know. What I need to do won’t be easy on either of us, my friend…but if I don’t go through with this plan of mine…the results could be disastrous. Oh gods, please forgive me…I didn’t know my sins would lead to this!”

  Location: Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0600 Hours.

  “So tell me more about this plan of yours, Kenny,” Charlie said as they slowly drove away from the scene of their latest online bank robbery. Kenny had transferred some unsuspecting pseudo-ca
pitalist’s savings account into a branch account that he would be able to easily launder for Awa and his gang.

  “I haven’t worked out all the details yet…but I can tell you that it involves art,” Kenny said as he thought about how nice it would be to sleep all day long after three hard nights of work.

  “Art?” Charlie said as he tried not to yawn. “How is art going to help you spring your wife and kid from that Moralist prison?”

  “Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten that far yet…but trust me, Charlie…if you stick with me…and help me out…I will make it worth your while. I promise.”

  “Hell yeah, you can count me in,” Charlie said as he bit his lip and thought. “I better start working another angle with this guy…we need to locate some Cutz producers real soon. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this little act up.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Location: The Alawe’o Space Sport…The Township of Analua….Ailana.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 0600 Hours.

  “I’ve always hated this part,” Harris thought as he closed his eyes and tried to keep his mind from becoming over-stimulated. “Standing in the tube…waiting. It just gives you too much time to think.”

  The cylindrical, white walls around him seemed to be shrinking as the long bars of light rotated past his feet and over his head. Harris took a quick breath as he saw how the lights were about to rotate past his feet again. He became lost in thought, “I should have told her how I really felt, and how she made me feel better…even if it was just for a little while. I should have told her everything…but she probably would not have wanted anything to do with me if she had discovered the truth about who I really am…and all the terrible things I have done. But who am I kidding? She couldn’t help me…nothing can help me…it’s all just so hopeless.”

  Harris was standing in a cylinder-shaped corridor that served as a temporary quarantine zone between the space cruiser’s shuttle and the spaceport. The corridor’s paneling was white and Harris was wearing his blue, full-dress Allied Military uniform with an impressive hat, which was wide, but short-brimmed. The brief period of quarantine allowed his mind to wander again. He remembered the last conversation he had with Jori before they parted. He remembered how he desperately wanted to tell her exactly what was on his mind. He bit his lower lip as he thought about how he ended up getting cold feet, and started talking about something else in order to avoid facing his demons.

  “I guess there comes a time in every man’s life when he asks himself, ‘how did I get here?’”

  Harris held his breath as he realized that how he simply could not tell her what was really on his mind. He bit the inside of his cheek as he remembered how he had decided to go into detail about something else. Instead of bearing his soul, and telling her the truth, he told her a tale of what it takes to be a hero. Instead of telling her about his true feelings for her, and how his past was more complicated than she could ever imagine, he told her all kinds of things about how an ordinary man could be made into a modern, robotic knight in shining armor.

  He realized that he had said those things, simply because he had been hoping she would keep listening to him, for just a bit longer, before they would have to part ways after the spaceship docked. He closed his eyes with shame as he realized he had only told her those things, because he knew the feelings of bliss, which had had experienced with her over the past few weeks, would disappear once they both stepped into their respective quarantine tubes.

  “The tubes…they are places for goodbyes that might be permanent. When I’m in one of those tubes, I ask myself…’how did I get here?’”

  He sighed as his thoughts became turbulent while the air around him became still. “How did I get here? It’s such a simple statement…and over the years, I’ve found myself with a lot of time to think of an answer. ’How did I get here?’ That’s what I thought when they took me into the tactical room, for the very first time, and started outfitting me with the combat suit that I wore my very first mission…and every mission I’ve ever been involved with since…always started with that one contemplative thought…”

  At the time, Jori seemed interested in what he had to say. He closed his eyes and sighed while he remembered how her voice was soft when she said, “you must be very brave. How do they put the suit on you?”

  He was almost reluctant to tell her, since he was still struggling with severe memories and emotions. He remembered how he had nervously wet his lips before he said, “We call em’ Black Out Suits…and they are a bitch to put on. First, they dress you in a tight, thick nylon body stocking that’s got microwires and computer chips in it. The computer chips actually dig themselves into your skin, and attach to your nerves somehow. Then, they strap you to a large, metal frame, so they can install you into the hardware. They assemble the armor and componentry around you, piece by piece, as you stand spread eagle in that frame with your arms held out straight from your body, like that guy…in the da Vinci drawing.”

  “That sounds so scary…tell me more.”

  “It takes about six technicians and two robots a couple of hours to put everything in place. The armored pants they construct act as mechanical legs, which help you run faster and jump farther. The pneumatics and hydraulics attached to your legs are strong enough to let you kick through a brick wall. The boots have repulsor lifts built into them that allow you to jump clear across canyons, or from the roof of a tall building, to the street far below, and back to another rooftop. They give you a utility belt that holsters all the weapons they think you’re gonna need. They give you a powerful rifle that can shoot laser bolts and small missiles. They give you a couple of pistols and knives, a few grenades and other useful things before they strap a bomb to your back. Finally, they fine tune the weapons in the suit itself, they make sure your electronic helmet displays and communications work correctly. When you’re all dressed and ready to go, they send you on your way…to kill alien enemies and blow up things.”

  She said, “You must have done some incredibly brave things.”

  “I wish I could say that was completely true…”

  His head bowed in shame as he recalled how had he quit talking, and briefly thought about what he really wanted to say to her, “I hate myself so much for what I’ve done…I’m not the man I wanted to be…”

  Despite the deep feelings of self-loathing, he briefly cracked a brief small smile as he fondly remembered the look of love and devotion that had been on her face during that final conversation. It was at that moment, he realized how the sight of her smile was too good to ruin with the conversation he wanted to have. He recalled how her smile made him want to bottle up his feelings again. He remembered how he purposely changed the topic as he sheepishly said, “Well, Jori…you enjoy all that digging in the dirt that you are gonna do…I enjoyed our time together…I…I…”

  “I’m going to miss you, Ronald James Harris…”

  He felt tears welling up in his eyes. His heart filled with regret as he remembered how he had decided to explain the complexities of military technology and battle strategy instead of telling her what he wanted to say, and how he really felt. He shook his head slowly back and forth as he thought about how he just couldn’t bring himself to say what was on his mine, because wanted the last time he ever saw her, to be a time when she was smiling.

  “Like it would have helped anyway…”

  At that moment, while standing in the tube, Harris realized that the good times he had enjoyed with his new friend were over and his depression was beginning to come back with a vengeance. Spending time with Jori had been a pleasant distraction, but all the painful memories and guilt, which created these feelings of self-loathing, just would not go away.

  He felt himself shaking with a strange emotion that was a combination of fear and guilt as he thought, “Goddamn it! Nothing seems to stop this mental anguish! Not the therapy, not my wife, and definitely
not that fucking medicine…”

  His mind began to fixate upon the one thing he could do to make the pain stop.

  “Just keep it all locked up inside for now, soldier…no one wants to hear the truth about who you really are…or what you’ve really done. She wouldn’t be able to help anyway…she wouldn’t even want to know you if she knew the truth. Living a lie can be for the best thing for a healthy relationship…and it’s best she never knows the truth. It would be better if no one ever knew. Hopefully, pretty soon…none of it will matter anymore anyway…”

  Harris began breathing harder. He felt as if he had left his body momentarily while he remembered the feeling of the tight straps on his wrists and ankles. In his mind, he felt his body convulsing as robotic arms and people, who were wearing goggles and masks, used power tools and computer software to configure the armored plates, mechanical parts and electronic components to his body. With each piece came the shriek of a power tool and another jolt of electricity as the suit was fused to him. He remembered how the pain was unbearable at times.

  He remembered Jori’s pale blue eyes and thought about what he purposely didn’t tell her.

  “They teach you to ignore the pain…they teach you to love it. It’s weird. As their doing it, you watch your bare skin disappear…and when they’re done with all the body armor and have finally put on your helmet and wired up all the electronics…ya don’t look and feel like yourself anymore. You’re six centimeters taller and two hundred kilos heavier…you look like a giant, mechanical insect or something beastly…you look evil. You look like the grim reaper himself, all dressed in black, the faceplate actually resembles a skull. You don’t see things with your eyes anymore because it all becomes a pale shade of electronic grey. Instead of seeing the world through your own eyes, you have a computer monitor in your face constantly telling you all sorts of data…altitude, temperature, directions to the target…it sends you warning signals…words and numbers…lots and lots of words and numbers end up on that screen in the front of your face.”

 

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