The Annihilation of Foreverland

The effort Mr. Smith and I made to bring you here, to offer you freedom from your problems, to give you a nobler life. Do you know what it costs every day we keep you here and watch you deny the healing we offer?”
    He squeezed the cockroach in his palm, crunching inside his closed fist.
    “Do you know how hard we work TO GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?”
    The birds jumped. So did Reed.
    “We’re pioneers, Reed,” he said, softly. “We’re forging into new ground of healing the world. You’re a pioneer, do you understand that?”
    Reed nodded, slowly.
    The Director held his gaze, then offered his hand to the unfed bird. It pushed its beak between the bars and snatched the cockroach out of his palm. The Director flicked the slimy remains on the bottom of the cage and walked away wiping his hands with a paper towel.
    The Director went to another telescope at the perimeter of the room, this one aimed over the Mansion. The floor had rotated. Reed was looking at the dorm and the Yard beyond.
    “You have a shot at a second life, but I can’t make you take it. All I can do is offer you healing. No one can make you go lucid, you have to want it. Don’t you see, that’s why we make you uncomfortable before it’s offered? Your mind detaches from the body when it’s in pain, yet you continue to stay. You won’t take what I offer, Reed. And I can’t understand that.”
    The Director spent a few minutes focusing on a new target. He stood up, hands on his hips. Staring out, pensive. Struggling with a thought. A decision. “Five more rounds, Reed.” The Director looked at Reed over the couches and tables and space in between. “I’m giving you an opportunity to help me help you. This is your last chance to take my outstretched hand. I can’t help the unwilling, son. You understand?”
    The Director smiled, eyes squinting.
    “If you don’t, then I’ve failed you, son. And I’m sorry for that.”
    The Director went back to the telescope. The birds licked their beaks. Reed looked at the Yard below, wiping his slick forehead where the needle hole had long since healed.

6
    Danny remembered going to summer camp… or something like that. The more he thought about it, maybe it was just camping. They went fishing. It seemed like a really fun time in his life.
    The island was even better.
    No one assaulted him in his sleep. No one dumped him in a trash can or even so much as gave him a wedgie. It was ten days of non-stop fun.
    It started in the game room which turned out to be a game building . Flat screen monitors were positioned around the perimeter showing on-going games or flashing team standings of various competitions. Most of them were small capsules where campers could experience three-dimensional action while some were simple screen games for one or two people.
    On the first day, Sid led them through the crowd. There were about twenty-five people – all boys, no old men – watching or playing. They made their way to center stage: a twenty-foot wide circular platform enclosed by a clear dome. Inside was a small scale layout of a war-torn city with smoldered buildings and overturned cars. Digital troops strategically stalked the cityscape and miniature helicopters rained bullets and missiles into clouds of smoke and fire.
    There was a group on each side that controlled the tiny figures and with each explosion and each death, numbers changed on the four-side scoreboard hanging from the ceiling. Names repositioned in the standings. An hour later, one team stood victorious.
    Zin smacked Danny in the chest. “We’re up.”
    The taunting started when they stepped onto the small stage vacated by the losers, a group of Middle Eastern boys in their early teens. Danny saw the other team on the opposite side of the dome – they were Russian, maybe – pulling on black gloves. Sid was trading insults with the crowd, pointing at the scoreboard and thumping his chest. Zin gave Danny a pair of gloves and knee pads.
    “No time for instruction. You’ll figure it out.”
    The gloves slid on like silk embedded with fine wire mesh. The knee pads strapped on without anything special. Sid passed out yellow-tinted goggles with embedded earbuds and miniature microphones. Danny was still playing with the goggles when he was assigned to a tower and told to keep his head down.
    “Watch and learn.” That was the only time Sid addressed Danny. “And try not to get killed, poke.”
    The game started.
    Instead of watching the action