The Annihilation of Foreverland

for such freedom, for the unadulterated alternate reality, they might not exactly drop to their knees in thanks.
    Evolution works that way. The weak feed the strong.
    The boys continued to exit the trees, crossing the Yard toward their warm beds. They’d stop for some food but then they’d sleep the night away. The Director kept his telescope focused on the trees until he came out. The kid stopped, shaded his eyes and glanced in the direction of the Director.
    Danny Boy.
    He was filled with the urge to mix a drink.
    The Director questioned that acquisition, the young little redheaded hacker. He wasn’t the typical candidate for his program. He was too smart. Too skilled. He needed kids that were physically fit. Not necessarily retarded, but he didn’t need a genius, either. Just an ordinary kid that would follow the pack.
    But that Mr. Jones persuaded him it was the right choice. Said the kid had enhanced brain activity that would open new avenues in the program. The Director knew Jones was only in it for himself, but he made sense.
    The Director was reluctant because the program was delicate. There were so many unknown factors that a risk was dangerous. But if he didn’t push into the unknown, the program would stagnate. In fact, if the problem – the problem – hadn’t already started, he would’ve told Jones to go slam his head in the sand. But he needed some solutions, and, damnit, Jones made sense.
    Reed created the problem. The Director needed to keep him around to solve it . So far, that wasn’t working. He couldn’t make Reed take the needle. It just wouldn’t work if he didn’t want it, if he wasn’t open to it. If the Director punched it through his skull against his will, it would do more harm than good.
    Danny Boy, though, could be the key. He’d already reached out to Reed on the beach. The Director knew it had something to do with the girl that confronted him in the first round.
    She is the problem.
    She was still hiding in the Nowhere. She was careful, sent the kid a clue. The Director didn’t know what she had in mind, but he would keep following. And like all his enemies, she would be destroyed in the end. He rubbed the small hole in his forehead. After all, she couldn’t escape. He knew where she was, he just couldn’t reach her.
    “Director?” the intercom squawked.
    “Yes,” he answered.
    “We’re ready.”
    The Director watched Danny cross the Yard. He was too sleepy, too damn cold, to do anything else. He’d go to his room and sleep off the experience for the next day. That would give the Director some time to figure out something for the next round.
    He decided he’d mix that drink after all. Tomato juice and vodka mixed over three ice cubes. The Director stirred it with a stalk of celery. He took a swig, hit it with a dash of pepper. He crossed to the other side and stood over another telescope, this one pointed over Geezer Mansion . He munched the celery and looked at the water beyond.
    He focused on the horizon. There was nothing but the sharp edge where water met the sky. He often imagined he could see land beyond it. But that was too far for a telescope. He hadn’t seen it in many years.
    “Director?” The voice was impatient. “We would like to begin—”
    “Don’t interrupt, Mr. Jackson.”
    The intercom remained silent.
    The Director finished his drink. When he was good and ready, he went to the elevator to assume his position as Director of a revolutionary program.
    The world would remember him long after they forgot Jesus.

21
    Parker lay on a bed. Mouth open. His lips were dry and cracked; his hair springing out in all directions.
    A needle in his forehead.
    A bald old man pulled aside a curtain that divided the room in half. “We’re clear, Director.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Jackson.”
    The Director stood at the foot of the bed. The room was hospitable with soothing blue walls and the white curtain. There was a large glass window with half a dozen old men staring at them. At one time, the Investors stood in the room with the Director. Now, they were sequestered in the sound-proof booth. The Director needed peace and quiet when he worked his magic.
    The Director would’ve banished them altogether, but these old men funded the project. The Director had proven to be a smart man in science and politics, so he let them watch. They didn’t like it, but they were smart men, as well. They eventually stopped complaining and the Director eventually forgot