The Annihilation of Foreverland (26 page)

“I see.” The Director didn’t want to leave the edge of the balcony, took his time doing so. He returned to the chair that was on trial and sat this time. Mr. Smith was sitting on the far left side of the semi-circle, arms crossed and tight-lipped.

“Gentlemen,” the Director said, loudly and slowly, “you bought these boys. You arranged for them to be delivered to the island. You’re not barbarians? What is it do you think we’re doing to them that is not barbaric?”

“We agreed to discomfort, not torture.”

“We have to make adjustments for abnormality. Mr. Smith has invested as much as the rest of you, I believe he has every right to collect on that investment. As would the rest of you.”

“The boy is in agony.”

“He won’t be for long.”

“You’re not being honest, Director. These are more than minor incidents.”

“Every science has its wrinkles, Mr. Black. We have to adjust. I assure you, the program is well. We are analyzing the current state of these abnormalities and will act accordingly.”

Quiet settled, interrupted by the hiss of an oxygen tank.

“Now, if we’re finished—”

“We want to suspend Daniel Forrester, Reed Johnston, and Eric Zinder,” Mr. Black stated.

Mr. Smith stood up. “That was not what we discussed!”

In-fighting broke out.

The Director sat back, twirling the curly whiskers on his chin. Let them tear each other apart. They had no alternative, they knew it. They were all accustomed to having control and that rarely made for good teamwork. Especially when you add the desperation of impending death. They were all dying and that would tend to make anyone impatient, especially power-hungry old men.

THUD!

The front door cracked loud enough that almost all of them heard it on the veranda. The Director turned to listen while the argument began to lose steam. When the second one hit—

THUD!

—he was the first one to the door. He opened it, saw the fist-sized dents about eye level. Carefully, he looked outside.

Danny was halfway to the Mansion when he picked up the first rock. He didn’t know why, but then he picked up another. He held the bottom of his shirt and cradled them like a hammock.

He launched the first one as he arrived at the bottom step. A direct hit, head-high. It went bang off the metal door like a gunshot. The stone skipped down the steps. He grabbed another one from his stash, yearning to hear that satisfaction again. He reached back—
Felt it ripped from his hand.

“What the hell you doing?” Zin tossed the rock into the trees. “You want to get killed?”

“They’re already doing that, Zin.”

Zin knocked his hand off his shirt and the cache of stones crashed on the bottom step. He grabbed Danny by the shirt. “Come on, before someone comes out.”

He let Zin drag him a couple steps and pulled. “No.”

The second rock sunk a dent as deep as the first and not more than six inches to the left. He was reaching for a third when Zin knocked him down.

“I’m not letting you commit suicide.”

Zin was on his knees, chucking the rocks into the underbrush. They were going to get caught, but two rocks looked a lot different if there wasn’t ten more waiting to be fired. He had just enough time to grab the two that rebounded off the door. The last one rolled out of sight just as the door opened.

The Director appeared in the doorway, wearing some kind of desert scouting outfit. His left hand rested on the hilt of a small sword. A fat old man pushed past him, followed by more.

“JUST KILL HIM!” Danny screamed. “He’s not going to take the needle, so just go ahead and kill him, already! Put us all out of misery!”

Danny started up the steps. Zin caught him on the third one. He wasn’t going to slip away again.

“I know what you’re doing to us,” Danny shouted. “You’re a bunch of fat, selfish bastards!”

“What are you doing?” Zin hissed in his ear.

“If you don’t want to just kill us, I will! I’ll throw all of the boys over the cliffs.” Danny jabbed at them. “We’re all going over, anyway. We’ll do it on our own!”

“DANNY BOY!” Mr. Jones stumbled down the steps. “Stop this foolishness, right this second. What has gotten into you?”

Another ten Investors were out the door, exchanging knowing glances. The Director’s steely gaze never wavered.

“I’ll tell you what got into me, go see Reed. Mr. Smith knows, he’s doing it to him. He’s breaking him. He doesn’t want to take the needle, all right? Are you so desperate that you’re going to kill him slowly for it?”

“He’s just trying to help him, Danny Boy.” Mr. Jones helped Zin restrain him. “You don’t understand what’s happening, you must trust us.”

“Trust you?” Danny turned on Mr. Jones.
Constantino
was on the tip of his tongue.
Acquired,
too. He was about to spit them like darts. Had he, it would’ve changed everything. The Investors would’ve known their privacy had been breached. They would’ve condemned the Director without question. The program would have failed. Nobody would escape, ever.

But the Director’s hand gently fell on Danny’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, son,” he said.

Danny stopped struggling. Everyone said
son.
But the Director said it differently. It wasn’t an expression, it meant something. And it fell quietly on Danny.

“Mr. Jones.” The Director turned to him. “Let me have a word with Danny Boy.”

All three of them – Zin, Mr. Jones and the Director – kept their hands on him, slowly letting go. Danny stared at the Director. He wanted to hate him, but there was calm in his expression.

“Gentlemen.” The Director turned to the crowd inside the doorway. “We will proceed as usual. Remember why we’ve come together.”

He turned to Danny.

“We’re here to help,” he said to the others. “Let’s remember that.”

No one moved.

The program teetered on that moment.

And then the Director led Danny away from the Mansion.

A man doesn’t achieve that level of power without know
ing
how to handle pressure.

It was a narrow path. An overgrown one.

Danny trampled on leaves and fronds sheared cleanly by the Director’s blade. The Director didn’t turn around when Danny caught up to him. He was grabbing with the left hand and swinging the machete with the right. The jungle bent to his will as they made their way through it.

Sweat drenched the back of his shirt. Danny could hear his breathing between each swing. When they reach a small clearing where a tree had uprooted – its roots bare and dead. The Director wiped his head with a handkerchief and leaned against the massive trunk.

“Whew!” he said. “This trail hasn’t been used in awhile, wouldn’t you say, Danny Boy?”

Danny kept a healthy ten feet between them.

“It reminds me of the time I first discovered this place. Nothing but tre
es in this part of the island, n
ature taking back what mankind put in its way. Can you believe that was 30 years ago?” The Director looked up, shaking his head. “Goes by in a flash, Danny Boy. Cherish that youth, my boy, while you can. One day you’re going to be fat and out of shape like me, son.”

The Director pulled a drink from the canteen on his hip. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and offered it to Danny. He didn’t even bother shaking his head. He just stared.

The Director screwed the lid back in place and smacked his lips.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Thirty years ago, this was a dying resort for the super wealthy when I got here. I was going to resurrect it, turn it into an extreme vacation island resort with hiking and meditation and snorkeling. Maybe import some animals so it had a real jungle feel.” He slowly moved his hand as if reading a banner. “Discover Your Inner Tarzan.”

He laughed.

“Wouldn’t have worked, Danny Boy. Stupid idea. The rich don’t want anything to do with Tarzan and that’s when I heard a higher calling. That’s when I decided to help the world, to heal it one person at a time. This is a revolutionary program, Danny Boy. We’re on the verge of taking mankind to another level in its evolution…”

He stared at Danny.

“But you’ve heard the pitch, I’m sure. I don’t need to tell you. Right?”

The Director wiped his whole face, again, tucked the handkerchief in the upper pocket of his shirt. He leaned back and waited.

“That’s hard to believe,” Danny finally said, “after what you’ve done to Reed.”

“I see.” The Director nodded, thinking.

Danny clearly didn’t understand what was going on. He was a kid. He needed an adult to explain the world to him.

“The brain operates like a computer, wouldn’t you say?” the Director said. “It’s got connections and information that form concepts and ideas. And computers are susceptible to corruption, like malicious code. Something that will disrupt its ability to operate normally.”

“I’ve never fixed a computer with torture, Director.”

“No, but you have reformatted one. Am I right? Of course, I am. You are a computer genius, there’s no denying that, Danny Boy. You know that when an operating system is corrupt, sometimes it needs to be erased and reprogrammed from the beginning. It needs to relearn the right way to operate.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“You don’t know that, Danny Boy. You can’t change and stay the same. In order to heal, you have to be willing to let go of the past. Be willing to let go of the programming that corrupted your soul to begin with. All you boys have a chance to be new again.”

“Reed’s almost crippled. He’s broken. You’re destroying him.”

“Some are more damaged than others. I can only offer him salvation, Danny Boy. Only offer the healing, he has to take it.”

“So you torture him?”

“It sometimes takes a strong hand to get people to let go of their past. People aren’t willing to give up what tortures him. Every time Reed goes to the Haystack, he has the power to heal himself but refuses. I can’t make him, I can only encourage him. He’s got to trust what I’m doing for him, you see. Trust, Danny Boy.”

“I don’t trust you, Director. I don’t know you.”

“How do you know?” He raised his eyebrows, questioningly. “I could be the father you need to forget.”

“No one on this island trusts.” Danny tapped the back of his neck. “That’s why everyone has a tracker, just in case. Including you.”

“We’re dealing with the human condition here, Danny Boy. Corruption, sin. People cheat if given the opportunity. These little things in the neck take that away. Makes everyone feel a little better. Good thing Sid had one, wouldn’t you say?”

The Director smiled.

They walked for a long time, in silence. Their path was serpentine. The Director seemed to go out of his way to cut giant leaves when he could’ve just ducked under them. Eventually, the trees began to thin out. The soil turned to stone. A breeze howled down the path, rustling the leaves above them.

They stepped onto the barren ledge of a cliff. The ground was gray with granite and green with lichens growing in the cracks like whiskers and fuzz. It was the highest Danny had ever been on the island. None of the paths led to this spot. He figured if they continued to the right, they would eventually descend until they reached the beach on the north end.

The horizon was flat in both directions. The water deep, dark and blue. The Director wedged his hands on his hips and closed his eyes. He inhaled the ocean’s scent.

“Don’t you wish you
could
just be that, Danny Boy?”

He inhaled, again.

“The ocean, my boy. The smell, the sight… the life it contains. All of it, don’t you want to be that?”

“How would I know?”

“What do you want, Danny Boy? If you could have anything in the world, what would you ask for?”

“I’d start with knowing who I am, but you took that away.”

“I didn’t take anything away, you didn’t have it.”

“Only I would know that.”

The Director stepped closer to the edge. A half-step forward and he’d go a hundred feet to the bottom. He walked along the edge to a boulder that jutted up from the ground – flat like a table.

“This is where I had the epiphany, Danny Boy. I would come up here to sit every morning and this is where I received the calling. I knew what mankind needed. We needed to harness the power of the mind, the most powerful weapon a man possesses. If we can control the mind, Danny Boy, we get what we want. That’s your answer, son. If you could have anything in the world, it should be the power of the mind.”

The mind is a weapon.

“How can you torture us and call that healing?”

“Your body is a prison, my boy. You need to understand that through experiencing its misery. The Haystack is the best teacher you’ll ever have. It forces you to face the body’s desire, and the suffering that results. You take the needle, you see the freedom of the mind. That’s all we’re doing, son. Setting you free.”