The Rule of Thoughts

by James Dashner

  He needed to talk to her. Desperately. Right before getting off the bus, he’d messaged Gabby, telling her to message him the second she could meet. Meanwhile, Michael and his friends meandered through the city.

  They were just passing the windows of a small coffee shop when someone banged on the glass from inside, startling Michael so much that he jumped away from it, stumbling. He caught himself before he fell to the cement. Looking back, he saw a teenage girl gazing through the window, her eyes glued to Michael.

  Spotted, he thought miserably. Someone was bound to recognize them from the NewsBops. Or was she like the couple at the diner? There was something about her eyes.…

  “You friends with that chick?” Bryson asked.

  Michael shook his head, panic rising in his chest. “Let’s keep moving.”

  But even as he said it the girl had swept away from the window and come charging out the door of the coffee shop. Michael braced himself, knowing he should run but wanting the truth. Were there others out there like him?

  “Whoa, hold tight,” Bryson said to the girl as she walked right up to Michael. Bryson stood in front of her with hands held out, like a cop ordering someone to step away from the scene of a crime. “Back off.”

  Sarah had come to Michael’s side, her hand gripping his arm. She leaned closer to whisper to him. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Don’t even talk to her.”

  But he was mesmerized. The girl was odd-looking, with long blond hair framing a strange, elven face with dark eyes. She looked … distant, like the couple in the diner. She was peeking over Bryson’s shoulder, smiling at Michael, and he found himself unable to move.

  “But I just … I wanted to say hi,” she said, her gaze never leaving Michael. “My name is Carol. I just want to say hi to the First.”

  Bryson turned around, an expression of total confusion transforming his face. “Dude, do you know this girl or not?” Michael shook his head slightly, still tingling with fear but feeling like he had an opportunity to learn something. There had to be a connection between this Carol person and the man and woman who’d stared at him before. He had to know what it was. It could be as simple as their recognizing his face from the NewsBops, but he meant to find out.

  “Let her talk,” he said quietly. “Maybe she can tell us something.”

  Bryson gave him a questioning look and shook his head. Sarah squeezed his arm even tighter, until it hurt. But Michael ignored them, addressing the stranger.

  “Who are you?” he asked her. “How do you know who I am?”

  She smiled again—had never really stopped. “I … He showed you to us. He …” She paused, flicking her eyes toward Bryson and Sarah as if she wanted to say something they shouldn’t hear. “I saw you walk by and I knew. The First. That’s what he calls you.”

  Michael swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew who she was talking about, but needed to hear her say it. “Who?”

  “Kaine, of course! Isn’t it all so … exciting?”

  She giggled—a little-girl, straight-from-the-playground giggle. But her happiness made Michael’s stomach turn. Sarah had let go of his arm; she was swaying as if she might faint.

  “Remember my name,” the girl said. “It’s Carol. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon. The world’s changing, you know. Thanks to Kaine. Thanks to you.” She gave a little squeal of delight, then turned and ran off down the street, dodging people as she disappeared.

  Michael stared after her, speechless. The sun had finally come up, but the world felt darker.

  Michael turned to Sarah, placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Look at me,” he said. “Is it really that obvious? That I’m a Tangent?”

  Sarah’s face fell with pity, as if she were visiting an old relative at a nursing home, watching someone she loved sink into dementia.

  “No,” she answered. “You heard what she said. Kaine showed you to them.”

  Michael shook her, more fiercely than he meant to. “What’s wrong with me? Why did he choose me?”

  A tear welled up in her eye. “You’re hurting me, Michael. Just stop and breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Yeah,” Bryson added. “Chill, man. Let her go.”

  Michael did, his hands dropping to his sides. Bryson’s words made him angry—mostly because he knew his friend was right. And a dreadful, weighing sorrow made him want to sit down and cry. So many emotions at once. His mind didn’t know how to handle this. He was a freak. Nothing more than an experiment. A computer program shoved into a human body. A murderer. And then this creepy girl had to come by and make him some kind of hero for the other Tangents. The First. He wanted to puke.

  “Michael,” Sarah said softly.

  He had closed his eyes without realizing it. He was leaning against a building, though he didn’t remember moving. He rubbed his face, then looked around, expecting to find Carol or someone else staring at him, but there was only Bryson and Sarah, both of them clearly upset.

  “Let’s just go,” Bryson said. “Let’s break into the VNS and strap Weber to a chair if we have to. Make her listen. Make all of them listen. We can figure this out, dude.”

  Sarah nodded but didn’t say anything. That tear from earlier had spilled down her cheek, leaving a trail.

  “I just feel …” Michael tried to find the right words. “I feel all this pressure inside, and I think it’s going to explode. It’s hard to breathe.” He pulled in long breaths, one after another, filling his lungs, then exhaling. He was as panicked as he’d ever been, just because some flighty girl had giggled.

  Sarah hugged him and spoke into his ear. “It doesn’t matter what you are or where you came from. You understand me? And none of this is your fault. The three of us are going to save my parents and stop Kaine once and for all. Got it? Don’t worry about anything else, no matter how many people stare at you. No matter what anyone says.”

  Michael’s breathing and the ruthless beating of his heart started to even out. He felt like a moron now.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Kinda lost it there for a second.”

  “Kinda?” Bryson repeated, smiling halfheartedly.

  “Okay. Now, which way is the stadium?” Sarah asked.

  Michael knew very well that she didn’t need to ask—she had everything mapped out to the inch. But he appreciated the gesture and the show of confidence.

  “That way,” he said, pointing behind her. A few minutes later, his EarCuff blinked on, revealing the alert he’d set up. Gabby was in the city, ready to meet.

  “She’s here,” he told his friends. “Gabby.”

  Neither Bryson nor Sarah looked very happy. Michael knew they were still worried that meeting up with her was a huge risk.

  “Don’t say anything about the stadium yet,” Bryson said. “Have her come to that coffee shop over there.” He pointed across the street.

  Michael sent the message.

  They waited nearby, hiding behind a crowd of people until Gabby showed up. They wanted to make sure she came alone, though Michael didn’t doubt she would. He’d seen the look in her eyes when she’d first found him in Jackson’s body. She was an innocent victim in all of this, just like him.

  Once she was inside the coffee shop, Michael, Bryson, and Sarah crossed the street and followed her in. The place was only half full, and Gabby had already found a booth, where she sat looking around anxiously. When she spotted Michael, such a look of relief spread over her face that he felt terrible for dragging her into all this.

  “Hi,” she said when they walked up, eyeing Sarah and Bryson.

  “Hey, Gabby,” Michael replied, hating the awkwardness. The restaurant was warm and smelled of burned coffee. “This is Bryson. And Sarah. Guys, this is Gabby.” Her nickname already came naturally.

  They all said hello somewhat guardedly as they sat down. Sarah studied Gabby from across the table, and Michael couldn’t tell if it was out of jealousy or mistrust. Or both.

  “Well?” Sarah finally presse
d. Everyone focused on Michael.

  He swallowed, wishing they’d had a chance to order drinks. “Okay, listen. Gabby … I’m sorry about all this weirdness, but everything I’ve said is true.”

  Her eyes moistened a bit.

  Bryson nodded, murmuring, “Crazy stuff. Crazy, crazy stuff.”

  Michael glared at him, trying to convey that he wasn’t helping.

  Then, surprising Michael, Sarah took charge. She reached across the table and grabbed Gabby’s hand. “Do you want us to call you Gabriela or Gabby?”

  “Gabby.” The girl pulled her hand out of Sarah’s grasp, clearly uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “Gabby, then. Look, the three of us have been friends inside the Sleep for a long time. But then we found out that Michael was a part of the Lifeblood Deep program. You’ve heard how realistic that place is, right?”

  Gabby nodded but wouldn’t make eye contact with her.

  Sarah continued. “These Tangents … some of them are completely lifelike. And now they’re beginning to become sentient. Michael had no idea any of this was happening.” She looked at him apologetically, but he was deeply relieved that she was doing the talking. “He was a Tangent. But there’s another Tangent—Kaine—he’s figured out this process that downloads the intelligence of a Tangent into a human brain. Essentially the human brain’s just a biological computer. People have been saying this is possible for decades. Am I making any sense?”

  Sarah spoke so calmly, and so matter-of-factly, that Michael looked on in awe. He actually thought she had a chance of convincing Gabby. Which was a good sign. They might even have a chance with the VNS.

  Gabby leaned on the table. “So all three of you, right here, right now, are telling me that a Tangent named Michael was … downloaded into my boyfriend’s brain?” She turned and faced Michael. “That this … person … is no longer Jax? That Jax was just drained, like a flushed toilet? That’s what you’re telling me?”

  Michael felt sick having to explain again. “We don’t know how it works exactly. I’m actually hoping that somehow he’s, I don’t know, stored somewhere. I mean, if it can happen in one direction, why not the other? Maybe he’s still … maybe he still exists. Who knows, maybe we can save him.”

  Gabby laughed, but there was no trace of humor in it. “Honestly?” She shook her head and folded her arms, leaning back with a heavy sigh. “I just don’t know how I can possibly believe all this.”

  “Just think about Jackson,” Michael said. “Jax. If you really knew him that well … I mean, do I seem like him to you? At all?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You most certainly do not.”

  She paused, considering. “So keep talking.”

  They talked for another hour. Bryson got coffee and pound cake for everyone, and they swapped stories, showed her things on Bryson’s old NetPad—even pulled out the ancient NetTab for a while to share some of the odd stories they’d researched about possible Tangent sightings around the world. Michael told Gabby about his old life, about his family, about Helga, about everything. Sarah brought her up to speed on Kaine and what he’d done to them. Bryson told her how they needed to get into the VNS and confront Agent Weber.

  They talked and talked and talked, and Gabby listened.

  Finally, as if they’d exhausted the English language, silence fell upon the table. Michael waited anxiously to see if they’d been able to convince Gabby.

  She sighed and put her hands on the table, picking absently at a fingernail. “I know this sounds corny, but I don’t care. I love”—she faltered, flickered a glance at Michael—“loved Jax. I did. I do. It’s so confusing! You guys have seriously screwed up my head forever.”

  Michael didn’t say anything, and wisely, his friends didn’t, either.

  “Listen, I don’t know what I believe,” Gabby continued. “But I know Jax, and this guy isn’t Jax.” She jabbed a thumb at Michael. “No offense. It’s just that … I can tell he’s missing. Ya know? And all those stories you showed me … If nothing else, you’ve got me freaked out.”

  Suddenly a composure came over her that was transforming. She sat up straighter; her eyes brightened; her skin seemed to glow. Michael could tell she was on the cusp of making a major decision, and he waited breathlessly to hear it.

  “I can’t be spotted anywhere near VNS headquarters,” she said. “Too many people there know me because of my dad. But I can help you get in.”

  They leaned closer as she kept talking.

  The Falcons’ stadium was a massive thing, all glass and shiny metal. It looked like some mother spaceship from a sci-fi movie, ready to blast off for the stars. Since it was the offseason, the parking lot was an empty sea of asphalt, surrounded by multilevel structures erected to hold even more cars. It seemed that they had available parking for every person on the planet to come to a Falcons game.

  He and his friends ran across the wide lot, the surface under their feet beginning to heat up from the morning sun. “In Lifeblood Deep, there was a space toward the front—a private parking spot that opened up like a trapdoor. That must be what Gabby was talking about.” He hoped they could find the right one.

  Sarah already had her NetScreen lit up. It was hard to see in the sunlight, but visible enough. Gabby had said that once they got within the range of the thousands of signals that floated around the stadium, they’d be able to find the crack they needed to dive into. They’d gone over everything in the coffee shop as best they could.

  “Man,” Sarah said. “This place is swarming. It makes our home signals look like cheap old radio stations. There’s more information flying around here than I’ve ever seen before. Even deep in the Sleep itself.”

  Bryson clicked his tongue. “Well, there you go. We must be in the right place. Let me get linked up with you.”

  The two of them worked at their screens, making Michael feel a little left out. He knew what they were doing. He’d noticed it on several occasions. They were worried about him, thought he was fragile. On edge, especially after the strange encounters during the last day or so. He couldn’t blame them for treading lightly with him. It was almost as if he were a newborn.

  They stopped at the last—or first—row of parking spaces, closest to the hulking stadium itself. Michael looked around, took it all in. The structure loomed above them like a mountain of metal.

  “This is where she said it’d be,” he said. “Northeast corner.”

  Sarah sat on the curb, her eyes never leaving the faint glow of her NetScreen, and Bryson sat right next to her. Gabby had given them a few leads based on things she’d learned on her frequent visits to see her dad. As his friends worked those leads, Michael stood in front of them, feeling dumber by the minute.

  “Anything I can do?” he asked. “Last I remember, I was pretty smart when it came to things like this.”

  Neither Bryson nor Sarah acted like they’d heard a word he said. He forced a laugh, but that didn’t work, either. Giving up, he clicked on his own NetScreen and started dinking around to see if he could find something they might have missed.

  They’d all been working for about five minutes or so when Michael heard the strangest sound. A slow but constant … clopping. He looked up just in time to see a horse come around the curve of the stadium a few hundred feet away, a police officer perched on the animal’s saddle. The horse’s shoes smacked against the sidewalk, an eerie, echoing noise that felt out of time and place with the hustle and bustle of the city.

  Michael felt a little sting of alarm, even though the cop showed no interest in them. Yet. It was so strange. Human civilization had gotten so advanced that virtual reality was hardly distinguishable from real life and machines could hover in the air like alien spaceships. Yet some police evidently still walked around on horses, as if they were sheriffs looking for outlaws. He remembered the hovercop’s story about his great-great-something-or-other-grandpa.

  “Guys,” Michael whispered. “We might want to pick up the pace. The
re’s a cop over there. On a horse.”

  Bryson snickered at that but didn’t look up. Neither did Sarah. They were working feverishly, which Michael hoped was a good sign.

  “Just saying,” he murmured. He returned his attention to his own NetScreen, but he felt like anything he did would be a waste—his friends were already way ahead of him.

  Two things happened, so close together that Michael couldn’t tell which was first. A loud clank sounded just as the parking lot trembled close to where they sat. Then a rectangular section nearby separated from the surface around it and started lowering into the ground, groaning sounds of machinery coming from below.

  Thank you, Gabby, Michael thought, hoping desperately he’d see her again to thank her in person.

  The cop yelled something in the distance, and just as Michael looked over at him, the man started charging in on his horse. The sound of the horse’s metal shoes striking the asphalt reminded Michael of gunfire.

  “Quick!” Sarah yelled, on her feet. “Now’s our chance!”

  Michael was already on the move, getting there before either of his friends. He jumped down onto the descending section of asphalt and turned around, watching as the cop approached. Bryson and Sarah joined him; then they dropped down to their hands and knees and crawled toward the edge of the platform. They peeked down, trying to get a glimpse of where they were going. It was dark below—pitch-black—but unless the VNS had tricked him with their re-creation in Lifeblood Deep, there was a second parking garage down there.

  Michael got on his stomach and swung his legs over the side; then he held his breath and pushed off, landing just a few feet below on smooth concrete. He heard Sarah land nearby, and then Bryson landed on top of him. They scuffled until everyone got back to their feet. The light from above illuminated the garage well enough now to see that there was no sign of people.