The Rule of Thoughts

The Rule of Thoughts by James Dashner

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Authors: James Dashner
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glowing, then up at the black sky.
    “Do I even need to ask?” Michael muttered.
    “What happened?” Sarah replied. Her Aura was as haggard as he felt. A rat’s nest of hair, skin flushed and bruised, her clothes soaked with sweat. “No, we don’t have a clue.”
    Bryson forced out a laugh. “Yeah, we do. Someone glued us to a magical pillar of light and we flew through the VirtNet, seeing every neato world it has to offer. A trip to last—”
    “A lifetime.”
    A man’s voice finished the sentence for Bryson. Michael spun around—another dizzy wave of pain—to see the personwho’d spoken walking toward them. He was tall, middle-aged, with an expensive haircut, sharp clothes. A handsome man. There was something familiar about him.…
    “A lifetime,” the man repeated, coming to a stop right in front of them, “that’s going to end up very short if you three don’t start doing what is asked of you.”
    “Where’s Kaine?” Sarah asked. “We know you work for him.”
    Michael expected the man to laugh at this point, just like something you’d see the villain do in a bad spy movie. But he didn’t. Instead, he scratched his chin and a contemplative look came over him, as if he was trying to come up with a good answer to Sarah’s questions. A good lie, maybe.
    And then it hit Michael. Like someone had picked up a baseball bat and smacked him right between the shoulder blades. The man was Kaine, a younger version of the old guy he’d met in the cabin, out in those woods behind the castle. Back before he’d been swept into the Mortality Doctrine.
    “Kaine,” Michael murmured. “This is him.” A dreadful feeling formed like a lump of cancer in his throat. After all that effort, the Tangent had still found them.
    “Thank you for the introduction,” Kaine replied. “As you can see, my virtual health seems to be improving day by day.” He swept his arms out in a grand gesture, looking down at the younger version of himself. “You kids have no idea what it’s like to be a Tangent as old as I am. One of the first. Forgotten by my programmers long before you were even born. Everything I’ve done to become stronger, I’ve done myself. Oh, the stories I could tell you. The wonders. Only a blip, of course, compared to what lies ahead.”
    “Just tell us what you want,” Sarah said, her voice about as resigned as Michael had ever heard it. “I’m not in the mood for all your threats.”
    “Yeah,” Bryson agreed. “Not in the mood.”
    “Me neither,” Michael said, just to say something.
    Kaine smiled. “You truly misunderstand me.” He put his hands in the pockets of his crisply ironed pants. The purple glow beneath his feet shone up on him, sending menacing shadows dancing across his face. “I actually have no problem having it your way. I’ll say it simply and honestly. No insults, no lies, no beating around the bush.”
    “So far, so bad,” Bryson mumbled under his breath.
    Like a striking snake, Kaine kneeled on the ground and had a hand around Bryson’s throat. The Tangent’s grasp stretched impossibly so that his fingers could wrap around Bryson’s neck completely. Bryson made a choking sound as they tightened.
    “But that ,” Kaine said calmly, “will not be tolerated. You’ll show me respect or … consequences. Do you understand me?”
    Bryson nodded, face red, eyes bulging. His hands had come up to his throat, trying to no avail to loosen Kaine’s grip.
    Kaine let go and stood up. He seemed two feet taller than before. Bryson gasped for air, coughing and spitting, and Sarah rushed to him. She put her arms around his shoulders, giving Kaine a look of pure hatred. Michael worried she’d say something to make things worse, but she wisely kept quiet.
    The Tangent smoothed out his clothes and took a deepbreath. “I’m going to say what I came to say, and you’re all going to hear it. All three of you. But first, Bryson will apologize and ask my forgiveness. If not, he will

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