Chapter 47 Chapter 47: Fate Hangs by a Thread

Thomas slept fitfully for hours, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard rock.Finally he fell into a deep sleep, and then the dream came. Thomas was fifteen, and he didn't know how he knew this.This has something to do with the time setting of the memory. Is this a memory? He and Teresa were standing in front of an array of monitors, each showing various images of the glade and maze.Some images were moving, and he knew why.The images captured by these cameras are from the blade beetle craft, which have to change positions from time to time.When they do, it's like looking out through the eyes of a mouse.

"I can't believe they're all dead," Teresa said. Thomas was puzzled, again not quite understanding what was going on.He was in the boy who was supposed to be himself, but he didn't know what Teresa meant.Obviously not the Glademen - on one screen he could see Minho and Newt walking towards the forest; on another, Gary was sitting on a stool.Then Alby was yelling at someone Thomas didn't know. "I knew it was going to happen," he finally replied, not sure why he said it. "Still hard to swallow." They weren't looking at each other, just analyzing the screens. "Now it's up to us, and the people in the clearing."

"That's a good thing," Thomas said. "I feel almost as sorry for them as I do for the Gladeers, almost as much." Thomas wondered what that meant when the younger version of him in the dream cleared his throat and said, "Do you think we know enough? Do you really think that before all the original creators have When we die, can we still do this?" "We have to do this, Tom." Teresa came up to him and grabbed his hand, he looked down at her but couldn't read the expression on her face, "everything is in place, we have a year to train the replacements and prepare."

"But it's wrong to do that, how can we ask them to-" Teresa rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand harder, it hurt him. "They know what they're getting into and stop talking like that." "Yes." Somehow, Thomas felt that the other person in his vision had died inside at this moment, and his words were meaningless, "The only thing that matters now is those patterns, that killing zone, nothing else." Teresa nodded. "It doesn't matter how many people die, how many people are injured. If those variables don't work, they end up the same way anyway, and everyone will be that way."

"Those patterns," Thomas said. Teresa squeezed his hand: "Those patterns." When he awoke, the light had dimmed to a dull gray, the sun had dipped below the horizon he could not see, and Harriet and Sonya were sitting a few feet away from him, The two were staring at him with strange eyes. "Good evening," he said with affected enthusiasm, the haunting dream still fresh in his mind, "what can I do for you ladies?" "We want to know what you know," said Harriet quietly. The lingering misty drowsiness quickly disappeared. "Why should I help you?" He wanted to sit up and think about what he had dreamed, but he knew something had changed—he could see the change in Harriet's eyes— Don't miss this opportunity to save your life.

"I don't think you have much choice," said Harriet, "but if you would share with us everything you know or think, we might be able to help you." Thomas looked around for Teresa, but didn't see her. "Where is Teresa—" Sonia interrupted him: "She said she wanted to scout the neighborhood to see if your friends were following us, and she's been gone for about an hour." In Thomas' mind, he could see the Teresa of his dream.Looking at those patterns, talking about dead creators and Killzone, talking about patterns, how does it all fit together?

"Have you forgotten how to speak?" His eyes were fixed on Sonia. "No, um... does that mean you're reconsidering killing me?" It seemed silly to him, and he wondered how many people in the history of the world had asked the same question. Harriet smiled smugly: "Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions, and don't think we're all getting straight. Let's just say we have some doubts and want to talk - but your chances are slim." Sonia took her lead and said, "It looks like the smartest thing to do right now is to do what they're asking us to do. We've got a lot more people than you, I mean, come on. If it's up to you decide, what will you do?"

"Of course, I would definitely choose not to kill myself." "Don't be an idiot, it's no fun. If you could choose, either you die or all of us die, which would you choose? It's a choice between you and us .” The look on her face told her she was serious, and the question hit him like a punch in the chest.She's right, in a sense.If that happened—they would all die if they didn't get rid of him—how could he expect them not to? "Are you going to answer?" Sonia urged. "I'm thinking." He paused, wiping sweat from his brow.Once again, the dream worked its way into his mind, and he had to push it back. "Well, I'm telling the truth here, I promise. If I were you, I'd choose not to kill me."

Harriet rolled her eyes and said: "Of course it's easy for you to say that, and now your life is hanging by a thread." "It's not just because of that, I think it's some kind of test, maybe you guys aren't really supposed to do that." Thomas' heart began to beat faster—he was saying what he really thought, but he doubted they would Wouldn't believe him, even though he tried to explain, "Maybe we should share what we know and clear something up." For a long moment Harriet and Sonya made eye contact. Sonia nodded at last; then Harriet said: "We've had doubts about the whole thing from the first. There's always been something wrong with it. So, yes, you'd better speak, but first Let's call everyone here." They stood up and went to wake the others.

"Well, hurry up, then," Thomas said, wondering if he really had a chance at getting out of this bad situation, "we'd better do this before Teresa gets back."