LIMERENCE ﹐ the maze runner.

40

An hour later, Thomas sat in front of the Keepers for the Gathering, just like he had a week or two before. They hadn't let Teresa in, which ticked him off just as much as it did her. Newt trusted her now, but Clara, Minho and the others still had their doubts.

"All right, Greenie," Alby said, looking much better as he sat in the middle of the semicircle of chairs, next to Newt. The other chairs were all occupied except two-a stark reminder that Zart and Gally had been taken by the Grievers. "Forget all the beataround-the-bush klunk. Start talking."

Thomas, still a bit queasy from the Changing, forced himself to take a second and gain his composure. He had a lot to say, but wanted to be sure it came out sounding as non-stupid as possible.

"It's a long story," he began. "We don't have time to go through it all, but I'll tell you the gist of it. When I went through the Changing, I saw flashes of images-hundreds of them-like a slide show in fast forward. A lot came back to me, but only some of it's clear enough to talk about. Other stuff has faded or is fading." He paused, gathering his thoughts one last time. "But I remember enough. The Creators are testing us. The Maze was never meant to be solved. It's all been a trial. They want the winners-or survivors -to do something important." He trailed off, already confused at what order he should tell things in.

"What?" Newt asked.

"Let me start over," Thomas said, rubbing his eyes. "Every single one of us was taken when we were really young. I don't remember how or why-just glimpses and feelings that things had changed in the world, that something really bad happened. I have no idea what. The Creators stole us, and I think they felt justified in doing it. Somehow they figured out that we have above-average intelligence, and that's why they chose us. I don't know, most of this is sketchy and doesn't matter that much anyway. I can't remember anything about my family or what happened to them. But after we were taken, we spent the next few years learning in special schools, living somewhat normal lives until they were finally able to finance and build the Maze. All our names are just stupid nicknames they made up-like Clara for Clara Barton, Archie as in Archimedes, Alby for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton, and me-Thomas. As in Edison."

Alby looked like he'd been slapped in the face. "Our names ... these ain't even our real names?"

Clara wasn't surprised, though. She knew Clara wasn't her real name. She had heard when she had gone through the Changing, her real name was Zoey. She figured it didn't matter, though - that was all in the past.

Thomas shook his head. "As far as I can tell, we'll probably never know what our names were."

"I know mine,"Clara piped up. "I heard it when I went through the Changing."

"Yeah, but your Changing was different. You even woke up earliest than expected. But, Thomas, for the rest of us, what are you saying?" Frypan asked. "That we're freakin' orphans raised by scientists?"

"Yes," Thomas said, hoping his expression didn't give away just how depressed he felt. "Supposedly we're really smart and they're studying every move we make, analyzing us. Seeing who'd give up and who wouldn't. Seeing who'd survive it all. No wonder we have so many beetle blade spies running around this place. Plus, some of us have had things ... altered in our brains."

"I believe this klunk about as much as I believe Frypan's food is good for you," Winston grumbled, looking tired and indifferent.

"Yeah, because you're opinion means so damn much to us, Winston. Oh no, you don't believe us? Whatever will we do?"Clara rolled her eyes.

"And besides - why would I make this up?" Thomas said, his voice rising. He'd gotten stung on purpose to remember these things! "Better yet, what do you think is the explanation? That we live on an alien planet?"