“It’s also a big step in another way,” Dr. Leavitt added. “The Maze Trials will be only a year or two from now, based on our current pace, and this?” He gestured around the room. “This is something you’re going to see a lot of once we put the first batch of subjects into the mazes. So look at this little exercise as practice. Sound good?”
Thomas stayed quiet. Sometimes they could be so condescending.
“Thomas? Sound good?” Leavitt repeated.
Thomas felt a rage so strong he could barely contain it, like a fire starving for oxygen He didn’t understand how, but somehow he kept it all in.
“Sounds good,” he muttered.
Randall pointed to a different screen from the one showing Minho. In the new one Thomas could see an oval container of some sort. It had a seam along one side and hinges on the other. It looked like the coffin for a fat, very wealthy alien.
“What’s that?” Thomas asked, falling right into their trap. Curiosity often won when it came to him.
“Those are pods,” Randall replied. “Pods for a biomechanical creature that the military was able to help us design. At the moment we’re calling them Grievers. They’re still in the early stages of development, but huge progress was made with this last round. I think we’re just two or more modifications away from having our perfect maze monster.”
Thomas was so taken aback by the seemingly simple statement that he could imagine the ridiculous look that must be on his face. He closed his mouth and forced himself to blink a few times.
“Not what you were expecting?” Randall asked.
“I…I don’t…Expecting?” He was at a loss for words. “What’re you even talking about? Biomechanical creatures? Monsters in the maze? What’d you call them? Grievers?”
Ramirez spoke up. “You’ll learn all the details soon enough. Honestly, we had no intention of sharing this with you for a while yet, but this opportunity arose and, well…I will say, as one who’s been on the committee leading the development of these living weapons, that they’re an achievement by any standard.”
“In short,” Randall added, “if we’re going to understand how the Munies’ brains function despite being inflicted with the Flare, we have to be able to stimulate in them every kind of feeling and brain activity known to humans. Once we start the Maze Trials these creatures will help with that in a big way. You should see the Psych reports. Very interesting.”
Thomas felt like a dark shadow had passed over him. Something that sucked the life out of the air, and the air from his lungs. Everything these men were telling him—it was all feeling worse by the moment.
“Let’s get on with it,” Randall said. He reached over and pressed something. “Go ahead, Alice. Open the pod.”
Thomas watched as the seam alongside the oval pod split open. Jets of steam hissed from the opening, obscuring any clear view of the pod itself. Swirling, eddying mists filled the room on the screen. Thomas glanced over at the screen showing Minho really fast, and the true horror of what was about to happen became evident. Minho had finally broken his gaze and was looking anxiously to his right. Tendrils of fog slid along the floor from that side of the screen.
Thomas stood up, his skin now cold.
Minho was in the same room as that opening pod.
226.11.14 | 5:52 a.m.
“Stop!” Thomas yelled. “Stop that…thing!” His imagination had run wild, trying to picture what terrible thing was about to reveal itself. “I get the point, okay?”
“Sit down!” Ramirez yelled from behind Thomas, and the man grabbed both Thomas’s shoulders and slammed him back down into his seat. Thomas had no idea when the man had moved from his chair.
Randall turned away from the mist-filled screen.
“If we don’t act on our threats,” he said, “then how will we ever have control in this experiment? If we let people escape—or try to—with no consequences, what does that tell the other subjects? Minho made his choice. Now things have to play out the way they’re supposed to.”
“Please,” Thomas whispered, feeling the fight drain out of him. Minho—tough, reckless, always-joking Minho—had a look of such terror on his face that Thomas couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He turned his attention to the pod.
The mist had dissipated enough to reveal the container, its two halves resting on the floor. Thomas stared mutely as something began to climb out.
Whatever he had expected, he never could have dreamed up what he saw next. It was impossible to tell its shape; the creature was wet and glistening, with patches of hair covering parts of its surface. But there was metal too—flashes of steel appendages, and sharp disks protruding from the quivering mass. Thomas watched the hideous creature push itself over the lip of the container and crash down to the floor, revealing a sluglike body about the size of a small cow.
He shuddered, watching the…abomination maneuver. He looked back at Minho, saw the boy thrashing against his restraints, screaming with no sound. The fog had washed over him. It was lingering in the background, melting toward the ceiling.
Thomas lost every bit of his restraint.
“Stop that thing!” he yelled, standing up. Ramirez was there instantly, pushing him down again. “You can’t do this!”
Randall glanced over his shoulder—he’d been watching Minho intently—and gave Thomas a tired expression.
“We have no choice,” the man said simply.
Teresa! He screamed in his mind. You have to do something. They’ve got Minho tied up in a chair and…this…thing, this monster, is about to attack him!