Chapter 3

The second we're inside the building, we're surrounded by people trying to give us advice or orders, or who just like to hear the sound of their own voice. Sadly, those last people are out of luck, because I can't even hear myself think in here. This must be something pretty important. They normally don't bother with students, let alone invite them to the city hall.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Bradley yells over all the chaos. Everyone quiets down and one of the guards that works with my dad steps forward.

"They've finally decided to put the Ryerson kid on trial, see if they can get anything out of him there." He replies.

"What do we need to be here for?" I ask, crossing my arms and putting on my best irritated teenager face. I was missing precious fighting time.

"In two years you'll be old enough to judge these trials, sooner for some students. Cases like this don't come up too often, it won't do any harm for you to sit in on one." Oh, I think, I knew that. Mr. Bradley smirks at me. "But I'm sure you knew that Alaina." If I didn't need his recommendation to get a real Combat job instead of some lame apprenticeship, I'd- I'd- do something! I'm not sure what I'd do, but oh it'd be something.

"So, how does this all work?" Lindsay asks.

"Follow me," the guard tells us. He leads us to a room filled with masks and surplus school supplies like pens, pencils, and notebooks.

"What's all this for?" I ask.

"The notebooks and pencils and such are so you can write down any information the suspect gives out that you think may be important to the trial. All who are judging the trial will have to come to some agreement on the verdict, so it's best to keep all important points in mind. The masks are to conceal your identity. Seeing as he lived in this society and still remembers many of our citizens, especially you Alaina, we need to keep our faces hidden. If he recognizes someone, he can use whatever connection he has to them to his advantage. The verdict most likely wouldn't come out the way it should." He explains, handing us each a mask.

"Seems more like an intimidation tactic to me," Lindsay mutters. I can see what she means; the masks look like something out of a horror film. The guard looks at us sharply and without another word, we both put on our masks.

"What's next, a chainsaw?" I whisper. Lindsay laughs quietly.

"All right, come along." He leads us to a large room made up mostly of really shiny wood. The chairs, the floor, the stands, the walls, the ceilings, all wood. We take our seats reluctantly, sitting on the edge to avoid getting splinters in the skin our shorts don't cover. The guard rolls his eyes and then goes to get the adults who will be helping with the trial. There are a few other kids in the room, all older than us and from a more popular course study. They glance around nervously at each other, occasionally whispering and giggling, all squirming like children. It's my turn to roll my eyes; kids from other studies are so immature. A long line of about twenty adults enter from the door (also wood) that we came through, and the whispering and fidgeting immediately stop as they take their seats.

"All right, bring him in," A voice I recognize as Mr. Paton's, Lindsay's father and the town's official judge. The rest of us are more like a jury, but with a little more power- we can ask questions and make comments or object to things. A pair of (wooden) doors at the back of the room open and my dad and the guard that brought us in walk in on either side of Tyce. I quickly take note that they, in fact, are not made of wood. That's new. Apparently, Tyce is resisting a little, because the other guard gives him a slight shove forward and he stumbles.

"Easy man. You're working with precious cargo here," he says. I roll my eyes along with half the people in the room. They reach the front of the room and my dad and the guard give Tyce a pretty good push into his seat at the stand then walk toward their own seats. "What, no hug goodbye?" Dad ignores him but the other guard turns and scowls at him, shaking his head. I don't blame him. Day care for a sarcastic sixteen year old Castling is not part of the guards' job description. My dad leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. The two of them have to stick around in case the judge has any questions about his behavior. The first person to speak is a keeper who's name escapes me.

"Mr. Ryerson, I'm just going to get right to the point. Why the heck do you keep coming back here?" Tyce shrugs.

"What can I say? The prison food blows my mind." He replies sarcastically.

"Tell us the real reason."

"No comment," he says in a bored voice.

"Excuse me?" The keeper says. Tyce leans forward, resting his elbows on the surface of the stand and smirking at the keeper.

"No. Comment." He repeats. I'm pretty sure everyone's jaws drop and we all blink a few times. I guess after ten years without them, we've all forgotten how much the Castling's truly suck.

"You're not allowed to say that," another faceless person in the crowd says. Tyce leans back and folds his arms across his chest, mimicking my dad's bored posture.

"Just did."

"You need to answer the question Tyce," my dad tells him. Tyce examines a watch he's wearing, then replies, "Nah. I think I'll pass."

"Mr. Ryerson, answer the question." Mr. Paton says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. Tyce lets out an extremely emphasized sigh, then sits up.

"I didn't choose to be a Castling. My parents made that decision for me." He replies.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I blurt without thinking. I shrink down a little bit, not sure if I'm supposed to be asking questions, since I'm just a student. My dad nods at me to show that it's fine, that I have just as much right to participate as the adults. No one corrects me, but looks to Tyce for an answer. He's grinning like the Cheshire cat; he's probably recognized my voice.

"It means, Alaina," He says, emphasizing my name, "that I'm not the bad guy here. I know that what they're doing over there is all wrong."

"And what are they doing that's so wrong?" Some medical student asks sarcastically.

"Ricky," a person I can only imagine is his teacher says warningly.

"What? We know the terms that they agreed to, the government sends the Protectors to make sure they're not doing anything wrong, what could they possibly be doing that we don't know about?"

"Everything!" Tyce snaps. "They're doing everything wrong and you don't know about it because they know the Protectors are there! That's what I was trying to tell Alaina last week!" The room goes absolutely silence and it's like time itself has stopped. You know that phrase, 'so quiet you could hear a pin drop?' Well, this is a new kind of quiet. It's so quiet, we could hear a pin drop all the way out in Castling territory.

"What did you just say?" Mr. Paton asks numbly.

"They know about the Protectors. They have all along. Everyone in Castling territory does. Everything seems normal to you because we make it seem normal to them. But as soon as they're not around, our fun family sitcom ends and first class becomes first class and second class becomes second class and so on." He says, looking down into his lap. "The lower classes aren't treated so great. They don't trust us, think we have to be taught how to be a proper Castling. Every time I come here I bring my family down a class, but I had to keep coming. I had to." All eyes are trained on him. There's no questioning the sincerity in his voice. All the cockiness and sarcasm have left him. Something's going on in Castling territory, and Tyce can't stand to talk about it.

The next thing he says is barely a whisper and we all have to strain to hear it. "Please don't make me go back there." It's a while before anyone else says anything.

"Mr. Peters, Mr. Mason, please escort Tyce back to his holding cell." Mr. Paton says. My dad and the other guard obediently stand, grab Tyce's arms, and keep him walking towards the door. He struggles less than he did on the way in, but his arrogance seems to have returned.

"Watch it! Remember, precious cargo." They continue out the door, but at the last minute Tyce turns back around and looks at us. "He has the Protectors you know. Cast. Took them in last month." With that, he turns back around on his heels and saunters out the door. We all just stare at the door, unsure of what to do. Then one of the older boys burps and his friends all start cracking up. Well, there goes that dramatic moment. Once they're out the door, the adults begin taking off their masks and so do we.

"Well that was awfully short," the medical student apparently named Ricky comments. A few people mumble about it being a waste of time or whatever.

"Short and sweet. Should make the verdict come easy," Mr. Paton says. "What do you say? Is he telling the truth, or is he just trying to get himself out of trouble?" The first person next to him replies that he believed him, and then it continued down the line with everyone saying what they thought. Only about three people doubted him. Even Ricky, who seemed dead set on Tyce being guilty in the beginning had to admit that he was either telling the truth or a really good liar. "That settles it then. We've got to keep him around until we figure out what to do about the Protectors. He's the only one who knows what's really going on over there, we need that kind of information."

"Where are we going to keep him? The prison?" One person asks.

"If that's what we're doing, I'm not volunteering to stay over night with the kid." One guard says. Mr. Paton shakes his head.

"We can't just keep him locked up. I think it's been made clear, he's not our enemy."

"Yea, and besides that, he's still just a kid like us. Can't have him kept around the convicts, or he just might become our enemy," Lindsay says.

"If he's not staying in the jail, then where are we going to keep him?" Another adult asks.

"I'm sure we can find a family that will be willing to look after him until better arrangements can be made," Mr. Paton replies.

"What kind of family is going to let a Castling into their house?" My dad and the other guard choose this moment to walk back in. Mr. Paton smiles.

"Ah, Mr. Peters, would you mind coming over here for a moment." Oh no. I don't like where this is going at all. My dad walks over with a suspicious look on his face.

"What do you need?" He asks.

"Well, it seems Tyce is in need of a place to stay. I thought since you know a bit about raising kids and such and you were once food friends with his family, you wouldn't mind looking after him for a while," Mr. Paton says hopefully. My dad looks at him like he hopes he's joking.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

"I have kids to take care of! Young impressionable kids that would be home most of the day with him!"

"Dad!" I am many things, but impressionable I'm certainly not. I know which side of right and wrong the Castling ideals fall under.

"Okay, I have one impressionable fourteen year old who I don't want picking up Castling habits and a sixteen year old daughter who I really don't want around a sixteen year old Castling!" This reasoning isn't much better.

"Dad! I would like to point out that I can easily kick his butt if I need to! Besides, if we did end up looking after him, I could take Flynn to the gym with me after school, he wants to go into Combat anyway."

"See? Your daughter seems reasonable enough about this," Mr. Paton points out.

"Are you saying you want that boy in our house?" Dad asks, choosing to ignore Mr. Paton's input.

"No, of course not! I'm just saying that maybe staying at our house would be the best thing for him. It's easier for us to take care of ourselves and keep out of his way than it is for most families." I can see in his eyes he knows I have a point. He was the top student in his class when he was studying, I'm currently the top student and Flynn's the only fighter who can come close to beating me in a fight. Besides, most families don't have kids in Combat who can just go off to the gym. Education and Politics students have to stay home and study, and seeing as we have no idea what that kid's capable of, it might not be safe for them to be around him all the time. I can see him weighing the pros and cons in his head.

"Fine. We can take the kid." Mr. Paton begins to thank him, but Dad cuts him off. "But this is only temporary."

"Of course, of course. We wouldn't dare ask any more than that. You may all leave now and Mr. Peters, we'll need you to pick up Tyce from the prison on your way home if you can." Dad nods and gestures for me to come. I get up out of my seat and walk over to him. Then we both begin our walk to the prison.

"How the heck are we going to explain this one to your mom?" Dad wonders. I smile a little.

"That one's on you Dad."

That was intense. What do you think's going on over in Castling territory? I wonder... And how are things going to go with Tyce living with the Peters? How do you think Mrs. Peter's will take it? Please review