The night was young. Avery was at Aurora’s Palace, waiting outside the door for Ridley’s meeting to end. He sipped on water with trembling hands, almost as if he knew something was going to go wrong.

  The hallways were empty after six in the evening. The only people who stayed were the higher-ups and the janitors.

  With no one to talk to, he inhaled sharply, remaining silent. He could ask 2A for advice, but he didn’t want to risk being overheard in the bright halls.

  After a few minutes, people started to empty the room. Ridley walked out, speaking with Ertz while waving hand gestures and exchanging clean smiles.

  Avery shook Ertz’s hand. “Talk to you soon.”

  Ertz nodded and headed for the elevator.

  Ridley patted Avery’s shoulder. It was a firm, yet friendly pat. “What’s up, kid?”

  “How was the meeting?”

  “Eh, it’s late, so I could barely pay attention.” He checked the time on his watch and yawned. “I got your message. A pretty odd request.”

  Avery cracked a grin. “I want to see how the interrogation procedures work. It’s one of the few things I haven’t seen within SCAR.”

  “Tsk, I guess. I hope you know that I don’t partake in interrogations anymore. I have other things on my plate. But, if you want to see how a master gets things done, then so be it.” He adjusted his collar with pride.

  If there’s one thing Avery knew about Ridley, it was that he had a massive ego. Avery planned on using Ridley’s ego to get Roger off the hook. Avery didn’t have a concrete plan, but he could still maneuver around the situation.

  They made their way to the prison, passing the required security checkpoints. It was easier and quicker being alongside Ridley. He flashed his virtual badge with pride and completed the required biometric scans to verify his identity.

  Once at Gamma, Ridley spoke with the receptionist, this time being an elderly man, who was surprised by Ridley’s visit. He smiled, and Ridley gave him a sincere handshake. Avery introduced himself as well, though he didn’t need to since everyone knew him.

  Ridley rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned-up shirt and requested to speak with a few inmates. The receptionist nodded and asked if there was anyone in mind.

  Avery wanted to speak with Roger. That was a must. However, it would be a good idea to have Ridley interrogate someone else first, so Avery could get a sense of how things went down.

  “How about someone who's been here for some time?” Avery said, knowing it wouldn’t be Roger.

  “Yes. We will take the inmate with the longest duration.”

  The receptionist tapped on a holographic keyboard. "Cell 04. Frederick Irving. The inmate has been here for 27 days for illegal weapons distribution.”

  “Oh, that seems complicated. Is there anyone here whose crimes are much less?”

  The receptionist searched with his eyes moving back and forth. “Yes. There are a few for vandalism, public intoxication, and evading arrest.”

  That was Roger’s charge. Before Avery could act, Ridley spoke with joy.

  “Oh, there’s a big guy there, right? A massive guy. What cell number is that?”

  “CELL 11.”

  Ridley clasped his hands. “Perfect. I’ll question him. Ready, kid?”

  Turning back or deflecting would be awkward, since Avery’s end goal was to have Ridley interrogate Roger. However, he wanted to do that after interrogating someone else, so he could understand how Ridley questioned inmates.

  Avery tsked under his breath and nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine with me.”

  The receptionist gave them the go-ahead to enter Gamma.

  The corridor was wide, and the floor was steel, with blue and white strips of light running like veins. Each cell food was tall with panels broken by a glowing number, indicating the cell. In front of the cell was a monitor that tracked patient activity, such as heart rate, and provided their crimes.

  They walked straight to CELL 11 without stopping. Once there, Ridley entered a passcode on the monitor, enabling him to walk through the transparent barrier. He stayed at the monitor, continuing to type and select stuff. Moments later, two chairs and a long, rectangular table rose from the floor within the room.

  Ridley entered through the barrier with Avery following. Avery didn’t know interrogations were done in the same room where inmates stayed. It made interrogations easier since there was no need to transport inmates and the like.

  Roger sat on the bed without saying a word. He was obviously surprised by the table and two chairs appearing from the ground, but he still didn’t say anything. He recognized Avery before drifting his eyes to Ridley.

  “Roger, is it?” Ridley said while taking a seat.

  “Y-Yes.”

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  “Nice to meet you. My name is Ridley, and this is my partner in crime, Avery. He’s going to be shadowing, maybe shouting a few good questions. Right, kid?”

  Avery gently nodded with a slight, yet fake smile. “Of course.”

  “Great, great. So, Roger, vandalism, public intoxication, and evading arrest. Quite the mix.”

  Roger sat stiff on the edge of his cot. His wrists were bound in front of him. His eyes darted to Avery, then back to Ridley.

  “I… I didn’t do anything.”

  “If I had an ion every time I heard that, I would be… richer than everyone in Ionian combined. So, fess up. Your friends had a drink, popped a few bottles open, and then got drunk to spray paint a highway ramp. When the authorities caught you, everyone scattered like mice. You and two others, I think, were the unlucky victims. Is that how things went?” Ridley said, almost as though he was rambling.

  “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t drink or participate in vandalism. I was just there.”

  Ridley scoffed. “Why run if you’re innocent, then?”

  “I was scared.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot. You only need to be scared if you did something wrong. Something worth being scared of getting caught.”

  Roger stuck with his story. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Heh, you’re so lucky I don’t have a temper anymore.”

  Avery shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to say something. He tried to remind Ridley that this wasn’t a hardened criminal, but he kept quiet.

  Ridley caught the movement. “Something to add, kid?”

  Avery forced a calm tone. “He doesn’t seem like a criminal. Maybe he panicked.”

  Ridley’s smirk lingered, though his eyes hardened. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s another fool who thinks saying I didn’t do anything is some kind of magic spell.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Alright, Roger. Let’s make this simple. There was spray paint on the ramp, a few bottles on the ground, and a group having a nice time. You ran when the authorities showed up. Is that right?”

  Roger nodded slowly. “I didn’t drink. I didn’t even touch the paint. I was just there because my friends asked me to come.”

  Ridley tilted his head. “So you were there. You just didn’t participate.”

  “Yes.”

  Ridley gave a low hum, pretending to think it over. “And when the authorities arrived, why run? Why not stay and explain yourself?”

  “Because they’re SCAR.”

  That got a chuckle out of Ridley. “Smart boy. So you do know what happens when people waste our time.”

  Roger flinched. “I don’t want trouble. I was scared, that’s all.”

  Ridley leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You were scared, and now here you are. Sitting in front of me, saying you didn’t do anything. So tell me, Roger, if I check the chemical scans on your hands, and they come back positive for paint traces… what do I do with that?”

  Roger went silent.

  Avery shifted again. “Ridley, maybe we can—”

  Ridley raised a hand without looking at him. “No, no. Let’s hear it. I’m curious what our friend thinks.”

  Roger’s voice was soft. “They’ll come back clean.”

  “We’ll see. You’d be surprised how honest these machines are.” He looked at Avery. “Lesson number one: people lie. Machines don’t. That’s why I love this job.”

  Avery said nothing.

  Ridley turned back to Roger. “Now, I’m not an unreasonable man. If you cooperate, give me the names of those who were there, who brought the paint, and who organized it, I might be able to log this as a civic disturbance. You’d walk free in a week. I know we have two people in the other cells with the same crime. Just tell me the truth and give the names, and you’ll be all set.”

  Roger’s eyes widened. “You want me to give up my friends?”

  “I want you to tell the truth. Do you want to be a free man or not?”

  Roger looked down. His voice trembled. “I can’t.”

  Ridley exhaled, disappointed. “Shame.” He tapped on the table. “Then we’ll proceed to the next steps. What that will be, I don’t know. I’ll give the case to someone else. They’ll take the wheel. Who knows, maybe you’ll be treated as a test subject for a new experiment.”

  Avery straightened, startled. “Wait—Ridley, that’s not—he didn’t do anything violent.”

  Ridley looked at him, calm but firm. “It’s procedure. SCAR doesn’t grade on intent. We grade on obedience.”

  This was bad. This was worse than bad. Avery needed a way to divert Ridley’s attention to something else. He needed Ridley not to think of punishment, but rather, a careless mistake that would promote a second chance. Avery scavenged his brain, trying to find something in the limited time he had.

  Nothing.

  He got nothing.

  He couldn’t, yet Roger was imprisoned for a rigorous rule.

  He couldn’t help his half–brother lose a friend.

  In the mix of the heat, Avery opened his mouth, though he got interrupted by Ridley’s curiosity.

  “Roger. You seem like a nice guy. A respectable man. None of this is personal, it’s just… protocol. Don’t take it in a bad way and break the barrier with those guns of yours.” He chuckled. “Say, you got to be the biggest man I’ve seen. Not big in an obese way, but like a tank. Were your parents this big, or just you?”

  Roger stuttered. “Uh… they were… normal?”

  “What are your parents’ names?”

  He stuttered again, answering without eye contact. “Jene and Hank… Hale—the last name.” It took him some thinking to gather the names.

  Ridley nodded a handful of times before asking another question. “Jene and Hank. Nice names. Have you lived in Ionia all your life?”

  “Uh, yeah. By Centail.”

  “Nice, nice. Also, what high school did you go to? Was it the Ionian Private Academy?”

  This was a trick question. There are nine high schools in the City of Ionia, and none of them is called Ionian Private Academy.

  Avery stayed silent, hoping Roger would just stick to his script and not be fooled.

  Roger smiled with no confidence. “I think so? I—uh—maybe—yeah. I think so.”

  Avery gently bit his lower lip, muttering under his breath for no one to hear. “Shit.” This took a turn it shouldn't have.

  Ridley responded. “That’s all I have. You want to ask anything, Avery?”

  Caught by surprise, Avery stuttered until he caught the correct words.

  “Yes. Roger, are you sure all the information you provided is accurate?”

  This was a chance for Roger to clear up any mistakes, especially the high school name. Avery rapidly tapped his index finger on the table, waiting for an answer.

  “I think so,” Roger said.

  Avery didn’t want to pursue this any further in case Roger made himself more suspicious. He leaned back and told Ridley that he had asked for everything he wanted. Ridley acknowledged and stood.

  “We’ll keep you here for now.” He said to Roger.

  Avery knew trouble was brewing. Roger gave suspicious answers, prompting Ridley to investigate further.

  Avery couldn’t do anything but follow Ridley’s lead out of the cell. There were decisions to be made, and not an ample amount of time to make them.