"Eric Flint & Marilyn Kosmatka - Time Spike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

administrative level. It was lean times for the state and cuts had been made. More cuts than could be
safely tolerated. The prisons of today were different from those of the past. Prisoners could not be
locked down for months at a time. They had to be given exercise periods. They were allowed to talk.
Imprisonment was no longer forced labor coupled with solitude. And more had changed than just the
rules.

The prisoners of today were as different as the rules that regulated their incarceration. At least at this
particular prison. X-houseтАФdeath rowтАФwas filled to capacity. Two thirds of the men awaiting execution
were drug addicts who had fried their brains before exiting their teens. Schizophrenia was rampant;
delusions of grandeur were almost the norm. And remorse was something few actually felt. Most could
find an excuse for what they did. Those who couldn't, didn't seem to care.

The last man to be given a hot shotтАФthe series of three lethal injections deemed acceptable to the
stateтАФwas one of those men without a conscience. He had raped, mutilated, and killed little girls.
Grade-schoolers, the oldest of whom was nine.

Without a struggle, he had walked out of the small room where he had spent his last day on Earth.
Meekly, he had lain on the gurney and allowed the guards to strap him down and roll him to the viewing
area. He was sad-eyed, gentle talking, sincere. Claiming to be a born-again Christian. Even at the last
minute he was working the system, hoping for a stay of execution. It hadn't come. An I.V. had been
inserted, and a saline solution began its journey from the dangling plastic bag to his vein. Then from
behind a wallтАФso none of the witnesses could see who administered the deadly dosesтАФan anesthetic,
sodium thiopental, was injected into the tubing by a physician. This was followed by an equally lethal
dose of pancuronium bromide, a chemical that paralyzed the diaphragm and lungs. Then came the
potassium chloride. It didn't take long for this newest addition to his bloodstream to interrupt the
electrical signaling of his heart and cause cardiac arrest. The only tears shed that day had been those of
the girls' parents. The monster's mother had been dry-eyed. His father had not come to say good-bye.

Andy suppressed a shudder.

Lieutenant Schuler frowned. "Next week, and the week after, are going to be rough. The staffing
situation is going to get worse before it gets any better. Keith Woeltje is going out on medical. He has to
have knee surgery. And Kathleen Hanrahan will be starting her maternity leave."
 Andy rolled his eyes, since Joe wasn't looking at him. Schuler was a good manager, but he was close to
burning out. He needed to take a little time off. Not that that would happen any time soon, even though
the man had the time coming. He hadn't taken a sick day or personal day in years. He hadn't taken a
vacation for the last two. They were too short-handed.

Joe was flipping through the stack of papers he carried. He was new to the afternoon shift and was still
trying to get a handle on his crew and the new routine. He was also trying to come to grips with a divorce
and his children living two hours away. Andy knew all the gossip. Maria Schuler had gotten tired of the
long hours her man put in and found herself one who would be home every night by five-thirty. The fact
that the guy made two dollars for every one Joe earned hadn't hurt the situation any.

Marriages didn't usually fare well for those who worked the prison.

Andy's own marriage had gone by the wayside three years back. For different reasons, but the end
result was the same. His wife had been the personnel director of a good-sized manufacturing firm. The
company grew. The promotions and raises came. And she found it harder and harder to introduce her
husband to the people she worked with. His job at the prison, fine the day they married, was no longer