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

something she wanted. She reminded him daily of his lack of ambition, of his dead end situation. When
the split finally came, he had been relieved. And grateful. Connie hadn't wanted children. Not yet. She felt
twenty-eight was too young to be saddled with kids. Deep down, he suspected she would never want
any. Kids were too messy, too noisy, and too expensive for her to enjoy.

Andy gave the man next to him a long look. Schuler was a big boy, over six-four, and weighing in at a
little over two hundred fifty pounds. All bone and muscle. A member of the E-team, he was on the fast
track to making captain.

"Relax, Joe," he said. "Just go home. There's nothing you can do about it. We'll be okay. We always
are."

Schuler nodded. "Sometimes, I think that's the problem. We always manage."

He handed Andy the papers he had been going over and took off the radio hanging on his belt. He
passed it to his relief with a shrug. "You'll need this before the night's out. There's only about a dozen of
them working anywhere close to right. Man, what a mess. Makes me want to play the lottery."

Andy laughed. "Sure. And after you won, what would you do with all that time on your hands? You
would miss us. Besides, men like you and me, we're not here for the money. Don't you watch the talk
shows? It's the uniform. The ego trip. Get home and catch some shut-eye."

Joe's forehead lost a few of its creases but not all of them.

Always worried.Andy clapped the man on the back. "Joe, don't take this place home with you. If you
do, you won't make fifty. Do what you can, then leave it here." He smiled, but this time it didn't touch his
eyes. He was thinking of another officer who, the year before, died of a heart attack at the age of
thirty-eight. The man hadn't left anyone behind because he gave everything he had to the job. There was
nothing left for him to build a life with outside the walls. "Stop off for a beer on your way home. One
won't do you any harm, and it could do a lot of good."

Joe shook his head. He didn't drink, except very occasionally. Didn't gamble. Didn't smoke. He ate
right. Tried to get at least six hours sleep out of every twenty-four, and when he could he got in eight. He
was one of the new breed of guards who took their physical health seriously. It was men like him that
changed the title of "Prison Guard" to that of "C.O., Correctional Officer." They took their health
seriously, and they took their jobs seriously. Sometimes, too much so.

Schuler was checking out the state employees lining up to enter the prison. Andy knew he was counting
them. One assistant superintendent, three zone lieutenants, seven zone sergeants, twenty-nine guards and
two nurses: that was who he would be running the prison with. A thirty-percent shortage of bodies. They
weren't all here yet. Most of them would show up in the last five minutes.

Andy watched Joe watching the midnight shift arrive.Good man, but he's going to worry himself into
an early grave.

He glanced around the twenty-five by forty-five foot entry area and saw Lieutenant Rodney Hulbert, the
afternoon shift's second in command.

Rod seemed as small as Joe did large. Just a hair over five-six and with no extra meat on him anywhere,
he looked like a strong breeze could blow him away. Andy knew the appearance of frailty was about as