Take the Reason Prisoner Page 3

Bennington snapped on his intercom, said to hissecretary, "Get Judkins in here."

  "Yes, _sir_!"

  _The word seems to be getting around_, Bennington decided, _but thiswill take a moment_.

  * * * * *

  He started on his next problem. "Have you ever inspected the prisongrounds at night?"

  "No, sir! That is Slater's duty!"

  Thornberry was again the proper bureaucrat, horrified at the thoughtof invading another's domain.

  "Judkins here," came from the intercom.

  "Bennington speaking. You know the corridor between the reception andinterview rooms in The Cage?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Get your equipment over close to there. We have a group of prisonersarriving around 1530, too late for complete processing. But at leastyou can condition them against escape."

  The intercom was silent a moment, then, "But how will I know who I'mworking on?"

  Bennington questioned Thornberry with a raised eyebrow.

  The psych-expert shook his head, no.

  "This time you don't need to know," Bennington said. "Get yourequipment set up and report to me when it's ready."

  Another long silence, then, "Yes, sir."

  "He should know who he has under the hood," Thornberry saidthoughtfully, after Bennington had silenced the intercom, "especiallysince the group includes a man like Dalton--"

  "We have something more important to discuss," Bennington cut in,dismissing the subject. "Last night I inspected the prison compound."

  He described what he had found, then leaned back to hear Thornberry'sreaction.

  "That's not in the least what I told him he could do," thepsychologist said.

  "_What! This is your idea?_"

  Thornberry was equally astounded at Bennington's reaction. "Yes, ofcourse. As soon as I took over as Acting Warden, I told Slater thatsocial visits between the prisoners were entirely permissible untilLights Out. But this--"

  The psychologist shook his head, then appeared to reconsider and hisface brightened. "But it's a step in the right direction. Naturally, Iprefer the Mexican system where the wife is permitted regular, veryprivate, visits to her husband--"

  "Let me get this straight," Bennington felt like a man lost in a maze."You told the Chief Guard that the prisoners could visit each other--"

  "No, not all of them," Thornberry interrupted. "I never meant thatsome of the problem cases, like a few of those in Number Three,should have complete social relationships."

  "Just exactly what were you thinking of when you gave that order?"

  "Thinking of? Why, sir, I was thinking of our poor patients here.Society has ordered them confined, yes, but need we necessarilydeprive them of _all_ human rights?"

  Thornberry seemed ready to orate for an hour, but Bennington stoppedhim with a gesture. "All right, I've handled POW camps, maybe in oneway I can see your point. But we can take up the philosophy of thislater.

  "Right now, this is the essential fact, that Slater has taken yourorder and twisted it into a racket.

  "So let's talk to Slater."

  But the intercom said, "He hasn't come on duty yet."

  "He has the room at the head of the stairs," Thornberry said.

  The door was locked, but the psychologist produced a set of masterkeys.

  "I want a set of those, too," Bennington said.

  The room was heavy with the smells of cheap whiskey, stale cigarettesmoke and human sweat. Two figures were sprawled on the bed. A hairy,bearlike man, Slater; a big well-built brunette.

  Thornberry squinted through the gloom, then turned on the lights."That's Mona Sitwell," he said, "and I'm sure she was supposed to beon orders to leave here two weeks ago."

  Bennington remembered the case, the spinster who had found her parentsa hindrance to her extensive enjoyment of male companionship. She hadliterally chopped up their objections.

  "Follow through on the orders you give sometime," Bennington saiddryly. "You may meet a few more surprises."

  The man on the bed stirred, threw his arm up over his eyes. "What doyou want?" he mumbled sleepily.

  Bennington mentally cursed the Civil Service regulations which tiedhis hands, and left him only one thing to say: "Your immediateresignation."

  * * * * *

  "Message Center, sir."

  "Go ahead." The general looked at the desk clock. 1515. He could guesswhat they wanted to tell him.

  "Sir, the new consignment will be here in about ten minutes."

  "Thanks. Pass the word along to Dr. Thornberry and add, I'll meet himat the flagpole in five minutes."

  Bennington pushed back his chair, slowly stood up. This had alreadybeen a full day's work.

  Slater had been worse sober than he had been sleepy and half-drunk.His covering barrage of threats on leaving the prison had been equallydivided between the general's personal health and the entire prisonsetup.

  Thornberry had screened the other guards. And, after sitting in ononly two sessions, Bennington had at last found one small reason tolike his chief assistant. The psych-expert could spot a liar almostbefore the man opened his mouth.

  But right now, and, at the wages offered, probably for a long time,Duncannon was very short of guards.

  Judkins was ready in The Cage. An efficient man, but he had been alittle resentful at the extra work involved in moving his equipment.

  The prisoners would remain in The Cage overnight, except for theirtrips to the Mess Hall. A reorganized supply room had disgorged morethan enough cots and blankets to convert The Cage into a temporarydormitory.

  Bennington riffled the papers on his desk showing when the prisonerson hand had been received and how long they had been ready to go totheir assigned prison. This matter took top priority. Some of thepeople had been here over a month. If he could push through the planto charge the states for every day Duncannon kept a prisoner after thecriminal was ready for shipment, then the various states should eachpay, as a rough estimate showed....

  But the clock on the desk showed 1520, time to meet Thornberry. Withlonger than usual steps, Bennington strode out of his office and outthe main door of the Administration Building.

  * * * * *

  Thornberry was pacing around the flagpole directly opposite the mainentrance.

  "This man, Dalton," the psychologist said, falling in step with thegeneral, "you know he escaped from us twice."

  "Make him the first through," and Bennington dismissed the subject."I'm more interested in this. Are there any ex-service men among thegroup?"

  Thornberry sniffed, "Still worried about our conditioning and oursecurity, general? I repeat, even though we do not use the lobotomiesand other techniques of our cold-war competitors, we can neverthelesscondition anyone sent to us so that he will not make any trouble."

  Bennington shrugged, "I'd like to see you work on a para-commando. Orone of the General Staff."

  Thornberry, now leading the way through the Processing Building,called back over his shoulder. "How many of them end up in prison? Imean, from the General Staff? The para-coms do, of course, they justcan't adjust to civilian life and I think the Army should do somethingabout that before they discharge them. But they never come herewithout an accompanying court order allowing us to use the eyeballtechnique."

  Along the short path, enclosed by barbed wire, from Processing intoThe Cage. Swiftly along the corridor behind the one-way visionmirrors, down the walk to the gate in the barbed wire.

  Bennington looked around and nodded approval: his reception committeefor the new arrivals was waiting.

  He looked across the river toward Harrisburg. Yes, just turning intothe bridge approach, two tractor-trailer combos, preceded and followedby white cars.

  Bennington glanced around again. From the roof of The Cage, Ferguson,drafted as a guard for this emergency, waved and lovingly patted thebutt of his submachine gun.

  One of the regular guards
gave the general a sound-powered megaphone.He nodded thanks, lifted it.

  "Give me your attention!"

  "The procedure is as usual except that, when the prisoners go into TheCage, they are going to get an overnight conditioning treatment.

  "But until they've had that treatment, you must be alert! These areall dangerous men."

  Beside the general, Thornberry whispered hearty agreement. "Yes, yes!Except for Rooney, everyone on that list is here for armed robbery ormurder and usually both."

  Bennington lowered his megaphone. "I almost forgot to tell you. Iadded a complete physical search to your metal-detectors, we're doingit right inside the door to the corridor.

  "And