we're keeping all their personal effects. That was bad, Dr.Thornberry, letting them have their money. As long as a prisoner hascash, you can't trust any guard."
Thornberry froze. "As prison psychologist, I protest. I consider thoseprocedures an unwarranted invasion of physical privacy and a forcingof a man into dependency with traumatic effects--"
"I would much rather make a prisoner dependent on my good will thanhave him bribe my guards, doctor. And I would much rather invade hisprivacy than have him invade my stomach with a knife made out of bone.
"A metal-spotter is, perhaps, good, but too many killing tools can getby them."
Thornberry seemed more than willing to continue the discussion, butthe tractor-trailers were pulling off the bridge. After a moment'sjockeying, they turned so that the back of the trailers pointed towardThe Cage.
* * * * *
A corporal eased out of the white car that had led the convoy. Heshifted his shotgun to his left arm, saluted, said, "GeneralBennington? Corporal Forester, with thirty-four prisoners."
"Thirty-four? We expected thirty-five."
"Ralph Musto tried to get another idea in the Harrisburg terminal.He'll be in the hospital about ten days."
"Musto?" For a moment, the name meant nothing to Bennington.
"Connecticut, sir, one of the murder and bank cases. Are you preparedto accept delivery of the others?"
"Yes, we are. But we are unfortunately a little short-handedtoday...."
"We always stay around till the boys are in The Cage, sir," thecorporal said.
"Thanks. Start unloading."
Corporal Forester saluted again and turned to face the vans. He wavedhis arm and another trooper unlocked the door of the trailer to thegeneral's left. A group of men slowly jumped out and stood blinking inthe sun.
A trooper opened a large compartment beneath the van and yanked outseveral large bags, all locked, all bulging, all the type Benningtonhad known too well since the Second War.
The prisoners' personal effects, Bennington decided, and lifted hismegaphone.
"Form a single line facing the gate," he commanded.
There was an excess of shuffling movement, but at last a line wasformed.
Corporal Forester waved his hand again. The doors of the trailer werelocked and it started across the bridge.
Then the second trailer was unloaded and sent away. When its cargo hadadded themselves to the line, the corporal again approachedBennington.
"Want a roll call, sir?"
"The count is correct, but a roll call will help get them in order, inthe right frame of mind." Bennington raised his megaphone to his lips."Now get this! When your name is called, sound out HERE and run forthat gate. Then walk up the path and through the open door.
"John Musto."
A stockily-built, dark-faced man stepped from the line and with anexaggerated slowness dawdled toward the gate. His pose lasted only amoment. One of the Duncannon guards stepped forward and smacked hisrifle barrel across Musto's kidneys. The bank robber and murdererpitched headlong to his knees, got up slowly with a snarl. But whenthe guard gestured again with his rifle, Musto broke into a shamblingrun.
Bennington waited until the first of the brothers stood panting at thegate, then called, "Pietro Musto."
One example had been enough. Pietro took off on the double. In fiveminutes the last man had vanished into The Cage.
"You get these, too, sir." Corporal Forester, with a bundle of papers.
"Right. And thanks for staying, corporal. By the way, isn't theresomething I sign?"
The trooper produced a form and a pen. Bennington signed and theysaluted each other. The corporal grinned, then his expression sobered."That's a real bunch there, sir."
"We're conditioning them immediately, corporal."
"Good idea, sir. The sooner, the better!"
With another salute, the corporal turned to his car and Benningtonstarted toward The Cage.
* * * * *
Inside The Cage, Bennington went into the corridor that led behind themirrors. He wanted to watch the weapons-check and the conditioning; hefound Thornberry waiting for him.
Bennington looked through the mirrors at the men standing as he andhis party had stood yesterday. Room One of The Cage was marked offinto numbered squares. Each man stood on a number, separated from hisbrother cons by about ten square feet. They knew they were beingwatched, although the men behind the mirrors were invisible to theprisoners. They stirred restlessly, standing first on one foot, thenon the other, looking uneasily in all directions and seeing nothingbut their own reflections.
"Dalton is on Ten," Thornberry said.
Bennington looked and saw an exceedingly average-looking man. Wouldn'tnotice him in a crowd, the general thought and realized that he hadlearned one reason for Dalton's success.
"Start the random sequence with him," he said. The system was set upso that no prisoner knew when he would be summoned.
"I told them to do that," Thornberry said.
"Number Ten", the loud-speaker boomed.
The general moved down the corridor until he was looking into thehallway between Room One and Room Two. Until yesterday, the prisonershad simply walked down the corridor while detectors checked them forthe presence of metals. They had then been held at the end of thehallway until they had stripped themselves of everything that hadregistered on the screens.
Today was different. Inside the door Dalton was being thoroughly andcompletely searched. Nothing was found, but Bennington could senseThornberry's grim disapproval of the procedure.
Dalton was then shoved around the first of the hastily-erected screensand ordered into a chair. A doctor beside the chair was ready with aninjection so smoothly and quickly that Dalton was under mild sedationalmost before he was aware of the needle's sting.
Across from Dalton, seated at a small table behind a spin-dizzy wheelof flickering lights and ever-centering spiral, one of Thornberry'spsych-staff waited for a nod from the doctor. Then he started thewheel spinning and Bennington could see his lips move.
After a moment, the psychologist turned his head to the doctor andBennington lip-read the word, "hypno." The doctor slowly put down oneof the biggest hypodermic needles Bennington had ever seen.
Less roughly, the guard led Dalton around the second screen.
At the end of the corridor Judkins was ready. He adjusted the big hoodover Dalton's head.
And Bennington turned away.
He had seen too much of the conditioning process, beginning in itsearly days when the Army had realized its value in reducing themanpower needed to watch the refuse of the cold war.
The POWS from the battle of the little undeclared wars; the refugeecamps, with their possible and probable subversives; the Armydisciplinary stations....
He waited farther down the corridor where he could look into Room Two.In a few minutes Dalton entered. His face was subtly changed. A guardgestured toward the piles of cots and blankets.
Dalton took one of the cots and two of the blankets, moved to SquareNumber Ten on this side of the building and began making up his bed.When the job was completed he sat down.
His back was toward the general and Bennington found himself wishinghe could see the prisoner's face. In the other room, Dalton had beencarefully, thoughtfully staring around.
His posture now spoke of a total lack of interest in his presentsurroundings.
Bennington glanced at his watch and estimated the time needed onDalton. Hm-m-m, little better than five minutes. Of course, if aprisoner was given that second shot.... Well, the average would stillbe about five minutes.
Might as well go back to the office and work out how much each stateowed the prison.
* * * * *
Thornberry's call came at 1915. "We've finished, general, and we'reready to feed them. Of course, we still have some things to put awayover here--"
"Skip it," Bennington said.
"We can have that done tomorrow morning."
"Judkins has asked permission to go to Harrisburg tonight. He wants tosee his sister about an apartment there. Several of the permanentpersonnel do that. It's easy to get back and forth, and there's moreto do--"
"Tell him to take off. And let's see, we'll need him in the morning,but maybe we can give him the afternoon off in return for his overtimework tonight."
"I like that, general, and I'll do it. Now, I'm going to see that theprisoners are fed, then I'd like to see you in your office."
"I want to see you, too, Dr. Thornberry. Tell Ferguson to arrangesupper for two over here--I haven't eaten either."
"I'll be with you in about fifteen minutes."
* * * * *
Because the office