The Cast Stone

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Book: The Cast Stone by Harold Johnson Read Free Book Online
Authors: Harold Johnson
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, FIC019000, FIC016000, Indigenous Peoples, FIC029000
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pain necessary is administered, taking into consideration the health of the prisoner, the prisoner’s tolerance levels, and the permanence of the affects. Very clinical.” Roland’s own words were clinical, precise. He spoke as though he was reciting, without feeling. “What it does, what all this procedure does is remove any emotion on the part of the interviewers. As long as they are within the guidelines, anything goes.
    â€œPain can be physical or psychological. Degradation is allowed in the guidelines, except that they cannot use the prisoner’s religion, race, or nationality. Women cannot be degraded on the basis of being a woman. No homosexual forms of interview are allowed. The Christian right disallowed that after the prisoner abuse at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq. Neither can a person’s age be used to administer degradation. These prisoner’s rights are interpreted by the supervisor. The first target to maximize both physical and psychological pain is always, always the prisoner’s testicles.”
    Roland took his hands from his pockets, put them behind his back, hesitated then let them fall to his sides, limp.
    â€œWhen Wright said that Canada was a ticking bomb, he put every Canadian prisoner into the interview room. The first criterion has been met. It’s estimated that forty percent of the population of Dakota Max is Canadian. The interview wing of that place is going to be busy.
    â€œFor those of you who don’t know, Dakota Max is owned and operated by Greatwest Electric. It is a privately run, for-profit prison. It does not pretend to be a correctional facility. There are no programs. The prisoners are not there to learn to correct their ways. Prisoners in Dakota Max are there to suffer for their crimes. Period. There is no such thing as a private cell. Prisoners are in ranges of one hundred. These are open rooms with twenty-five foot walls. The roof is made to open outwards. Once a day for an hour the roof opens, rain or shine, and the prisoners get their mandatory one hour of fresh air; bake, boil, or bath.”
    Roland smiled, a little upturn at the corners of his mouth that only tightened the hard lines of his bony face. He ran his hand across the leg of his pants, maybe to remove the sweat from his palm.
    â€œFood is supplied by whatever fast food company bids the lowest — breakfast, dinner, and supper, wrapped in tinfoil and tissue.” The tiny smile faded.
    â€œIt’s quite the place. Prisoners and guards never interact. Control is accomplished with knockout gas. Seal the range, pump in the gas and all the prisoners go to sleep. End of riot. But what is a riot? Guidelines again. A riot is any major disturbance. Couple of guys get in a fight, in comes the gas. Somebody gets sick. Either the prisoners themselves take him to the door, or they go to sleep so that the guards can enter the range safely. Someone throwing up can be a major disturbance.
    â€œOf course there are calculations that need to be made. Too much gas and prisoners die, too little gas and some will not go to sleep. The guidelines allow for a death rate of less than one percent. Some people have suggested that they over use the gas to keep the population down. I don’t think so. Greatwest Electric is paid by the person; purposely killing prisoners is poor business.”
    He shifted slightly, so that the sun at his back completely shadowed his face. He was too far away for Ben to read his emotions. His words were flat.
    â€œThe beds are moulded into the floor. Can’t hide a shiv under the mattress, there is no mattress. One personal affects locker moulded into the headboard, room enough for a toothbrush, a pocket book, maybe, definitely room for a Bible. Razors aren’t allowed, nor haircuts; after awhile everyone begins to look pretty shaggy. The guards however are all very clean-shaven, helps to differentiate.
    â€œSo that’s the ranges, pretty bare.

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