"Frederik Pohl - My Lady Green Sleeves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pohl Frederick)

minutes, every time. . . .
Every time but this.
For Flock moaned behind him, oddly close.
The guard turned, but not quickly enough. There was
Flockastonishing, he was half out of his jacket; his arms
hadn't been in the sleeves at all! And in one of the hands,
incredibly, there was something that glinted and smoked.
"All right," croaked Flock, tears trickling out of eyes
nearly shut with pain.
But it wasn't the tears that held the guard, it was the
shining, smoking thing, now poised at his throat. A shiv!
It looked as though it had been made out of a bedspring,
ripped loose from its frame God knows how, hidden in-
side the green-sleeved jacket God knows howfiled, filed
to sharpness over endless hours. No wonder Flock
moaned! For the eddy-currents in the shiv were slowly
cooking his hand; and the blister against his abdomen
where the shiv had rested during other rest periods felt
like raw acid.
"All right," whispered Flock, "just walk out the door,
and you won't get hurt. Unless the other screw makes
trouble, you won't get hurtso tell him not to, you hear?"
He was nearly fainting with the pain.
But he hadn't let go.
He didn't let go. And he didn't stop.

IV
And it was Flock on the phone to the wardenFlock
with his eyes still streaming tears. Flock with Sauer stand-
ing right bebind him, menacing the two bound deck
guards.
Sauer shoved Flock out of the way. "Hey, warden!" he
saidand the voice was a cheerful bray, though the ser-
pent eyes were cold and hating. "Warden, you got to get
a medic in here. My boy Flock, he hurt himself real bad
and he needs a doctor." He gestured playfully at the
guards with the shiv. "I tell yon, warden. I got this knife,
and I got your guards here. Enough said? So get a medic
in here quickyou hear?"
And he snapped the connection.
O'Leary said, "Warden, I told you I smelled trouble!"
The warden lifted his head, glared, started feebly to
speak, hesitated, and picked up the long-distance phone.
He said sadly to the prison operator: "Get me the Gover-
norfasti"
Riot!
The word spread out from the prison on seven-league
boots. It snatched the City Governor out of a friendly
game of Seniority with his Manager and their wivesand
just when he was holding the Porkbarrel Joker concealed