F3 Justice

     Jennings smiled.
     No one else did. It was not the type of occasion where people smiled. The small group of people in the "theater" really had nothing to be happy about. Today was not fun, happy, or celebratory. This was a day of justice, a day of closer. Yet Jennings sat there, happy about the crimes that he had committed. Happy about the ones we didn't know about.

     I tried to shut out the sobs of a grieving family Jennings had killed. It had been his last crime, one had had broadcast the public. The image of a little girl in cute pigtails with a confused expression on her face as blood fountained out of her body flashed in my mind.
     I shook it free, and looked back at Jennings. He was laughing, now, and speaking, but the intercom was off on his side, so I couldn't hear it. The warden, though, yelled something at Jennings, and the killer laughed even harder.
     "It's time," The governor said. A guard flicked on the intercom. "Robert Jennings, you have been found guilty of seven counts of first degree murder. Your sentence will be carried out today. You are sentenced to five years of Isolation, after which you will undergo re-education."
     I sighed as the telepaths walked up to Jennings. Isolation and re-education. Mankind had given up death penalties, but some thought Isolation was far more cruel, but it had been effective at rehabilitating people.
     There was nothing to see after the telepaths put their hands on Jennings's head. A few minutes of waiting. They finished, leaving Robert Jennings slack-jawed, vacant-eyed, and still. They cut his mind off from his body. Jennings was locked in, left only with his thoughts and some of his senses. He could see, he could hear, he could smell. Nothing else. He would spend the next five years with no way to interact with the world around him. He might even go insane.
     Good. Justice has been served.