Judge Dredd (4 page)

“. . . Coming soon, the Heavenly Haven Law Enforcement Barracks, bringing surveillance and security to your lives. Another design for better living from the Mega-City Council . . . Coming soon, the Heavenly Have
—”

A stone shattered a window past the holo. A woman beat at the image with the leg of a chair.

“They stole our park!”

“Damn them all!”

“Lying bastards!”

“Stinkin’ lying Judges!”

The crowd swept forward in a wave, a dark and ugly beast with half a thousand heads. They tossed bricks and stones, and tore at the empty air with their hands. A lamppost snapped, and a bright electric arc crackled along the street. A Citizen jerked in a crazy dance and fell.

And that was the moment the weapons opened up on the crowded streets below. Men and women screamed. Lead ripped flesh and bone. Heads exploded and limbs tore away. A river of blood spattered the dark and grimy walls, and Herman Ferguson, ASP-niner-zero-zero-seven-six-four, peed in his prison-issue trousers and ran like hell . . .

It is difficult to imagine that even in the late twentieth century our nation was still paralyzed by a primitive, ineffective system of Justice. In those times, the trial of an accused criminal was often delayed for months, even years. In some cases, the accused was allowed to roam free prior to his trial, enabling him to commit further crimes before being judged for the first.

To add to this bizarre practice, the accused was allowed to hire a professional trained for the sole purpose of confusing the issue through any means possible, in order to set the accused free. This was not an overly difficult task, since accused persons were judged before a “jury of their peers”—that is, ordinary Citizens picked at random who had absolutely no knowledge of the legal system of the times.
*

It is little wonder, then, that lawlessness was rampant in the land in those days, and no one was safe in the streets . . .

—History of the Mega-Cities

James Olmeyer, III

Chapter XIX: “The Way

Back When”

2191

*(Today, rituals involving “prosecutors” and “defenders” occur only when a Judge is accused by his or her peers, a decidedly rare occasion, indeed.)

H
ershey leaned into the wind, taking the skyway curve at a non-regulation twenty-two degrees, the hard surface inches from her head. The Lawmaster screamed but the broad tires held to the road. She didn’t dare look at her speed. A sensor would record all this somewhere; if she didn’t squash herself like a bug, a sergeant would eventually give her hell.

She was vaguely aware that Briscoe was still behind her, still in one piece. Maybe the Rookie would make a Street Judge after all, if she didn’t get him killed.

Mega-City rushed by in a blur of white light. A shuttle whined by overhead. Hershey wondered if Maintenance had checked the loose brake switch she’d red-lined the night before.

“Red Quad, Code Alpha-Two . . . Red Quad, Code Alpha Two
. . .”

She flipped the signal off with a blink, slowed the Lawmaster for a second and a half, then squealed off the skyway onto Rampway Six. The rampway was for emergency traffic only. It circled down to the depths of the city, four thousand feet below. It was nearly pitch dark down there. Hershey punched on her brights. Code Alpha Two was Riot in Progress, and Red Quad was about as mean as you could get. The Rezzies who lived down there . . .

“Easy, Briscoe,” she spoke into her comm. “Keep your eyes open. There’s no one on the way yet but us.”

“I’m right with you, Judge!”

Hershey caught the excitement in his voice. “Don’t be so damn eager,
Rookie.
It’s real bad country down here.”

“I got you, Judge.”

“Good. Just so you do.” Hershey could hear the sound of automatic fire in the distance. She keyed the map on her dash. Red Quad. Left, then a minute and a half.

“We don’t have time for a recon,” she told Briscoe. “There are very likely people in danger right now. You take the street left, I’ll take it right.”

“I read you, Judge.”

“And Briscoe
—watch
yourself, okay?”

“Hey, don’t worry about me. Action is my middle—
yawwwk!”

Yellow tracers stitched the street. Briscoe’s Lawmaster veered dangerously to the right, then straightened and roared ahead.

“Take cover!” Hershey shouted, “Combat One!”

She threw the machine into a skid, drew her Lawgiver and loosed a stream of fire into the tenement above. In a single motion, she was on her knees crouched in the protection of the heavily-armored machine. A glance to the left told her Briscoe was safe.

“Hang in there,” she said. “Keep cool.”

“I’m doing great, Judge!”

She couldn’t risk another look, but his voice said he still had that stupid Rookie grin on his face.

“What do you want me to do?” he said. “What are your orders, Judge?”

“Shut up,” she said, “I’m thinking.”

“Let’s go get the lousy droogs. I’ll lead off, you follow!”

“As you were!”
Hershey ducked as a burst of fire slammed into her machine. “You
see
that? This is
not
an Academy simulation, Briscoe, this is real! We will stand down and wait for backup!”

“Judge—”

Briscoe’s words disappeared in a hail of fire that sent him reeling. When the acrid smoke cleared, a concrete gully a foot deep snaked across the street from one curb to the next. The line ran an inch from Briscoe’s knee.

“That is mucking
heavy arms.
These guys aren’t kidding!”

“What’d you expect,” Hershey said, “spitballs? Comm-Delta, Comm-Delta, this is Jaybird-Fiver, in position outside Heavenly Haven, Red Quad. Under fire, I repeat, we are under fire. Request backup, nearest Judge. Nearest—”

A fireball suddenly erupted behind her. Flames licked the side of the building and glass exploded from the windows. A woman shrieked as oily smoke blackened the street. A second blast geysered beside the first and a wall of heat struck Hershey like a fist.

“Request backup
now,
damn it,” Hershey shouted into her comm. “Now, or
forget it!”

Briscoe raked the upper floors with his Lawgiver. A section of the wall collapsed and tumbled to the street.

“That is
fire
-ammo, Judge. Where’d they get their hands on that?”

“Where the hell do they get their hands on anything?” Hershey muttered. “They just do.”

Hershey tried to give the shooters a blast but the withering fire drove her down. The street was a wall of flame and there was no place to go. She glanced at Briscoe. She was glad the Rookie couldn’t see her face. It suddenly struck her that they’d stick a roach on her record for improper comm behavior. So what if they did? Who’s going to chew out a barbecued Judge?

Where’s the backup? What are you jerks doing out there!

“Judge, we could—I could lay down some fire. You could maybe get out of here, get us some help.”

“Forget it,” Hershey said, “no one’s going anywhere.”

Briscoe nodded. “Yes, Judge. I just thought . . .”

“I know what you thought. And thanks for the offer, all right? I won’t forget you made it.”

“Judge Hershey . . .”

“What, Briscoe?”

“If we don’t get out of this, if anything should—”

Hershey’s Lawmaster lifted into the air. Hershey screamed as the blast sent her rolling helplessly, head over heels along the street. Blood trickled from her ears. From the corner of her eye she could see the big machine against the sky. Time played tricks in her head and the Lawmaster seemed to float forever like a black steel balloon. It was spinning very slowly, directly overhead. Which meant, she decided, when it did come down it would flatten her into mush.

It didn’t seem important at the moment, the Lawmaster didn’t show any sign at all of coming down, and if it did, she would certainly have the sense to get out of the way, any droog could do that . . .

Briscoe scooped her up in his arms as Hershey’s Lawmaster struck the ground like a bomb. He leaped for the cover of his machine, gunfire chewing up the street at his boots. The Lawmaster exploded in a burst of white flame. Briscoe sprawled on the ground and covered Hershey’s head. He opened her visor and saw blood coming from her nose.

“Judge, you—you all right?”

Hershey blinked. “No, Briscoe, I’m
not
all right. Now get off of me.”

“Judge—” Briscoe’s eyes went wide. What if she thought that he . . . Oh, God, she couldn’t think that!

“These machines are supposed to serve as a protective barrier under any adverse circumstances a Judge might encounter in the line of duty,” Hershey said. “I repeat,
any
adverse circumstances.”

“I guess they don’t,” Briscoe said.

“If you can’t depend on your equipment, you are in deep shit, Rookie.”

“Judge. We can’t stay here. We’ve got to get out of the street.”

Hershey snapped her visor shut. “We
can’t
get out of here, we’re pinned down under overwhelming fire. Don’t you know that?”

Tracer bullets rained down on the street. Lead beat a steady tattoo on the armor of Briscoe’s machine.

“No, Judge, I don’t know that. I know if we don’t get out of here we’ll die and I definitely don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“I do, Rookie. When our back-up comes—”

“Our
backup
isn’t coming, Judge. Our backup is somewhere else, caught in another street fight.”

Hershey raised her visor again and gave him a chilling look. “You are
wrong,
Briscoe. Article Nineteen says a Judge in pursuit of his or her duty is
never
abandoned. When a Judge requires aid, aid will be rendered in sufficient force to remedy the situation in question. Have you read the Articles, Rookie?”

“Sure, but this time—”

“There is no
‘this time.’
The Articles apply to every time. Do you read me? Do you—”

Hershey jerked around as a deep roll of thunder reached her ears. The thunder exploded and a black Lawmaster burst through the curtain of flame. The rider slammed a heavy boot on the brakes, spinning his machine in a circle, blasting the scent of rubber into the smoky air. Gunfire ringed the man in a cage of hot steel.

Briscoe stared. “Who the . . . Who the hell’s that? He’s a sitting duck out there!”

“Shut up and pay attention,” Hershey said, “you might learn something.”

Flames licked at the dark figure’s heels. He stalked through the fire, ignoring the chatter of weapons from overhead. Lifting the speaker-mike from his Lawmaster, he turned and let his visored gaze sweep the tall buildings on every side.

“Drop your weapons. Everybody. This block is under arrest.”

His voice filled the streets, echoing off the dark walls.

“Holy crud.” Briscoe raised up and blinked. “It’s him—it’s Dredd!”

High-pitched laughter rang from the tenement overhead. “You want us, come up and get us, Dreddy!”

“Yeah, c-come up and get us, okay?”

Gunfire dug up chunks of pavement at Judge Dredd’s feet.

“Judge Dredd, take cover!” Briscoe shouted.

Dredd ignored him. He walked over and looked down at Briscoe, then at Hershey.

“What are you doing down there, Judge Hershey?”

“Waiting for backup,” Hershey said.

“Backup’s here.” He slapped the side of his Lawgiver. “Let’s go. Keep it simple. Standard relay. Single file. I’m point.”

Hershey nodded. Briscoe straightened eagerly, snapping to attention in front of Dredd. “Judge, I would consider it an honor if you allowed me to—”

“You . . .” Dredd raised a gloved hand and pointed past Hershey. “Back there. You’re tail-end Charlie.
Go.”

Dredd turned away. He looked at his weapon and spoke.

“Grenade!”

The door exploded and slammed against the far wall. Dredd stepped inside. He looked at the trash and the darkened elevator shaft

“Upstairs. The perpetrators’ fire comes from Six.”

He kicked the door to the stairwell aside and started up. It was nearly pitch-dark and he didn’t use a light. He kept up a hard and steady pace and didn’t stop until they reached Six. Hershey was grateful she hadn’t slacked off on her ASJEX routine—the Advanced Street Judge Exercise program. Briscoe was breathing hard behind her. She hoped Dredd didn’t hear that.

Dredd paused in the stairwell, peered around the corner, then stepped into the hall, sweeping his weapon from left to right.

“Clear. Let’s go.”

Dredd started off, then abruptly raised his arm and stopped. The foodkart rounded the corner. It was moving slowly now, dragging a trail of garbage in its wheels. “. . .
delicious and healthful rationpaks, piping hot and ready to eat
. . .”

Dredd glanced at the robot and shook his head. Bending at the knees, he made his way swiftly down the hallway, listening to the walls. At 666, he stopped and raised his hand. Motioned Hershey to the left, Briscoe to the right.

“Lawful entry,” Dredd said aloud. “Suspicion of felons with illegal weapons inside.” He drew back a lever on his Lawgiver and blew the door apart.

Metal Jacket and Needle Teeth turned from the window and stared.

“D-Dredd!”
Metal Jacket went white and swept his automatic weapon toward the door.

“Armed. Resisting Arrest.” The Lawgiver jerked in Dredd’s hands. Metal Jacket and Needle Teeth splattered against the wall and exploded in flames. Smoking flesh slid to the floor.

“This room is pacified,” said Dredd. “Hershey, stay with me. Briscoe, check the hall.”

“Yes,
sir,
you got it, Judge!”

“I have told you people not to use a gender address for a Judge,” Hershey said. “Don’t you ever listen, Roo—
Briscoe, look out!”

Hershey saw the figure appear in the doorway. Briscoe was looking at Dredd. Purple Ears grinned, raised his pistol in a blur and shot Briscoe in the head. Hershey turned on the man but Judge Dredd was already there. He swept the Lawgiver in an arc and rammed the butt hard in Purple Ears’ gut.