Forcing all the air from his lungs, Dredd screwed his eyes shut and braced himself to be projected into space, but the sucking vacuum quit as quickly as it had started. The emergency seals had shut, leaving Dredd airborne and alone, hundreds of metres over the streets of Luna-1.
And so he fell.
"Bolze moi!" Kontarsky swore out loud, a rare expletive escaping her lips as she threw her Skymaster bike after Dredd. Her heart hammered in her chest when she saw the aero-sedan explode and for a moment she thought that the Mega-City Judge would perish along with the blitzers in the car; but then she saw the dark streak of a body falling back toward the ground and knew he had cheated death once again. She angled her zipper bike toward him and unbidden, a memory of something her mother used to say popped into her mind. That one has a charmed life.
Certainly, luck was on Dredd's side today. The lower lunar gravity meant that his fall was slower than it would have been on Earth, which gave Kontarsky time to cross the distance and loop her Skymaster beneath him. She felt the rigid grip of his fingers snapping into her leg and, with a single swift motion, the senior Judge hauled himself up and into the saddle behind her. He made it seem easy, as if nearly getting blown out into space and falling hundreds of metres was something he did on a regular basis - but then, Nikita considered, given Dredd's record of repeatedly defying the odds, it probably was.
"Good timing," Dredd said, after he got his breath back. Kontarsky smiled to herself; that was the closest she would get to a thank-you.
L-Wagons and emergency tenders were already closing on the impact point on the dome, ready to patch the temporary cellu-foam plug with a new piece of glasseen. Dredd watched them go, contacting Luna Justice Central and ordering a moon rover unit to search for any remains on the void-side. He frowned. A detonation like that and an explosive decompression probably wouldn't leave a lot of evidence to sift through, but there was a chance that the vacuum might freeze-dry something that could give them another lead. A crew of lunar Judges in e-suits would find whatever was left of the Skylord sedan somewhere out in the moondust - and, Dredd hoped, the guns the blitzers had been using.
The Sov-Judge's mind was clearly on the same track. "That missile launcher was military grade weaponry. This is a serious escalation from the small-arms we saw evidence of in Kepler."
"Agreed. It's time to step this investigation up a notch. We're wasting time chasing the little people while the creep who is pulling the strings is staying hidden."
"What do you propose, Judge Dredd?"
"Maktoh was being paid by a MoonieCorp shell company. MoonieCorp bought out M-Haul after they took possession of that weapons load. Those guns turn up in the hands of rioters. Do I have to draw you a picture?"
"It will be difficult to pin anything on them. MoonieCorp have worked very hard to disavow themselves of any connection to their founder following his incarceration. I took the liberty of checking the corporation's files - there are no records of any kind of infraction since they became an independent entity. They have... what is it you Americans say? They have kept their noses clean."
Dredd snorted. "Just because no one has found anything yet doesn't make MoonieCorp innocent. One connection might be coincidence. Two is enough for me to start kicking down doors and busting heads." He tapped her on the shoulder. "Get us back to the Grand Hall of Justice."
The blowout in the main dome had echoed across half a dozen sectors and broken windows on the upper levels of six citi-blocks in the prosperous parts of Luna-City North. Normally, news of something like a penetration of the dome would be kept rigidly suppressed by the Justice Department in the interests of public safety until the matter had been dealt with, perhaps adding a small report to one of the Judge-sponsored channels once everything had been cleared up, but other forces were watching and waiting for something like this to happen. Seconds after the emergency Code Black call went out, intelligent software subroutines and image processing engines went into play, creating footage and matching live feeds from co-opted street cameras to synthetic fakes.
Like a malignant imp, the crater-faced, computer-generated Moon-U mascot reappeared on screens all over the city, bringing with him a warning of terrifying disaster.
"Oh no!" cried the cartoon character, stopping traffic with his wails and turning thousands of people from their daily routines to watch him. "U won't believe this! Look at what the Judges did!"
Shaking his head and blubbering big wet tears, Moon-U played a scene of Dredd, laughing like a madman, as he fired a massive shoulder-mounted laser cannon at a bus full of screaming children. Teeth bared and spittle flying, the monstrous Dredd sent the energy bolt clean through the grav-transport and punched a huge hole in the city dome. The hover bus cracked open like a piñata, spilling kids of all ages and types into the whirling slipstream of the vacuum. People on the street watched in rapt horror as Moon-U's video showed the children sucked out into the blackness of space, their little bodies popping into too-red splats of gore.
"Dredd is crazy!" Moon-U shouted, imploring the audience to listen. "He's gonna kill U all unless U stop him!"
There were those among the crowds of viewers who saw through the display for what it was and some of them even had the wherewithal to say so out loud, a few even laughing at the ridiculous notion. But every single one of them was drowned out by the shouts of anger and hatred, as cries for justice echoed back and forth under the Luna-1 dome.
Tex snapped off the vid-screen with an angry flick of the wrist and stood up, fixing Dredd with a hard glare. "Grud damn it, Dredd! Were you even listening to me? I said I wanted minimum casualties, not massive property destruction! What the hell were you doin' out there?"
"You wanted results, Tex. I'm getting them for you."
"Results?" the Judge-Marshal exploded. He snatched up a data pad from his desk and read out what was displayed there. "A Justice Department medical technician dead, a wrecked con-apt and a half-dozen minor injuries in neighbouring apartments. Six separate airborne traffic accidents resulting from your pursuit of a criminal. Eight more deaders on the top floor of the Rent-A-Robot Agency tower, plus two more killed by falling masonry!" He slammed the pad down on the desk. "And then to top it all off, you punch a hole in the dome! You call that getting results?"
Dredd's eyes narrowed. "Let's be clear about this, Chief Judge. You requested my assistance up here because you wanted someone who could get the job done. I regret any innocent loss of life as much as the next Judge, but I had no choice but to go after that aircar. They murdered Maktoh right in front of me."
"All right, partner..." Tex took off his hat and rubbed his brow. "Let's say we forget the chase for a second and talk about this med-tech. What the drokk led you to him, huh?"
"Maktoh handled the autopsy files for Rodriguez. Something was rotten there and I followed it up."
Tex shook his head. "Don't give me that famous 'Joe Dredd hunch' bull! I know you leaned on that Simba City fella to hack the records, even after I told you to keep your damn nose out! You're lucky Ortiz and his cronies never found out about that lil' detail!" He threw up his hands. "Jovus! Che was right about you! You ain't mellowed in your old age, you've turned into a bigger hard-ass than you ever were!" The Texan waved a stern finger in Dredd's face. "You know, back home in the Big Meg you might be the big dog, but up here you're on my leash! We gotta different way o' doin' things on the Moon and you ain't towin' the line!"
Dredd ignored the accusing tone in his former partner's voice. "I don't have time to debate my methods with you, Tex. MoonieCorp are in this and they're in it deep. I put J'aele on a full sweep though their data records and Foster's going to join him when he's out of speed-heal-"
"You did what now? You're investigain' one of the biggest corporations on the Moon without my authorisation? You're barkin' up the wrong tree there, Joe! MoonieCorp ain't like it used to be in the past when ol' CW was honcho - they gotta good rep now, supporting charities, public works..."
"I'll bear
that in mind," Dredd said dryly. "In the meantime, I'm taking a hopper out to Farside Pen to talk to Moonie himself."
"Oh no you ain't," Tex growled. "You disobey orders and disregard procedure like it ain't no thing and now you're on some kinda revenge kick, raking up perps from twenty-five years back? Moonie's a sick old man wastin' away in a cell on the dark side and you're layin' all this at his door? I reckon the low gravity is foggin' your brain, Dredd! If that's the best you can do, then you're not the Judge I remember..."
Irritation flared in Dredd and his jaw hardened. "I'm not here to play nice for you, Tex. If you wanted a softly-softly approach, you should have called in someone else!" He made a derisive grunt, looked at Tex and saw nothing but his age and his weakness. "Maybe you were right when you said your judgement is getting rusty. You and Che sit up here in your office and you have forgotten what life is like down on the streets. You got soft and now Luna-1 is going to pay the price!"
"You arrogant son of a bitch!" Tex shouted. "I've held this chair for half my grud-damned career! I kept this city from self-destructin' while you played the yahoo on Earth, tossin' around nukes like they were spit-balls! Remember this, Dredd, you ain't been Judge-Marshal up here for a long, long time! I'm the sheriff of Luna-1 and I say how it goes down, not you!"
Dredd slammed his hands down on the desk and stared Tex in the face. "Then do your damn job, old man! Or else step aside for someone who has the guts to enforce the law!"
"You callin' me out?" Tex retorted fiercely. "You stone-faced drokker, you think you can take me-" The Judge-Marshal's hand darted towards the antique six-gun in his belt holster.
Years of training automatically made Dredd go for his own weapon, muscle memory working his fingers before he was even conscious of it.
"Dredd!"
"Tex!"
Both men turned toward the source of the voices behind them. Che and Kontarsky entered the Chief Judge's office and beyond them through the open door, Dredd could see a dozen more men all watching with concern. Belatedly, he realised that every heated word he and Tex had exchanged must have been heard in the anteroom and corridor beyond. The hot anger that had raced through him just seconds earlier ebbed and Dredd carefully stepped back from Tex's desk, aware of the tension tightening every muscle in his body. The Judge-Marshal's expression held in a grimace of anger and disappointment.
"What is going on here?" Che demanded. "They can hear you out on Hestia!"
"Just a... difference of opinion." replied Dredd.
Tex sat heavily in his chair and drew a hand over his face. "I've got the Triumvirate breathin' down my neck, the citizens callin' for your blood... It's time to cut my losses." He gave Dredd a long, measuring look. "By order of the Judge-Marshal, you are to stand down from your position as taskforce leader. I want you on the first shuttle back to Mega-City One."
Kontarsky gasped. "Chief Judge, that is a mistake!"
Tex ignored her. "Luna-1 is gonna have to sort out its problems without your heavy-handed help, Dredd."
10. INTO DARKNESS
The old man in the hoverchair nodded slowly, the faint red lights of the Silent Room casting a demonic illumination over his craggy, pock-marked face.
"Perfect," he purred, drinking in the word. "I couldn't have asked for a better outcome. And with witnesses too." He gave a mocking salute to the bald man sitting across the room from him. "You're an artist, do you know that?"
The bald man seemed uncomfortable with the compliment and looked away. "I am merely an instrument of destiny. My skills serve only our cause."
His superior, the tall man, suppressed a cold smile. "Ah, you truly are a model Judge, are you not? Obedient and strong. Sometimes I wonder if you ever harbour dreams of taking power for yourself..."
"Sir, I would never-" the junior man began.
The tall man waved him into silence. "No, no, I know you would never dream of it. You do not have the instinct to lead, do you?"
His subordinate looked away, barely covering the anger he felt at being mocked in front of the other cabal members. The bald man said nothing and simply accepted the insult. In time, he would show his superior just who it was who could lead and who could not...
"I have to admit, for a second there I almost thought Dredd and Tex were going to shoot one another!" said the thin man, sharing his words like a ribald joke with his chairbound master. "A few moments more and Dredd might have done the job for us!"
"There's still time," smirked the tall man, joining in the gallows humour.
"I swear," began the old man. "I've seen it work a dozen times now and still it fascinates me. Watching a normal man slip over the edge into rage, at just the push of a button... Planting one of the devices in Tex's office, though, that was a master stroke."
"We have spent many years perfecting the hypno-pulser technology." Pride swelled in the bald man's voice. "On low-level settings, like those we used on Dredd and Tex, the subjects don't even realise that they are being manipulated. That's the beauty of it, you see. The pulser just amplifies emotions that are already present."
"Well, however it works, it's genius. That gizmo is gonna make the Moon mine again."
"You're too kind." said the tall man, "But let's not forget it was your pet turncoat who did the deed. I trust that particular loose end will not come back to bother us any more?" he asked, addressing the old man's assistant.
"Not unless he can sew himself back together," the thin man said flatly. "And the men who were sent to kill him are corpses as well. There will be no repeat of the Umbra situation."
"I am gratified to hear that. Perhaps now we can resume our plans without any further unforeseen obstacles?"
"What about Dredd?" the bald man asked. "He'll be on the next ship to Earth. Are we going to just let him go?"
"Nothing is leaving until the solar flares have died down," the man in the wheelchair shook his head. "And besides, you don't know Joe Dredd like I do, son. That stubborn law-dog is too dumb to just down tools and go. He's gonna put himself right where we want him, you can count on it."
"We're monitoring Dredd's movements," added the thin man.
"Good," said the tall man, smiling once more. "In the meantime, order the assassin to prepare. We will begin phase two immediately."
"Is it true what I heard? About Dredd?" Foster said as he approached the table in the mess hall where J'aele and Kontarsky sat. The Tek-Judge gave him a sullen look and nodded. Foster sat heavily, wincing as he unwittingly put pressure on his recently healed arm.
Kontarsky gestured at the limb. "You are fit for duty?"
"More or less," Foster replied. "The skin is still a little tender but it's nothing I can't handle. I just have to avoid any flying bullets for the time being." He hesitated. "I reckon I owe you some thanks, Kontarsky. The Robo-Doc told me I might have lost my arm if you hadn't been there to slap a med-pack on me."
The Sov-Judge gave a tight nod of acceptance. "I would have done the same for anyone. Just because our cities may not be allies, there is no reason why we cannot work together on amicable terms."
Foster raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Blimey. What happened to you quoting East-Meg doctrine at the drop of a helmet? I thought all Sovs considered us Westerners to be decadent and contemptible."
Kontarsky sniffed. "Perhaps my exposure to different law enforcement cultures on Luna-1 has broadened my viewpoint." She gave Foster a sideways glance. "Besides, I never said I did not think you were decadent."
"What we are is high and dry," said J'aele, absently smoothing a hand over his bald head. "With Dredd's removal from the taskforce, we're cut adrift. With all due respect to you, Judge Kontarsky, I doubt very much that Judge-Marshal Tex will allow you to take charge of the crisis investigation."
Foster nodded. "I heard talk from one of the Med-Judges that Deputy Che will be taking over where Dredd left off."
J'aele gave a cynical grunt. "Then we can be assured that nothing will get done. Che was once a fine officer, but he
is nothing but a desk man now. This investigation needs a senior Street Judge to lead it."
Kontarsky shook her head. "If I had not seen it myself, I would not have believed it. Dredd and Tex, the two of them were near to blows when we entered the office. In all honesty, I had expected better from him."
"Dredd's served for longer than some of us have been alive," said Foster, pointedly giving the Russian a brief look. "Tex too. Maybe they're both candidates for the old Long Walk, eh?"
"I refuse to accept that!" Kontarsky snapped hotly. "First Rodriguez and now this... There is a conspiracy at work here, I am convinced of it!"
"Perhaps," J'aele agreed, "but without firm leads we have nowhere to go. Dredd might have had the latitude to follow his instincts, but we do not. I have no doubt Che would not hesitate to ship us home too if we ignore protocol."
"What about Umbra?" Kontarsky said. "Perhaps we could interrogate him further-"
"Umbra is dead," said Foster flatly. "You didn't hear? He was stuffing his face and his ticker gave out. Pop! Just like that and the fat bloke was a goner. They had to take off the cell door just to get him out."
"A heart attack?" the Sov-Judge's lips thinned. "How convenient."
J'aele sighed. "It matters little. Dredd will be on his way back to Mega-City One within the hour and in a few days we will be knee-deep in the Apocalypse Day anniversary celebrations. Perhaps all of this unrest will have blown over by then."
"You think these riots are just the run-up to A-Day then?" asked Foster. "Just the usual war vets and troublemakers we get every year?"
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