Bad Moon Rising

by David Bishop

  The other girl was frightened by the thoughts suddenly appearing in her head. Who are you? What do you want?

  Misch tried to think a smile of reassurance. I don't want to hurt you, she thought. I just want to know why you are so unhappy.

  I-I can't-

  The R'qeen child received a mental flash of a clenched fist. Somebody hurts you? Hits you?

  How do you know that? Can you see that in my head?

  Misch had stopped at a doorway. She was very close to the girl now. I can sense what others think and feel. Don't be afraid. My name is Misch.

  The door opened a fraction and a small, frightened voice spoke from inside. "I'm Kasey," the girl said.

  Misch opened her eyes. Through the gap in the doorway she could see a little of Kasey's face. It was mottled with black, purple and yellow, but Misch knew those were not the usual markings of a human child. "Hello Kasey." The R'qeen broodling was startled to realise she was speaking the human's language, despite never having learned it. This must be another aspect of metema. She would have to ask her broodmother about it later.

  "Do you want to play?" Kasey asked, biting her bottom lip hopefully.

  Misch smiled. "Yes please!"

  Miller was delivering Sharona Moore and her disciples to the desk sergeant at Sector House 87 for processing when a thought occurred to her. What if the incendiary device that gutted Robert Hatch had come from within the Justice Department? She and Dredd had assumed it must have been taken from a Citi-Def squad's armoury, but these could not be easily accessed without judicial authority. The device might have been stolen from the sector house, or more likely from the panniers on a Judge's Lawmaster. It was a long shot, but still worth investigating. Miller took a turbolift down to the Armoury in the lowest sub-basement of the sector house. The storehouse of ammunition and weaponry appeared deserted until the night droid appeared from behind a crate of Lawgivers.

  "Armourer not around?" Miller asked.

  "At one in the morning? You jest," the robot replied impatiently. The mechanoid announced it was busy with the overnight stocktake. "Can I help you with anything?"

  "There was a suspicious fire at Robert Hatch a few hours back. Tek-Division detected Lucir-74 among the chemical compounds left as a residue. I was wondering if any incendiary devices have been stolen or reported missing in the last, say, seventy-two hours?"

  "Nope," the droid said without hesitation.

  "How can you be so sure? You didn't check the computer."

  "No need." The robot tapped the side of its head unit. "I have a direct link to the system in here. Plus I undertake a full and thorough stocktake of the armoury's entire inventory every night at this hour - assuming nobody disturbs me. Nothing comes in or out of here without my knowing about it."

  Why did department droids always have to be officious, Miller wondered? Just once she'd like to encounter a robot that didn't consider itself a cut above its masters. "Well, it was just a hunch," she said, beginning to leave.

  "The only recent change in our stocks of incendiary devices was last night when a colleague of yours collected one for a demonstration. It's due for return at dawn. Other than that, nothing to report."

  "Right." Miller smiled and continued towards the door. She stopped on her way out, calling back to the droid. "Tell you what, give me the name of the Judge and I'll remind them about returning the device."

  "It was Stammers. Judge Eustace Stammers."

  Stammers was standing inside the turbolift, glaring at the two remaining aliens on the seventy-second floor of Oswald Mosley. "Are you coming or not?"

  Lleccas shook her head. "It's our broodling. She's missing!"

  Stammers sighed, not bothering to mask his exasperation. You'd think these vultures would have enough sense to keep a firm grip on the creepy little creatures they spawned. "Then find her, for Grud's sake! I ain't holding these doors open all night," he growled in Allspeak.

  "Why don't you help us?" the male R'qeen asked, nursing one of its arms. "What if something has happened to Misch?"

  "Just one less of you freaks for me to worry about," Stammers said with a cruel smile. "I'll give you two minutes to find her. After that you make your own way to the top of this dump." The R'qeen looked ready to attack Stammers but was dragged away by its mate. It was only after the aliens had gone Stammers realised the male was the same one he had fought outside Robert Hatch. Damn vultures all looked the same.

  Sector Chief Caine was lecturing Conchita in front of the citizen's sons. "What sort of example are you setting for these juves? Children learn how to hate and who to hate from their parents."

  "They don't have parents, they just have me. Their father was killed by a vulture years ago. It was Judges like you who let his murderer get away."

  "Don't call them vultures!" Caine growled. "The R'qeen may be carrion eaters but they are also residents of this sector. They have as much right to live in this block as you do, citizen."

  Conchita shook her head. "Those con-apts on the top floor, they were being refurbished for families like mine. Decent families, human families. Not the bug-eyed monsters you've put up there!"

  "This is a temporary measure until-"

  "Cut the stomm, lady!" Dermot said. "We know what's going on here!"

  "Yeah," his brother added. "You want us out so you can fill the building with these freaks! Your kind makes me sick. Drokking vulture lover!"

  Caine glared at both juves before regarding their mother. "Congratulations. I see you've done a good job teaching these two to hate."

  Conchita pulled back a fist, ready to strike, but stopped herself. Instead she smiled at the Sector Chief. "Nice try." The smile drained from her face as two R'qeen approached. "What are those things still doing on this floor?"

  "Excuse me," Nyon said, his English heavy with accent. "We are looking for our - how do you say - our child?"

  "Your broodling?" Caine asked.

  "Yes, our broodling, Misch. She has wandered off..."

  The Sector Chief activated her helmet radio. "Caine to all units in Oswald Mosley. There is a..." She stopped, having noticed movement over Conchita's shoulder. "Cancel that. All units return to what you were doing. Caine out." She stepped past Conchita and pushed open the door of con-apt 729. Inside an R'qeen child was playing with a human girl. "Is that your broodling?"

  Lleccas rushed forward and grabbed her daughter. "Misch, what were you doing?" she whispered in R'qeen. "We didn't know where you were. Your broodfather and I have been searching for you."

  "This is Kasey. She was sad, she didn't have anyone to play with," Misch replied in her native tongue.

  "That's all very well but you should have told us where you were going. We were so worried about you!"

  "I'm sorry." Misch waved goodbye to Kasey, who shyly waved back.

  Conchita watched with horror and then anger as the two R'qeen females walked out of her con-apt and down the corridor to the turbolifts with Nyon. "I'll deal with you soon," she hissed at her daughter before closing the con-apt door. "Was there anything else?" Conchita asked Caine.

  "Yes. I notice your daughter has bruises on her face and arms."

  "She's a very clumsy child, always hurting herself."

  "I wonder if she would say the same thing - especially if tested against a lie detector?" Caine reached into a pouch on her utility belt and pulled out the palm-sized birdie unit.

  "You come near my daughter with that thing and I'll show you the meaning of hate," Conchita warned.

  "Is that a threat, citizen?"

  "That's a promise!"

  Caine held up the lie detector to show Conchita. The display was green. "It seems you're telling the truth - for once." By now the rest of the Judges had finished returning the other residents to their con-apts and were gathering in the corridor. "All units return to patrol. Nothing more to do here." Soon it was just Caine left facing the Maguires.

  The Sector Chief stepped closer to Conchita. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. I
f there's any more trouble in Oswald Mosley tonight, I'll hold you personally responsible. That's a promise, by the way, not a threat."

  "You brought the aliens here. When they step out of line - and their kind always do - you'll be the one responsible," Conchita replied before leading her sons into their con-apt.

  Caine stood outside the door listening, but heard no sounds from inside. Satisfied, she went to the turbolifts. It was now time to deal with Dredd.

  "She's gone," Dermot said, his right ear pressed against the con-apt's front door. Conchita nodded, one hand clamped over her daughter's mouth.

  "Good. Take your brother down to the juve hall. Once the Judges have left the building, I want you to contact our friends. We'll need help if we're going to get rid of the scum on the top floor."

  Once Dermot and Ramone had gone, Conchita released her daughter. Kasey tried to hide herself in a corner, but there was no escaping the disgust in her mother's eyes. "I can't believe what I just saw," Conchita began. "A child of mine communing with one of those... those creatures. What possessed you?"

  "She seemed nice," Kasey whimpered.

  "Do you know what their kind do? They kill other animals and let the flesh rot until it is putrid. Only then do they eat it. The vultures are carrion eaters, the lowest of the low. They carry diseases and bacteria everywhere. And you let one in here. We should burn everything that monster touched!"

  "Misch isn't a monster!" Kasey protested. "She's my friend!"

  Conchita slowly undid the belt from her waist. Clasping the buckle firmly, she looped the belt several times around her fist but left half the strap hanging free. "Scum like that will never be our friends, Kasey. I've told you that before but it seems you weren't listening. So now I'm going to beat that lesson into you."

  Dredd had been waiting in the lobby of Oswald Mosley for nearly ten minutes before Caine stepped from the turbolift, carrying her helmet under her arm. "Good, you're here," she said. "I understand you wanted to see me-"

  "What happened up there?" Dredd demanded.

  Caine sighed. "Going to be like that, is it? Very well. There was a confrontation between the residents and the new arrivals. The conflict has been defused and all involved given a verbal warning. I doubt we will see any more trouble from Oswald Mosley tonight."

  "Then you're living in a dream!" Dredd replied. "This place is an explosion waiting to happen. Putting the aliens here, even temporarily, was a colossal misjudgement. I guarantee this place will be in flames before dawn."

  "Well, thank you for that outburst - I'll take it under advisement. Was there anything else?" the Sector Chief asked.

  "That street reporter for Channel 27, Riff Maltin. His credentials should be withdrawn. He seems more interested in creating news by provoking anti-alien hatred than simply reporting what happens."

  Caine shook her head. "I've seen no evidence to confirm such an allegation, Request denied. What else?"

  "Have you suspended Stammers and Riley yet?"

  "Why should I?"

  Dredd jerked a thumb at the scene outside the lobby. "They caused that chaos. Those two are out of control, especially Stammers."

  "Is that right?" Caine asked.

  "Yes!"

  She smiled. "For somebody who's just arrived at this sector, you seem very quick to pass judgement on your fellow law enforcers. I wonder what they would have to say about you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I wonder how they would feel about you calling the Chief Judge's office to complain about this sector's performance."

  "I have requested an urgent meeting with the Chief Judge, but that is all. How do you know about that?"

  "I told you before, Dredd, you're not the only one with friends in high places. Don't expect the Chief Judge to respond to your request anytime soon. By the way, it may be some hours before she receives it." The smile faded from Caine's features as she stepped closer to Dredd. "If you've got a problem with somebody under my command, you bring it to me first."

  "What if you're the problem?"

  "The procedure remains the same," Caine replied. "While you're under my command, you have to respect my authority and the chain of command."

  Dredd shook his head. "This sector is a pressure cooker waiting to blow and you keep turning up the heat, Caine. Putting these aliens here is just the latest in a long line of bad calls you've made. No wonder Justice Central is getting ready to take you off active duty. You're a liability. The sooner they get you away from the streets, the better," he snarled.

  "Keep this up and I'll be more than happy to have a formal warning put on your permanent record," Caine hissed back.

  "Be my guest," Dredd replied. "What I want to know is how the likes of you got to be Sector Chief in the first place. Your record suggests you used to be a good Judge until your ego got the-"

  "My ego?" Caine burst out laughing. "That's rich coming from the king of the grandstanders, the legendary Judge Dredd, who has to be the star of every incident he attends. Frankly, I'm amazed you deign to help us mere mortals!"

  Dredd began striding to his Lawmaster, Caine following him. "Don't you dare walk away from me! I haven't dismissed you yet!"

  Dredd stopped, turning back to face Caine. "Then dismiss me. I've got better things to do than be lectured by the likes of you."

  "That's it! Now you've gone too far!" Caine pulled on her helmet and activated its radio. "Sector Chief Caine to Control, I wish to lodge a complaint against Judge Dredd. The charge is gross insubordination."

  "Control to Caine, not sure we heard you right."

  "I want a formal warning placed on Dredd's permanent record and a hearing held within twenty-four hours. Is that clear enough for you?"

  "Roj that. Control out."

  Caine smiled at Dredd. "Happy now?"

  "Ecstatic."

  Caine mounted her Lawmaster motorcycle. "Try to go over my head again and I'll have your badge for breakfast." She offered one final comment before accelerating away. "Now you're dismissed!"

  Dredd looked around but Maltin was nowhere to be seen.

  Miller completed her paperwork for the suicidal cult members while pondering what the armoury droid had told her. Stammers was an ultra-violent xenophobe but even he would stop short of committing arson, wouldn't he? She couldn't believe Riley would be a part to such an atrocity, even with his feelings about aliens. Yet there was no record of either Judge being involved with any incendiary device demonstration. Something didn't add up.

  Where was Dredd, she wondered. He should have been back at the sector house by now. Miller considered calling him with the new information she had gleaned, but thought better of it. Any such call would be broadcast via Control and the content was bound to reach one of her two suspects. Better to leave him a message and investigate further on her own. Miller recorded a vid-message for Dredd and took it to the garage where Tek-Judge Brady was refuelling her Lawmaster.

  "Could you give this to Dredd when he comes in next?"

  The mechanic was bemused by the request. "Why not just-"

  Miller laid a hand on Brady's shoulder. "Let's just say it's for his ears only and leave it at that."

  "Okay, if you say so. Your bike will be ready in a minute."

  Miller called Control. "Can you give me a current position for Judges Stammers and Riley?"

  "That's a roj. Both are leaving Oswald Mosley now, en route for the Sector 87 dust zone. You want to be connected to them?"

  "No thanks, it's nothing urgent. Miller out." The dust zone was one of several areas in the city devoted to industrial factories and warehouses. Many had been abandoned following the shift in production to cheaper labour markets like Indo-City. As a result dust zones were favourite haunts for fugitives and criminals. Perhaps Stammers and Riley planned to pick up some easy collars there, but Miller wasn't so sure. She collected her Lawmaster from Brady and rode out into the sultry night air.

  "Miller to Control, am going off-radio to follow a lead."

 
; "Roj that. Call back in when you're ready to receive messages again."

  Lleccas was stunned when she saw her family's new accommodation. It was only supposed to be for one night, but already she was hoping they never had to leave. After the crumbling edifice that had been their old block, the top floor of Oswald Mosley was grander than any Lleccas had seen on this world. The emergency stairs curled up the centre of the circular building, surrounded by the turbolifts. Around these was a wide corridor, subtly lit with glass panels in the ceiling revealing the night sky overhead.

  Doorways opened from the circular hallway on to six luxurious con-apts, each set against the outer wall of the building. In the middle of each con-apt was a communal living area with plush, comfortable furniture and warm lighting. Instead of an external wall the room had glasseen picture windows from floor to ceiling, affording a dramatic view of the full moon hanging in the air over Sector 87. Further rooms ran off the main space, offering sleeping quarters for at least half a dozen residents along with cooking and cleaning facilities. A few rooms remained unfinished but the con-apt was still a palace compared to the damp, fetid, decaying hovel that had been Robert Hatch.

  Lleccas was blinking back tears as she went from room to room. "All of this!!! for us?" she stammered in amazement to Nyon.

  Her pairling nodded sadly. "Yes, but this is just for tonight. No doubt we will be returned to our appointed place in the morning."

  Lleccas knew he was right but she was still determined to enjoy this rare treat, no matter how brief it might be. "Misch, which room do you want?"

  The R'qeen child emerged from one of the bedrooms, dragging a blanket and cushions out into the main space. "I want to sleep here, so I can watch the sun rise," she said. "Is that allowed?"

  Nyon could not help smiling at his broodling's enthusiasm. "Yes, that's allowed. Now, let's get some rest. It's been a long night and we don't know when the Judges will come for us in the morning."

  Misch was already settled into a well-padded chair facing the windows. "Goodnight," she said, wrapping blankets around herself.