Bad Moon Rising

by David Bishop

  "Who are you?"

  I'm your guardian angel. You believe me, don't you? Misch pushed with all her might, trying to convince the slow-witted human.

  Pressland shrugged. "I guess so."

  Good. Now, let's have a look in here.

  Misch stood aside and let the squad member step into the unfinished room. Pressland began to wander about the space, peering into corners and lifting building materials aside for his search. He was getting closer and closer to the lean-to. Misch touched Pressland's hand, startling him.

  "Hey, what are you-"

  Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of.

  "I'm not afraid!"

  Of course you aren't. You're big and brave. You fought in a war.

  "That's right!"

  Now, when you look inside that lean-to, all you will see is an alien girl.

  "An alien girl?"

  That's right. Are you ready?

  "I guess so."

  Then have a look.

  Pressland bent over and peered through a gap at the inside of the lean-to. Kasey pushed herself away from him, terrified at being discovered. Pressland found himself smiling at the girl before standing up again.

  Now, what did you see?

  "Just an alien girl, like you said."

  Exactly. And that's what you'll tell the other men, yes?

  "Yes," Pressland replied, turning to leave the room. He stopped at the door. "Will I always have a guardian angel like you?"

  If you want.

  "Good." The war hero left the room, smiling to himself. Misch listened as he reported back to his leader. "Nobody in there but an alien girl."

  "All right," Billy-Bob replied sourly. "Seems these freaks were telling the truth. We better move on. Plenty of other places to search."

  As the men were leaving, Misch told Kasey to stay where she was. "I've got to see if my broodfather and broodmother are all right. I'll come back and play with you soon."

  The human girl pointed at her friend's face. "You're bleeding."

  Misch wiped a trickle of blood from beneath her nostrils. "I'd better not try pushing anybody else for a while."

  Lynn Miller regained consciousness when a rat ran across her hands. Her head was pounding fit to burst, like a Heavy Metal Kid was trying to hammer its way out through her forehead. There was a dull pain at the back of her skull, but other than that she felt only the usual aches and muscle strains that came with being a Street Judge in the Big Meg. She was aware of two different movements nearby: the footfalls of a person in heavy boots, and the rat as it scampered across uneven ground. Metal bit into her wrists behind her back, suggesting she had been handcuffed. The vermin begin nibbling speculatively at her fingers with sharp incisors. Miller flicked the creature away, catching the ear of whoever was leaning close to her.

  "You're a lucky girl," someone said near her face. Stammer's rank breath and deep voice were unmistakable. "I wanted to let you die but Riley insisted on putting a rapi-heal patch on your head wound." Stammers nudged her in the stomach with a boot. "Don't try and pretend you're still unconscious. Sit up."

  Miller opened her eyes and shivered. It was a hot, sticky night but a cool breeze was wafting through the dust zone, chilling the sweat on her arms and chest. While she was out cold either Stammers or Riley had stripped away much of her uniform. Gone were the shoulder, elbow and knee pads. Also missing were her boots, gauntlets and utility belt, and she was without her Lawgiver and boot knife. Miller's bodysuit had been unzipped and rolled down to her waist, exposing the white sports bra underneath. She forced herself up into a sitting position, a task made difficult by the handcuffs restraining her.

  "That's better. Let me take a good look at you." Stammers was standing in front of her, and the moonlight glinted off his shaved skull. His helmet was resting on the seat of a Lawmaster nearby. Miller's own helmet was a fractured shell on the ground nearby, large cracks visible in its reinforced casing. Riley must have hit her with tremendous force. Stammers noticed where her gaze had wandered. "I know. You've got a skull like rockcrete to have survived that."

  "My weapons?" she asked.

  "Dissolving at the bottom of a chem pit. I wanted to throw you in too but my bleeding heart partner said he could persuade you not to talk."

  Miller glanced around. "Where is Riley?"

  "Dealing with your Lawmaster. That's the first thing PSU will look for when the search begins." Stammers sighed. "Well, Lynn... I can call you Lynn, can't I? Seems less formal than Miller."

  "Be my guest," she replied sarcastically.

  "Well, Lynn, how are we going to kill some time until Riley gets back?"

  "Let's play twenty questions. Why did you kill those two juves?"

  Stammers shrugged. "You heard them, they were trying to blackmail me. They were useful once but they were starting to overreach themselves."

  "That doesn't justify murder."

  "Those two were responsible for the deaths of hundreds in that fire. Killing the juves was a summary execution. I call it justice."

  "You don't have the right to use that word," Miller spat at him. "I always thought you were a dirty badge, Stammers. I'm just sorry you've dragged Riley down to your level."

  "Really? But it was Riley who first suggested torching Robert Hatch with all the aliens still inside."

  "You're lying."

  "Am I? You know how much my partner hates offworlders - especially the vultures. How far do you think he'd go to get revenge?"

  "I don't believe you," Miller maintained.

  Stammers chuckled. "Your words say one thing, but your face says another, Lynn, You're just not sure anymore, are you?"

  "Drokk yourself sideways with a daystick."

  "An interesting invitation, but I'm just as fond of using a blade as a bludgeon." Stammers bent over and extracted his boot knife from its sheath. "How about you and I get to know each other better? I've seen you naked often enough and I've always liked what I've seen."

  "You're disgusting," Miller sneered.

  Stammers dropped to one knee in front of Miller and flashed the blade through the air, neatly slicing through one of her bra straps. "I'd be careful what you say next, Lynn. You wouldn't want me to slip while I've got this knife in my hand, would you?" He rested the flat surface of the knife against her skin. The touch of cold metal made her jump. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, we are going to become friends. Good friends."

  "Not if my life depended upon it," she said.

  "We'll see about that," Stammers whispered. He drew the blade sideways and cut through the other bra strap. "I don't want to hurt you, Lynn. Not unless you ask me to."

  Miller licked her lips and swallowed. "All right. What did you have in mind?"

  "Well, you mentioned something about a daystick. It's surprising the uses I can find for one of those."

  Miller arched an eyebrow and leaned closer to him. "Perhaps you'd like to surprise me," she whispered. Stammers grinned wolfishly and moved closer to her, one hand stretching out to touch her-

  Miller lunged at Stammers, smashing her forehead into the bridge of his nose. He fell backwards, clutching at his face, blood gushing from his nostrils. His knife fell to one side. "You slitch! You drokking slitch!" Miller scrambled after him, one foot kicking the knife out of reach.

  Stammers reached for the Lawgiver in his boot holster, but Miller was already on top of him. Stammers clawed at her with his hands, fingernails tearing into her flesh. "You fight like a girl, Stammers!" Miller shouted. "Let me show you how a real man is supposed to fight!" She lunged at him again with her head, smashing it against his broken nose. Stammers cried out in agony. She head-butted him in the face once more. A sick, wet sound echoed around the dust zone as bone fragments from Stammer's broken nose were forced backwards into his brain. He cried out, twitched once and then he was dead, blood oozing from the mashed pulp that had been his face.

  Miller rolled away, struggling to wipe the crimson viscera from her face. She had to get these cuf
fs off before Riley came back. She twisted round so her back was to Stammers, enabling her hands to get at the pouches on his utility belt. The electronic key for the cuffs should be in-

  "Move away from him please, Lynn." Riley stepped out of the shadows, his Lawgiver trained on her.

  "Riley, I-"

  "Move away!" Riley shouted.

  Miller shuffled away, still on her knees. Once Stammers was out of her reach, Riley retrieved the electronic key for the cuffs. "Looking for this?"

  She just nodded. "He was going to rape me."

  "Maybe. But you'd say anything now to stay alive," Riley replied.

  "It's the truth! Use your lie detector if you don't believe me."

  Riley just stared at her for a while. "Grud, what a mess!" he sighed, staring at the corpse of his dead partner, the Lawgiver still aimed at Miller. "What are we going to do about this?"

  The carnage on Anton Diffring Overzoom had finally been cleared away and traffic was moving smoothly through 87 once more. Dredd returned to Oswald Mosley, having raced across the sector. He strode inside, not noticing the furtive figure of Riff Maltin lurking in the shadows nearby. The street reporter sidled into the building after Dredd, followed by the hovercam.

  Inside, the lobby was packed with disgruntled residents shouting at each other. Seeing a Judge arrive, they began directing their ire at him instead.

  "One at a time, one at a time!" Dredd commanded, shouting to be heard above the babble of voices. An eldster emerged from the throng, his thinning white hair almost as frazzled as his expression.

  "My name is John Pigott, con-apt 333. You've got to do something about those Citi-Def hooligans, Judge! They've been tearing this block apart searching for some missing child while decent citizens are trying to sleep. I thought there were regulations about how and when the Citi-Def could be mobilised!"

  "There are," Dredd replied. "What about the rest of you? Can you back up what this eldster says?" Another babble of voices filled the air, confirming they shared similar complaints. "Enough!" Dredd shouted before going back to Pigott. "You! Where were these squad members seen last?"

  "Heading for the basement, I think. They were mumbling about breaking open the armoury and issuing weapons. There ought to be a law against it!"

  "There is," Dredd snarled before raising his voice again. "All of you - return to your homes immediately. Anyone still in this lobby when I return will spend the next six months in the cubes. Do I make myself clear?"

  Maltin stepped into a turbolift headed for the upper floors, keeping the crowd of residents between himself and Dredd. The news editor was right - there were enough storeyies inside this one block to keep Channel 27 on air for a month, maybe longer. And all of them were going to be Riff Maltin exclusives...

  In the basement, Conchita was pounding on the door of the Oswald Mosley armoury. Every block had a cache of weapons in an underground bunker, for use by the Citi-Def in the event of a significant threat to the Big Meg. But to prevent the armoury being raided by perps or rogue squads, entry could only be gained with the proper access codes. These were held at the local sector house and were only released with the authorisation of the Chief Judge. The entrance to the armoury was made up of six inches of reinforced steel and rockcrete, proof against almost any force. The thinking behind this was simplicity itself - if you had enough firepower to break into the armoury, you wouldn't need to break in.

  Two-dozen squad members were waiting their turn to attack the door, while those who had already tried and failed were resting against the walls of the basement. "Drokk you, open up!" Conchita screamed at the doorway, her bloody fists flailing against its impervious surface.

  "You're wasting your time," a low, gravely voice boomed. Conchita and the others looked at the staircase. Judge Dredd was walking down the steps, his Lawgiver drawn and ready to fire. "You'll never be able to open the Armoury."

  "We need those weapons!" Billy-Bob Jolie shouted at the lawman.

  "Why?"

  "My daughter has been abducted," Conchita replied, "and your precious Justice Department won't lift a finger to help. So we're helping ourselves."

  "Do you have any evidence your daughter has been abducted?"

  "I don't need evidence!" Conchita fumed. "She's gone and somebody took her. That's all I need to know!"

  Dredd moved through the squad members towards the leader. "I checked the files on your family while travelling here. Several times anonymous callers have accused you of beating your daughter. Perhaps she ran away to escape the violence. Or perhaps you finally went too far and beat her to death. So you panicked, disposed of the body and are now staging all of this as an alibi."

  "How dare you!" she raged. "You have no evidence for those allegations!"

  Dredd almost smiled. "But you just said you don't need evidence to know that your daughter has been abducted. Why should I need evidence to accuse you of beating or even killing her?"

  "I'll kill you myself!" Conchita hissed, lunging at the Judge. Billy-Bob and other squad members held her back.

  "Don't do it, Maguire. He's just trying to bait you!" Billy-Bob hissed.

  "Threatening a Judge is a serious offence," Dredd noted. "I could arrest this citizen here and now."

  "Do that and you'll have a riot on your hands," Conchita said. "You may be a Judge but you're just one man, surrounded by dozens of my squad members. The odds are too great, even for the great Judge Dredd!"

  "Perhaps," he conceded. "But I'm the only one with a gun and that's the way it is going to stay. I want all of you to return to your con-apts and stay there until morning. Once the sun is up, I will personally lead a search for the missing child. But until then I don't want to hear another report of trouble from this block. If I do, I'll be back here to arrest each and every one of you. Consider this an informal curfew. Break it and I'll break you."

  Dredd glared at the squad members, his face utterly implacable. No one spoke, no one challenged his authority.

  "That's better," he said finally. "Now go back to your homes and your families. And remember what I said!"

  The residents began filing out of the basement. Conchita stayed until all the others had gone. "This isn't over," she warned. "Not by a long way."

  "Save it for your followers," Dredd snarled. "I'm not impressed."

  Conchita walked out of the basement, followed by Dredd. As he returned to his Lawmaster a message came through from Control.

  "Dredd, when did you last see Judge Lynn Miller?"

  "In person? Outside Maurice Waldron Block, about two hours ago. Why?"

  "She went off-radio more than an hour past and hasn't reported back in."

  Dredd scowled. "Better list her as missing and alert all Judges in Sector 87 to be-" He stopped in mid-sentence.

  "Control to Dredd, you still there?"

  "Yeah. Just remembering something someone said to me. Forget what I was suggesting. Sector Chief Caine runs 87. Notify her that Miller has gone missing and let her decide what to do about it. I'm just a Street Judge here."

  "That's a roj. Control out!"

  Dredd activated his on-board computer. "Show me the quickest route from my present location to Sector 87's dust zone."

  03:00

  "You'll have to kill me," Miller said. "If you think logically about this, you'll know you have to kill me." She was sitting on one side of Stammers's corpse, her hands still cuffed behind her back. Opposite her Riley was perched on a rockcrete slab, his Lawgiver clasped in one hand. Overhead the moon was beginning to descend across the night sky; the light reflected from its surface threw strange shadows across the dust zone.

  "Don't say that," Riley replied.

  "It's the only logical course of action. I know Stammers supplied the incendiary device that torched Robert Hatch. You're his partner, you must have known about it. Stomm, he said it was your idea!"

  "It wasn't."

  "I know that," Miller said. "You might have looked the other way, but you never enjoyed killing l
ike Stammers, never got the same thrill from it he did."

  "I always told Eustace he'd go too far one day."

  "And you were right. But you should have turned him in, told the SJS what he was doing while you had the chance - while your hands were still clean."

  Riley slipped off his gauntlets and held up his hands. "These? They stopped being clean a long time ago, Lynn."

  "Why? At the Academy you were Roll of Honor material-"

  "That was before Danny died. Everything changed after that."

  "I know," Miller said. "I was there, remember?"

  Riley smiled. "You were my best friend for all those years while we were cadets. I loved you like the sister I never had. But then..."

  "Then you heard about Danny." Miller could not help thinking back to that day. She and Riley had been out in the Cursed Earth, fifteen year-old cadets on their first Hot dog Run. A message pod reached them from the Big Meg about the death of Danny Riley during a battle on the R'qeen homeworld. Miller had watched her friend scream and sob, wanting to ease his suffering in any way possible. That night they were posted together on sentry duty. That was when it had happened; the incident that almost cost both of them their badges.

  "You should never have kissed me," Riley said, staring at his partner's corpse. "I wouldn't have dared to kiss you."

  "You were hurting. I wanted to make you feel better."

  "You did - until Judge Hallvar found us."

  Miller smiled. "The most embarrassing moment of my life..."

  "I didn't mind getting sent back to the city in shame, or losing my place on the honours board or the black mark on my permanent record," Riley said. "What I couldn't stand was the way you were with me afterwards: distant, aloof, as if you didn't want to admit it had ever happened."

  "That was how I felt."

  "But you never asked how I felt, did you? You showed me a brief glimpse of what my life could be like - to be wanted, to be loved - and then you tore it away. You showed me I could break the rules, Lynn... and then nothing!"

  "I'm sorry..." she stammered. "I never knew."