by David Bishop
Now, at the age of forty-one, Werner Summerbee was all but untouchable. His actions affected the lives of millions and his opinion could make or break almost any venture. But what he wanted most of all was a challenge. Just how far could be go before getting caught? Were there any limits left to him? So Summerbee was quietly delighted when woken with news of Dredd's imminent arrival. He dressed in a robe of pure black silk and dabbed a few drops of exquisite scent behind his ears. Satisfied with the foppish effect, Summerbee sauntered into the lounge to meet Dredd.
The room was a sprawling, open plan space with a central area delineated by capacious sofas. The Judge was standing beside one of them, his back ramrod straight, a house droid keeping him company.
"Mr Summerbee," the robot said. "This gentleman insists on seeing you."
"Very well, Giles. You may go for now." Summerbee waited until his house droid had retired from the room before approaching the new arrival. "You must be the legendary Judge Dredd. I've heard so much about you!" Summerbee pulled a slim silver case from his robe pocket and flipped it open to reveal a row of cigarettes inside. "Smoke?"
"The consumption or burning of tobacco is illegal outside authorised smokatoria," Dredd snapped, "as you well know."
"Of course." Summerbee strolled to one of the sofas and flopped down upon it. "I just wanted to see how you would react. Please, take a seat."
"I prefer to stand."
"Have it your own way." The businessman smiled warmly. "Now, how can I help you at this time of the morning? I suppose this isn't a social call."
"Hardly. Werner Summerbee, I have reason to believe you are an accomplice to a serious crime."
"Goodness! Me, involved with a crime? This shall be interesting."
"Less than an hour ago, Judge Riley from Sector House 87 died. Did you know him?" Dredd asked sternly.
"Can't say that I do, but then I meet so many people."
"You don't seem concerned that he's dead."
"In a city this large I'm sure tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands must die every day. It's a shame this poor fellow has passed away, but these things happen - even to Judges."
"Is that a threat, Summerbee?"
"Merely an observation."
"Before dying, Riley named you as a co-conspirator in the arson attack on Robert Hatch Block, an attack that killed hundreds of residents."
Summerbee looked idly at the ceiling. "I do believe I may have seen something about that on tri-D before going to bed. But I certainly know no more about it than that. How can I possibly be a co-conspirator, as you so quaintly put it?"
"Riley said you used him."
"Could you be more specific, Dredd? I've 'used' many people in my time, but that doesn't make me an accomplice to mass murder."
"Riley said you had shown him a file, a confidential Justice Department report about the circumstances surrounding the death of Riley's brother during the colony wars."
"Really? Well, this is a fascinating story but it's all news to me."
"You deny showing Riley this file?"
"I've already told you, I never met this unfortunate so I certainly couldn't have shown him any file. Besides, you say this was a confidential Justice Department document. How could I have access to such data?"
"Your company was the driving force behind efforts to terraform the R'qeen moon, triggering the colony wars. It's not impossible for Summerbee Industries to have obtained such files through bribery and corruption."
The genial smile faded from Summerbee's face. "I would choose your next words very carefully, Dredd. I employ the best lawyers on this planet and a successful slander suit against you could bankrupt this city."
"Is it true one of your companies supplies the new transponders that are being installed on all Justice Department vehicles, including Lawmaster motorcycles?"
"It may well be. Summerbee Industries is an umbrella organisation for dozens of smaller companies. Frankly, I am only aware of a fraction of the business we do. Why do you ask?"
"Before he died Riley disabled the transponder on a Lawmaster with ease - despite the fact most Street Judges are unaware their motorcycles even have such devices fitted."
Summerbee shrugged. "I'm terribly sorry, but I still can't see what that has to do with me."
"Last night a construction droid operated by one of your companies went amok at the corner of Merrison and Currie. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of casualties were averted thanks to the quick action of my partner."
"Well, you must make sure they get a medal for that."
"Why does your company use notoriously unreliable Heavy Metal Kid robots when other construction droids are available?"
Summerbee stood up abruptly. "You'll have to ask the appropriate manager that question, Judge. Now I think I've been more than patient, especially considering the timing of this unannounced visit, but unless you plan to formally arrest me I must ask you to leave. I only have a few hours before my business here is concluded and I fly back to Luna-City."
"So you deny all involvement with the arson attack?"
"Absolutely. Use your birdie on me if you doubt my word."
Dredd grimaced and held up the lie detector concealed in his hand. "I already have. It confirms everything you have said. But that's no surprise, since the device is built and supplied to the department by Summerbee Industries. No doubt you have countermeasures fitted in this building to negate the effectiveness of my birdie."
"Less charitable minds might consider that to be a rather paranoid conclusion," Summerbee said. "Now I must insist you leave. So far I have been most tolerant but that time is past. You have made serious allegations based upon the slightest of circumstantial evidence." Werner smiled. "It must be unusual for you to find someone who cannot be easily intimidated or browbeaten into a confession. Most perps probably give up hope when they see the name on your badge. But I wonder what would happen if you encountered a criminal equal or superior to you?"
"Like you, Summerbee?"
"There you go again - another unfounded allegation! If you had any rockcrete evidence you would arrest me, instead of simply making snide remarks." The billionaire called to his house droid that bustled into the room. "Please escort our visitor to the front door. He is leaving now."
"I don't think so," Dredd replied, pulling handcuffs from his utility belt. "Werner Summerbee, I am arresting you on suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder."
"I'm sorry sir, but I cannot allow you to threaten my master," the droid announced. One of its mechanical hands fell away to reveal a gun barrel inside the arm. "Leave now or I will be forced to terminate you."
Keno had been watching the news broadcasts from Channel 27 with increasing trepidation. She had come to Oswald Mosley with her three broodlings, hoping for a fresh start like the other survivors from the fire. The violent welcome soon put paid to that hope. That fool Nyon seemed intent on stirring up more trouble. They were all stuck here on the top floor, and the only way out was by passing the human residents. Challenge enough people to a fight and some of them will oblige you, or so Keno had been taught by her broodmother. If only Nyon had listened to the same lesson.
It was Conchita's performance that convinced Keno it was time to get out while they still could. The human female seemed to be crying but she had madness and hate in her eyes. Keno went into the next room and roused her three broodlings, Coya, Aldre and Selmak. "Come on, wake up. We're going away on an adventure!" The young R'qeen grumbled about getting up so early but the eldest, Coya, soon took charge of his siblings.
Keno gathered what few belongings they had rescued from their old home at Robert Hatch and pushed these into a carryall. After making sure her offspring were warmly dressed, she opened the front door and led them out into the hall. The nearest turbolift was just round the corner but Nyon was already standing beside it, clamping an electronic pad over the doors.
"What are you doing?" Keno demanded.
"Sealing off the turbolift access," he
r sibling replied. "From now on nobody but us will be allowed up here. It's for our own safety."
"What happens if there's an emergency?"
"We use the stairs like everyone else." Nyon finished his task, only then noticing Keno and her brood were dressed to leave. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know," she admitted, "but anywhere else has to be safer than this place. The humans want blood and your outburst only provoked them further." Keno stretched out her long blue arms to hug her brood closer to her. "Come away with us, Nyon. Don't stay here."
But he shook his head, face set into a frown.
"Then let me take Lleccas and Misch somewhere safe," Keno pleaded. "You might be willing to die here but don't condemn the rest of your family to the same fate!"
"They stay with me. We stay together," Nyon insisted.
"Fine. Be stubborn, like you always are. At least reopen the turbolift so I can get my own brood out."
Nyon pressed a button on the pad he had clamped over the turbolift. The doors sealed themselves together, metal fusing with metal. "You'll have to take the stairs," he said, no hint of apology in his voice.
Keno sighed. "Nyon, when will you learn it's just as brave to walk away from a battle as it is to join one? To fight fools is to let them drag you down to their level." Her sibling did not reply, folding his arms. "Fine, on your own head be it," Keno snapped. "Coya, take Aldre and Selmak round to the emergency stairs. I'll be with you in a moment."
She watched as her eldest son led the other broodlings away before she turned to Nyon for the last time. "Farewell, Nyon. I hope I see you again." Keno kissed him on the cheek before hurrying away. Her brood were waiting at the top of the stairs, a hundred flights spiralling down through the centre of Oswald Mosley. "Coya, you lead the way. Aldre, hold on to Selmak's hand. I'll be right behind you." Keno and her family began the long descent.
"Let's go over your story again."
Jefferson loomed over Miller, who was sat at a table inside the interrogation room. The other SJS Judges were standing either side of the locked door, their faces devoid of emotion.
"It isn't a story, it's the truth, and I've been through it three times already!" Miller protested. "If you don't believe me, go ask Dredd. He should be back from interviewing Summerbee by now."
"Summerbee?" The leader of the SJS trio glanced at her colleagues. "Werner Summerbee?"
"Yes. Dredd said Riley had named Summerbee just before dying."
"Stomm! Why didn't you mention this before?"
Miller rolled her eyes. "Evidence gained by hearsay isn't admissible as a defence against SJS investigation, you should know that by now. Or don't they teach you that at goon squad training school?"
Jefferson turned away, cursing under her breath. "Jefferson to Control, put me through to Dredd." After a few seconds she swore again. "Well if you can't get him, contact SJS HQ. Tell them Operation Werner has been compromised. Send in the troops right away!"
"This is very interesting," Miller said with a smile. "So Summerbee is involved with judicial corruption? I think it's time you started talking yourself, Jefferson."
Billy-Bob was visiting the eighty-second floor for an impromptu meeting of the Citi-Def squad's upper levels representatives. As most con-apts in Oswald Mosley were cramped, it was impractical to gather all one hundred squad members in one place. Instead they divided into four teams of twenty-five. Billy-Bob was leader of the 76-100 team until a new representative from the top floor could be found. Being chosen to lead these two dozen men and women was a proud achievement for Billy-Bob, who had failed to excel in every other aspect of his life. Citi-Def had consumed him, driving away his wife and children; it had taken up every waking moment.
Billy-Bob had called the meeting after hearing about the broadcasts on Channel 27, gathering everyone outside the turbolifts on the eighty-second floor. "By now you've all seen the news about little Kasey Maguire being abducted by those alien freaks on the top floor," he began, to murmurs of assent from the others. "We don't know if she's still alive up there. If she is, I plan to rescue her personally and Grud help the alien who gets in my way. If she ain't alive, Grud help them all up there."
"Billy-Bob?" A long voice spoke out from the others. Aaron shuffled forward, his right hand in the air.
"Aaron, I done told you there's no need to raise your hand. Just say what you want to say - we're listening." That brought a laugh from the others. Pressland might be the biggest among them physically, but he was not the brightest of men. Aaron smiled with them, not realising the joke was at his expense.
"Well, you and Sam and me all searched the top floor and we didn't find no humans up there. Plenty of those blue aliens and some other kinds, but no sign of this missing girl. And that was after she was supposed to have gone up there already. Where can she have been?"
"That's a good question," Billy-Bob conceded. "But those aliens, I've heard tell they can do fancy mind tricks, stranger than any Psi-Judge. So maybe they pulled a swift one on us, to make us think Kasey wasn't there when she was."
The others murmured in their agreement. Who knew what things those offworlders could do to you? "I say we go up there and search the top floor again," Billy-Bob announced, raising his voice over the hubbub. "I say we make those aliens surrender little Kasey Maguire. I say it's time we stopped talking and started fighting back. Are you with me?"
The squad members were nodding and clapping.
"I said, are you with me?" Billy-Bob demanded, raising his voice to a shout. The others shouted back their agreement. "All right, that's better!" their leader yelled. "Now, Aaron tells me those sneaky freaks have locked off turbolift access to the one hundredth floor, so we'll have to find another way up. I want half of you to go up the emergency stairs. The rest of us will go up to ninety-nine in turbolifts and meet you there. Let's do it!"
Keno and her brood had reached the eighty-fifth floor on their long trek down the emergency stairs when shouting voices began to drift up from below. "Sssh, listen!" Coya hissed, stopping his siblings' descent. The voices were calling out in the human language, the words strange but the violent emotions behind them all too evident. "They're coming up towards us," Coya realised.
Keno peered over the edge of the metal banister, down the circular stairwell. Below she could see human faces looking up, their features contorted with anger and hatred. One of them pointed at her and screamed to the others. The humans began running up the stairs, some clutching laser blades and other weapons. Keno shrank back, her worst fears confirmed.
"What do we do?" Coya asked, his face full of concern.
"We go back to the top floor. We'll be safe there," his broodmother decided. "Come, we must hurry!" She picked up Selmak and began carrying him up the stairs, Coya following with Aldre.
But they had only ascended two floors when more human voices could be heard echoing down the stairwell from above, getting ever closer. "We're too late," Keno gasped. "They're above us and below us. We can't get back to the top floor - we're trapped!"
Coya shook his head. "Not yet!" He opened the door to the eighty-seventh floor. "We can go in here and get the turbolift down. Come on!" The R'qeen boy grabbed his sibling and hurried through the doorway to the hallway beyond.
Keno shook her head in dismay. They should have walked down one flights of stairs and then taken the turbolift the rest of the way; she just hadn't thought of it. She prayed that mistake did not cost them dear. Still carrying Selmak, Keno followed her other broodlings. Coya was already running along the hallway. "The turbolifts are just down here!" he shouted.
Billy-Bob had taken the turbolift up to the ninety-ninth floor only to discover the aliens had also barricaded the emergency stairs leading up to the top level. But a shout from below soon erased that disappointment. "We got 'em!" Aaron shouted from below. "They're on the stairs above us!"
"Where are you?" Billy-Bob bellowed back.
"Just passing eighty-three!"
"Keep coming. Drive them
up to us!" Billy-Bob sent the others down ahead of himself. He was about to follow when a thought occurred. What was to stop those freaks leaving the stairs and trying to escape by turbolift? He grinned as the answer came in a flash - he was going to stop them. Gripping his laser-blade tightly, Billy-Bob rushed back to the ninety-ninth floor. The Judges had deemed him too mentally unstable to see active duty in the colony wars. Well, this was his chance to prove them wrong.
Summerbee hurried back into the lounge, now dressed in a business suit and clasping a hastily packed suitcase. "So sorry to keep you waiting," he said to Dredd, "but I hadn't planned on leaving for the Moon until midday. Your intervention has forced my hand, bringing forward my departure from this city."
The Judge was still standing in the same place, but now he had his hands clasped behind his helmet. The house droid kept its weapon trained on him, ready to fire. "You won't get far," Dredd replied. "Control knows where I am. If I don't report in soon, back-up will be despatched to this address."
"Not in time to save you."
"Werner Summerbee!" a voice shouted from outside. "Your residence is surrounded by Justice Department forces. Surrender now or suffer the consequences!"
"You were saying?" Dredd asked, resting his hands on his helmet.
His captor moved to the window and peered out. "Not regular Judges; those look like SJS insignia. How tiresome."
"Take their advice, creep. Give yourself up and you might live long enough to swap this place for an iso-cube."
"A tempting offer but one I must decline," Summerbee replied. "Droid, keep Dredd busy here while I take my leave."
The droid turned to acknowledge its master's command. "Yes, Mr-"
