by David Bishop
"I catch your drift, daddio!" Max interrupted. "Death and maiming, nothing pretty. Are they the main features on this double-bill of doom?"
Mr Rogan listened for another thirty seconds before Bonjo finally ran out of ranting. "In short, yes."
Max smiled. "I think there's something about me your uncool cat of a client ought to know. Back in the day I used to perform a valuable service for a certain stone-faced enforcer of the Law. Maybe you've heard of him, Dredd? Judge Dredd? That name ring any bells?"
Bonjo and Mr Rogan conversed in their native tongue before replying. "We know of this Dredd; a formidable warrior. But he is not here, so we do not fear you. Prepare to die screaming in an agony beyond imagination."
The pinstripe freak shrugged. "Have it your own way, my alien adversary." He dropped into a martial arts stance, ready to fight. But before Bonjo could attack, Max straightened up again. "There's just one other thing you should know before we turn the violence dial up to ultra."
Mr Rogan sighed in exasperation. "Now what?"
"Have I told you dudes my personal combat philosophy?"
"Not yet, but I'm sure you will."
"Those who run away, live to fight another day," Max said.
Mr Rogan translated this to Bonjo but had some difficulty finding suitable Rexellian words for part of the statement. Eventually the interpreter turned back to Max.
"Please explain the phrase 'run away'."
Normal smiled. "I can do better than that. Let me demonstrate it for you."
The small alien perched on Bonjo's shoulder smiled. "If you would be so kind, Bonjo would appreciate it muchly."
"My pleasure," Max said. "It goes something like this..." As he fled the shuggy hall, Max shouted an apology to the terrified manager. "I suggest you call the Judges, my man, and make it sharpish! Tell them Max Normal, the dude who dresses formal, needs their help!"
Hershey was sat behind the vast desk in her office near the top level in the Grand Hall of Justice. Behind her, a mighty sculpture of an eagle dominated the wall, while on either side of the desk, windows reached from the ceiling to the floor, offering spectacular views across the surrounding sectors. The Chief Judge was deep in thought when Dredd arrived.
"You sent for me, ma'am."
Hershey did not reply immediately, her fingers formed into a steeple in front of her face. Eventually Dredd cleared his throat to get her attention. "Sorry, Dredd," she said. "I was contemplating my strategy for tomorrow's talks."
"Today's talks," Dredd noted. "It's gone midnight."
"Already?" Hershey rose from her chair and walked to one of the windows. "You've heard what we discussed at the Council of Five, no doubt."
"Yes, ma'am."
"What do you think?"
Dredd hesitated before replying. "It's not for me to pass judgement-"
"I'm not asking you to! I simply wanted your opinion."
"Bludd represents a significant threat," Dredd replied. "Unlike most of his rivals, he stays in the background, keeps his hands clean. To flush him out like this, it indicates the treaty must have a good chance of becoming reality."
"I meant about the security measures for the opening session," Hershey snapped. "Have we done enough to ensure safety for the delegates?"
"You've done all you can, without compromising the Law in other parts of the city." Dredd joined her by the window. "Why do you ask?"
Hershey sighed. "Since I joined the Council of Five, I dreamed of sitting in the big chair. I knew I would have to make tough choices, be willing to send men and women to their deaths. When I finally become Chief Judge, I was ready for it. But nothing prepares you for the reality of being responsible for an entire city. Every day there's a thousand decisions to be made. Every moment of every hour, somebody wants something from you. Everyone expects you to choose for them, to know what to do next, to be ready to pass judgement." Her words stumbled to a halt, the Chief Judge's head sagging forwards as she rested one hand against the glasseen window. "I just get so tired."
"Now you know why I never wanted the job," Dredd said quietly. "Being a street Judge, it's all I know. I never had your ambition."
Hershey smiled at that. "And look where it's got me." She straightened up again and returned to her desk. "No matter. The negotiations go ahead, as planned. If Bludd thinks he can take on the might of the Justice Department by attacking this building, he's got another thing coming. I won't be dictated to or threatened by anyone, least of all a crime boss who hides behind his underlings."
Dredd nodded approvingly. "What about Ryan?"
She shrugged. "We can't pull him out now. Even if we were able, that would certainly tip our hand. Ryan will have to look after himself. If he gets caught in the crossfire... well, that's a necessary sacrifice."
"Agreed." Dredd began to leave but stopped at the door. "If it's any comfort, Hershey, you're the best Chief Judge this city has had in twenty years."
She sat down in her chair again. "Maybe. But I've been lucky so far. The Big Meg hasn't faced anything to match the likes of Necropolis or Sabbat's zombie army or the Doomsday gambit Nero Narcos launched. Anybody can look good being Chief Judge during times of peace. It's how you respond in a real crisis that separates the best from the rest."
FOUR
It was dawn when Giant began transporting the delegates from their respective safe houses to the Grand Hall of Justice. Originally all five were to have appeared with Hershey in a celebratory parade through the Big Meg's streets; a propaganda exercise to show the rest of the world how seriously these negotiations were being taken. But Dredd cancelled the parade within five minutes of assuming control of security for the treaty talks. "Save the celebrations until after we've got a treaty signed," had been his exact words.
It was also Dredd who ordered Giant to rouse the delegates from their beds earlier than planned. "We believe Bludd is planning to attack the Grand Hall of Justice just as the negotiations begin. However-"
Giant finished the thought off. "However, that doesn't preclude his people trying to eliminate the delegates before they even reach it."
"Right. Get them all to the venue ahead of schedule and keep 'em there. None of our 'honoured guests' leave without my say so. Is that clear?"
So as the sun rose over the Black Atlantic, Giant was trying to get the delegates to rise from their beds. He started with Representative Chang. According to the Judges stationed outside her private quarters, the diminutive delegate from Sino-Cit had remained quietly inside all night. She had brought her own food and drink, sought no help from her guards and turned off the lights not long after dusk. Guess we should be grateful for that, Giant thought to himself, ruefully recalling the previous day's travails with the other delegates.
He knocked on the door to Chang's quarters. Within moments she was standing before him, already fully dressed in her uniform, looking at him with curiosity. "Yes? Is something wrong?"
"We're taking all the delegates in early," Giant replied. "To avoid traffic."
The Sino-Cit woman arched an eyebrow at him. "How... interesting." She looked back into her bedroom. Giant could have sworn it was tidier than before Chang had arrived. The delegate turned back to him. "Good. I am ready." She followed Giant to an H-wagon waiting outside the safe house and climbed in. "Where are the others?" Chang asked.
Giant smiled weakly. "We're collecting them en route but..."
"But?"
"They may not be ready quite so promptly as you."
Chang nodded sombrely. "I am not surprised."
Giant gave orders for the pilot to move on to the next safe house, where Judge Warner had no doubt spent an uncomfortable night recovering from his close encounter with the pleasure mech. The Med-Judges' report said the Brit-Cit delegate should suffer no lasting disability, but he would be walking bow-legged for a few days until the bruising subsided. That should make getting him into the H-wagon fun, Giant thought, rolling his eyes at what was to come.
Ryan woke to find the
horrifically scarred face of Di leaning over him. "What the drokk? What do you want? What are you looking at?"
"Just admiring your skin," she replied, reaching out a hand to stroke the juve's left cheek. The once beautiful woman was sat on the side of Ryan's bed, dressed in a one-piece black catsuit of reinforced leathereen. "Mr Bludd is offering us a generous bonus if we succeed in today's mission - for those who make it back alive. I'm thinking of spending mine on skin grafts, if I can find a donor."
"Why don't you just go to a face change clinic?"
"Their machines can't cope with the sort of damage my features suffered." Di grabbed one of Ryan's hands and pressed it against the ruined side of her face. "Feel that? Like someone used a cheese grater and a blowtorch on me at the same time."
Ryan pulled his hand away hurriedly, repelled by the texture of melted skin beneath his fingers. "What did you mean, find a donor?"
Di smiled. At least, the normal half of her face curved into a smile. The scarred side was caught in a permanent grimace, unable to show emotions. "To replace such a large surface area, one that's constantly on display, you need to take skin grafts from another person's face. Of course, there's not many people alive desperate enough to sacrifice their face for mine."
The juve felt his skin crawl as he realised what Di was hinting at. "So you were examining my face, in case I die during the attack, and you might want it for yourself?"
"Hmmm," Di agreed. "Lovely and soft. Of course, I'd need to get all your hair follicles removed - don't want to start sprouting a beard on one side, do I?"
"No, I suppose not," Ryan said. He sat up in bed, clutching the sheets firmly around his waist. The juve had spent most of an hour retching after witnessing the sudden and messy death of Skyhook the previous night. Afterwards, Kara had escorted him to a private bedroom just off the main area of the penthouse. A troubled night's sleep was haunted by nightmares about exploding heads and worse, leaving Ryan feeling more tired than before he had gone to bed. The juve decided to direct some of his anger at Di.
"Did you have a reason for waking me? Or was this a social call for some face touching?"
"Keep your u-fronts on!" Di stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her catsuit.
"You're to put on the clothes supplied and report to the briefing room within ten minutes. Don't be late." She was already walking out by the time Ryan shouted a question after her.
"What clothes?"
As the bedroom door swung shut he saw a black tunic and trousers hung on the back, cut from the same toughened material as Di's catsuit. Ryan wondered how Bludd had known what size he was.
I know what size you are, Kara's voice replied inside the juve's mind. I know everything about you. Now get dressed!
As dawn broke, Dredd was supervising the deployment of Manta-tanks and H-wagons at the perimeter of the exclusion zone. In the distance the Grand Hall of Justice shone in the morning light, sun reflecting off the mighty building. It was a symbol of order and the Law, a potent representation of the power held by the Judges. To attack the Grand Hall was to attack the Law itself, to invite anarchy and chaos into this city. If Bludd should succeed, there was no knowing where the consequences would lead the Big Meg.
By eight in the morning Dredd appeared satisfied with the arrangement of defences. He had bawled out half a dozen Manta-tank drivers for sloppy placement and sent one H-wagon to the West Wall in disgrace after the pilot arrived too late to take his place in the formidable formation. The pilot, a young female Judge called Roker, tried to explain why she had been delayed.
"There was a fire at F Martin Candor Block and Citi-Def asked for our help, so we thought-" she began.
"You thought? You thought?" Dredd snarled, leaning into Roker's face. "I doubt you've either the wit or wisdom to think! Who is responsible for ensuring the safety of these negotiations: the Citi-Def squad of F Martin Candor Block, or me?"
"You are, sir," Roker mumbled.
"And did you ask my permission for this little diversion?"
"No, sir, but we assumed-"
"Assumed? Assumed?!?" Dredd stepped back, shaking his head. When he spoke again his voice had dropped to a growl. "Get out of my sight."
"Excuse me, sir, but where do you want us to-"
Dredd sneered. "Go patrol the West Wall. Perhaps they can find a use for you. But remember this day, Roker. Remember the humiliation. If you ever disobey an order again, I'll have your badge for breakfast and you can join the precious Citi-Def, since you seem so fond of them. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Roker snapped into a salute and scurried back to her H-wagon, accompanied by the rest of her crew. Word of what happened quickly spread among all those assigned to security for the extradition treaty talks. For the rest of the morning Dredd's word was treated like a proclamation from grud himself, each unit responded with verve and lightning speed. Nobody wanted to face Dredd's wrath.
"Good morning! I'm Enigma Smith and you're watching Mega-City News, the place to be if you want to see the news, the whole news and nothing but the news! Today's bulletins are brought to you by Sump's Pus Capsules®, the goo that's best for you, and Grot Pot Hotties[tm] - all the flavour of a grot pot encased in a synthetic sausage skin and shoved between two buns!"
Enigma grinned at the cameras with a smile some might consider a deadly weapon. Certainly anyone who persisted in grinning so incessantly on the pedways and skedways of the Big Meg was likely to get themselves killed. The newsreader delivered the latest headlines with her usual breathless enthusiasm. "At noon today our own Chief Judge Hershey will begin talks with delegates from five other Justice Departments as part of her initiative to develop a global extradition treaty. A parade planned for this morning that would have featured the representatives has, however, been cancelled. The Judges denied this was due to any fears of assassination attempts by criminal elements. According to the official explanation, the parade was cancelled due to road works shutting several of the main skedways approaching the Grand Hall of Justice, where the talks are to be held."
"But not all celebrations have been cancelled for today. The Mega-City Museum of the Twentieth Century - more commonly known as the Dustbuster - has announced it will be hosting a massive pyrotechnic display of fireworks tonight, to mark the end of the Evil Empire exhibition. The Dustbuster's curator, Dr Janet Swanson, says the show has been a surprise success for the cash-strapped museum. The firework display will be one of the largest ever seen in the sky above the Big Meg and should be visible across the entire city. When asked who was funding this extravaganza, Dr Swanson said it was thanks to a donation from a private individual who did not wish to be named.
"Last but not least, the staff of Emporio Kneepad are still scratching their heads over what happened to their store last night. The high fashion shoppera on the corner of Cartier and Klugman was apparently attacked by two drunks in a stolen hoverpod. Bystanders claim that Judge Dredd was responsible for removing those responsible from the scene, but the Justice Department says no charges have been issued nor arrests made over the incident. In a minute we'll have sports headlines with Shamus McGinty, including news about a hot new alien shuggy player in town. But first, a word from our sponsors..."
Giant delivered the five delegates to the Grand Hall of Justice by 10:00 am, several hours after collecting Chang from her accommodation. It had taken that long to extract the other representatives from their various slumbers, Judges Bruce and Smirnoff proving particularly difficult to shift. Giant was eventually forced to call for medical assistance, having the man from East-Meg Two injected with enough stimulants to wake the dead. Smirnoff was still twitching and convulsing when the H-wagon approached the edge of the exclusion zone.
The flying vehicle was forced to land and everyone inside was submitted to rigorous security checks before being allowed inside the zone. Giant talked with Dredd nearby while the search was made. "I see Hershey's taking the planned attack by the Bludd Group seriously."
The senior Judg
e nodded towards the H-wagon. "Those creeps give you any trouble this morning?"
"Just getting them moving. Warner hasn't stopped bitching about his injuries from yesterday, while the other three men have got flaming hangovers."
"What about our inscrutable friend from Sino-Cit?"
"Chang? Sits and watches, observing everything, saying almost nothing. The Chief Judge is going to have a tough time with that one," Giant said. He got a signal from the search party to confirm the H-wagon was good to go. "Wish I could be here with you on the front line when the attack comes. Hershey wants me to keep close to the delegates."
"Better you than me," Dredd commented. "Tact and diplomacy. I'm not sure they were on the syllabus when I went to the Academy."
The strike team was split between two sleek, black hoverpods: Ryan and Kara going in the first vehicle with Fincher as pilot, while Di, Angry Sanderson and Tattoo Sue followed close behind. Bludd had not been present at the final briefing. Ryan guessed the crime boss was trying to keep his distance from the attack, to maintain denial of culpability. Kara instead had outlined their strategy.
"As we suspected, the Judges have created a massive exclusion zone around the Grand Hall of Justice. They are expecting an attack and we are going to give them one, but not in the way they expect. We'll be using hoverpods with stealth technology, that should give us an edge when we approach the perimeter. The first vehicle's job will be to breach the boundary and draw any fire. Once the Judges focus their attack on the first vehicle, the second hoverpod will penetrate the exclusion zone and begin its attack run."
Ryan asked the obvious question. "Knowing the department's love of overkill, how will the first hoverpod survive long enough to provide a diversion?"
