by David Bishop
Then she met her lover. It happened at a lecture Janet was giving about the rise and fall of Reaganomics, a political movement of great influence to American domestic politics in the 1980s. Most of the audience was comprised of the usual crowd of fellow academics and students, but among them one face caught Janet's attention. Sat towards the back, this person seemed to delight in what Dr Swanson had to say, hanging on her every word. The rest of the audience began to fade away, as if Janet and this lone person were having a private conversation like old friends, sharing their most intimate secrets.
When the lecture concluded. Dr Swanson found herself blushing. The applause from the audience was rapturous and her colleagues had been most complimentary. "Amazingly passionate!" said her assistant, Miles Wilberforce. "I didn't think anyone could get me excited about this topic but you managed it, Janet. Quite, quite remarkable!"
Dr Swanson could recall little else anyone said afterwards. She had been too busy searching the crowd for that figure from the back row, the person with whom she had experienced such a strong connection. But the person was nowhere to be found, having slipped away into the night. Janet felt a gnawing sense of loss, far stronger than the faint wisps of grief left by her parents' passing. Somehow Dr Swanson knew she would never be complete until she found that person again. What surprised her most about the experience was the gender of her beloved. Without realising it, Janet had fallen in love at first sight with another woman.
Dr Swanson was not a virgin. There had been a messy, fumbled incident with one of her male lecturers while studying at Mega-U and a brief encounter with a crusty Brit-Cit professor when they both attended a symposium in Hondo City. But those were fleeting, meaningless moments where she acquiesced to the desires of others, thinking it would be impolite to say no. Her own sexuality had remained unknown, an untapped well of feelings and needs. She had pushed aside fantasies as girlish and immature idylls. She had her work. That was her life. She would not let herself be ruled by base, animal desires.
Her lover had changed all that. Janet had arrived at the Dustbuster late the following morning, having spent a sleepless night thinking about what had happened. For the first time she let herself imagine what it might be like to share herself with another woman. To kiss those luscious red lips, to feel her hands caressing another woman's body and be touched too. To undress and stand naked, to be unashamed and wanting. Janet was surprised to experience no guilt, no doubt about what she felt. It seemed utterly natural and inevitable, as if a part of herself long missing had been discovered at last.
The woman was waiting for Janet outside her office at the museum. She was wearing a taut, black leathereen dress, her angular face framed by jet black hair cut into a bob. Seeing Janet approaching, the woman smiled and offered a handshake. "Hello, my name is Kay. I enjoyed your lecture last night, but had to hurry away afterwards to a prior commitment. So I decided to come here and tell you how I felt in person. I hope you don't mind."
Dr Swanson realised she was turning crimson again and hung her head in embarrassment. "No, not at all. I'm glad you did."
Kay had looked at Janet with dark, piercing eyes. "Are you blushing? I didn't think people still did that."
Janet said nothing, just shook her head.
Kay slipped off one of the black leathereen gloves she was wearing and gently tipped Janet's head up to the light. "Don't be embarrassed, it's quite charming. You shouldn't hide your face away, especially not one so beautiful."
"You'll make me blush again," Janet replied giddily.
"Nonsense!" Kay moved to stand beside Dr Swanson and slid her hand around the curator's elbow. "Tell you what, why don't you give me a tour of the museum? I've never been round the 1980s and I suspect you will make the perfect guide. That is, if you're not too busy."
Janet had looked into Kay's face and felt herself melting. She knew she would never be able to refuse this woman anything. "It'll be my pleasure. Where would you like to start?"
Kay gave her elbow a squeeze. "Let's just begin with the tour. We can save the real pleasure for later."
They got as far as the Evil Empire display before Janet felt an irresistible urge. She dragged this woman about whom she knew so little into an alcove and began kissing her passionately. But after a few moments Janet realised Kay wasn't kissing her back. The curator broke away, confused and ashamed. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I thought..."
Kay smiled and pointed up at the security cameras. "Are you sure we should be doing this in front of all those eyes?"
Janet waved away such concerns. "They're just for show. The museum can't afford to maintain them, so only the most valuable exhibits are covered."
Kay arched an eyebrow at this news, licking her lips. "In that case..."
They made love in a dark corner, Dr Swanson experiencing a pleasure she had never previously known. At one stage a tour party wandered past the nearby exhibit, forcing the two women to pause their frantic movements. Janet tried to pull away from Kay but found herself unable to resist the other woman's urgings. "What if somebody sees us?" the curator asked helplessly, suddenly aware of how few of her clothes she was still wearing.
Kay grinned wickedly. "They should be so lucky."
Janet bit her bottom lip, suppressing the urge to cry out in ecstasy.
All that had been five months ago. Since then the two women had spent many nights in each other's arms. They slept at Janet's con-apt, Kay always taking the initiative in arranging the next meeting. Janet felt besotted when they were together, bewitched by the power of her lust for the other woman. Only when they were apart for more than a few days did Dr Swanson begin to question the relationship. Kay refused to let Janet know where she lived, or give her a way of making contact. Kay said it kept the passion alive, helped her maintain an air of mystery. To rational, sensible Dr Swanson that seemed like an excuse, something to hide behind. But when Janet was with Kay, she never entertained such thoughts. She was too busy with other endeavours.
After they had been lovers for a month, Kay revealed a little about herself. She was personal assistant to an influential businessman and philanthropist, Jesus Bludd. He planned to make a very generous donation to the museum, at Kay's urging. In return Bludd asked only for free tickets to visit the Evil Empire exhibition on the day of his choice. Janet had been more than happy to oblige, especially when the donation of half a million credits arrived at the museum.
Bludd's visit had been somewhat perturbing for Dr Swanson. He treated Kay more like his property than his employee, and seemed to sneer at the two women's obvious affection for each other. Janet had just been happy to see a little more of her lover's secret life. But after that day their assignations became less and less frequent, Kay more perfunctory in her lovemaking, as if she were just going through the motions. Janet cried herself to sleep at night, worrying about losing the only person she had ever loved. She began losing weight, rarely ate more than one meal a day and became slack about paying attention to her job. Janet was falling apart, one piece at a time.
Then came the worst day of Dr Swanson's life, the day she discovered the truth about Kay, the day she discovered the truth about herself. After that, nothing would ever be the same again.
Dredd's Lawmaster roared to a halt outside the Dustbuster. He strode inside, taking the turbolift to the forty-second floor. The grim-faced Judge emerged in the 1980s area and abruptly stopped, recognition making his expression even more sullen. He had seen this particular exhibition area before.
"Dredd? Over here!" A female Judge was standing next to a barren display space, her helmet tucked under one arm. Brown, curly hair tumbled down around her freckled features. As Dredd approached, the Judge introduced herself. "Langenkamp. I was first on the scene."
Dredd gestured towards the empty exhibition. "What's missing?"
"The Evil Empire. It depicted the old United States' command and control centre for weapons of mass destruction. Even had an animatronic President getting ready to launch nucle
ar war. Quite popular, apparently."
Dredd nodded. "I know. Bludd came to see it four months ago, the day Ryan was inserted into the crime boss's organisation." He paused. "Where's the body?"
Langenkamp jerked a thumb at a corner of the exhibition space where forensic specialists were examining something on the floor. Beyond them stood the doors of another turbolift marked DISPLAYS ONLY. "We think the perps took the exhibit out using the museum's goods elevator."
"What did the security cameras capture?"
"Nothing. They weren't switched on in here today," Langenkamp replied, rolling her eyes. "Seems the museum has been skimping on aspects of its budget. Nobody expected a theft from this display. It was deemed low risk."
"But the cameras were working the day Bludd came to visit."
"Only because PSU asked for access to the video feed for this area."
"Terrif," Dredd growled. "This was probably an inside job. There was a curator here when Bludd did his tour, a woman. Where is she now?"
Langenkamp sighed. "Dr Janet Swanson, she's in her office, down that corridor. But take it gently with her, Dredd. She seems to have suffered some sort of emotional breakdown. There's a Psi-Judge with her now, trying to put the pieces back together."
Dredd scowled. "We haven't got time to take it gently. Bludd has been planning this raid for months, keeping us guessing. We need to know exactly what has been taken and why!"
The forensic Judges had finished their on-sight examination of Ryan's headless corpse. They were just lifting the cadaver on to a hover-stretcher when Dredd joined them outside the turbolift doors. He pulled back the sheet covering the remains and glared at the body, the neck severed by a cauterised slice mark. "DNA match?" Dredd asked the nearest Tek-Judge.
"It's Ryan, no doubt about it. But why did they dump the body here?"
"Bludd is sending us a message," Dredd replied. "He wants us to know who was behind this theft and this murder. But I guarantee you won't find a shred of evidence here or on Ryan's body that links Bludd to either crime. He's too smart for that."
The Tek-Judge pulled the sheet back over the corpse. "He's taunting us."
SIX
Psi-Judge Karyn regarded the Dustbuster's curator sadly. It had taken almost an hour of coaxing to prise the tear-stained tale out of Dr Swanson. The poor woman was almost catatonic when Karyn started, her psyche shattered by an attack so vicious it beggared belief. A lifetime of therapy would be needed for Janet to recover from what had been done to her and even then she would never be able to reclaim the life she had once enjoyed. The curator was a numb, broken woman with no fight left in her when Dredd entered the office.
Karyn hurriedly escorted him back outside and shut the door to keep Swanson from hearing her verdict. When Dredd objected, the Psi-Judge hushed him into silence.
"Somebody has done a job on that woman like nothing I've ever seen before; total character annihilation," Karyn explained in a whisper. "The last thing she needs now is you shouting at her."
"When will she be able to talk?" he hissed. Karyn didn't need to be a psychic to sense his boiling anger and frustration.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I've got the gist of what's been happening to her. The fine details will have to wait."
Dredd looked past Karyn through a window into Dr Swanson's office. The curator was crouched over in a chair, her arms locked round her knees, rocking slowly backwards and forwards. "Tell me what you can."
Karyn leaned against a wall in the corridor, pushing her copper red curls out of her face. She outlined Dr Swanson's love affair, how the arrival of the woman known only as Kay turned the curator's life upside down. "From the description it's clear this Kay was Kara, Bludd's right-hand woman. She must be a powerful psyker to ruthlessly and effectively manipulate Swanson's emotions and actions on such a scale."
"We don't know much about her," Dredd admitted. "Kara appeared at Bludd's side last year and is his most trusted confidante. She's also his enforcer, doing Bludd's dirtiest work."
"Well, she's done quite a job on Swanson. From what I can glean it was simply a ruse to gain access to information about the museum and the Evil Empire exhibition in particular." Karyn frowned, still coming to terms with the horror show inside the curator's mind. "Kay, I mean Kara turned up today with several associates, leaving the headless corpse and taking the exhibit. Just before leaving, Kara set off a mind-bomb inside the curator's head, scrambling half her memories and letting Swanson know how she had been manipulated and used from start to finish. That bitch destroyed the curator, just for fun." Karyn paused to let the Tek-Judges removing Ryan's corpse pass. "There's something else, Dredd; a gap in Swanson's mind."
"Explain."
"It's as if someone has ripped a tiny section out of the curator's memory, like tearing a page from a book. I could read everything leading up to and following on from that section, but the missing part is a void, a blank."
"Can you tell what's missing from the context?"
Karyn shrugged helplessly. "I'll have to go back inside Swanson's mind, have another look. I can't promise anything."
"Try," Dredd urged. "I'm going to interview the curator's colleagues, see what they know. Langenkamp has them in the staff room."
Minutes later, Miles Wilberforce was learning the meaning of regret. He had been complaining about being locked inside the cramped staff room with nearly thirty other museum workers. "Why are we being kept here like prisoners? We've done nothing wrong! My shift finished more than an hour ago, I should be at home by now. Instead we're stuck in this shoebox of a room, with no explanations and no apologies. Well I've had enough! I want to speak with somebody in authority and I want to do so now! In fact, I demand it!"
Dr Swanson's assistant had worked himself up into a fit of self-righteous pique, trying to goad his colleagues into action. "Look at you all - sheep! None of you knows what is going on but you all sit there meekly, accepting what the Judges tell you to do, never having the nerve to stand up for yourselves. Well I'm going to show you exactly who's in charge here!"
Wilberforce strode to the door and pulled it open. Standing on the other side was the imposing figure of Dredd, gently tapping his daystick against a gauntlet-clad hand.
"You were saying?"
"I demand to be allowed to leave," Wilberforce replied, trying to keep a tremble out of his voice. "You have no right to keep us in here like cattle!"
Dredd lifted his daystick and used the rounded end to nudge Wilberforce in the chest, sending the assistant back a step into the staff room. "Don't talk to me about rights, punk." The Judge gave Wilberforce another nudge with each successive sentence. "You have no rights as far as I'm concerned. You don't have the right to remain silent. You don't have the right to an attorney. You don't have the right to a trial, fair or otherwise. All you need to know is that I am Judge, jury and - if necessary - executioner."
Dredd gave the assistant a final, hard jab in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor. The other staff members were cowering against the walls; meek museum workers trying to keep as far from Dredd's wrath as possible. "I dispense instant justice. Unless you creeps want a taste of that, I suggest you start giving me answers. Now, which one of you punks is Dr Swanson's assistant?"
The other staff all pointed accusingly at Wilberforce.
"I might have known," Dredd snarled. He pointed at the open doorway with his daystick. "Out in the corridor. Now." Once they were both in the hallway, Dredd closed the door behind him before turning his attention to Wilberforce. "Tell me about the Evil Empire exhibition. What's so special about it?"
"I'm not sure I understand the question," Swanson's assistant replied.
"Don't try my patience," Dredd warned. "Why would someone want to steal the exhibit?"
Wilberforce paled. "It's been stolen? But that's impossible. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Well, only Dr Swanson has all the information necessary to remove and reactivate the system. She's still he
re, isn't she?" Wilberforce looked along the corridor to his boss's office. "She was being interviewed in her room."
"What are you talking about? What system?" Dredd demanded.
"The computer system for the command and control exhibit. Only Dr Swanson knows all the data to reactivate it."
"Reactivate it? How can you reactivate a replica?"
"Oh, grud," Wilberforce murmured. "You don't know..."
Dredd grabbed the assistant by the neck and lifted him bodily off the ground. "Enough with the mumbling, punk. What don't I know?"
Wilberforce choked out his reply between gasps for air. "The command and control system. It's not a replica, it's the real thing."
Dredd released Wilberforce. The assistant curator slumped to the floor, choking and coughing as he explained. "It was decommissioned and removed from the White House in the early twenty-first century and put into storage after being superseded by more advanced systems. But some of the weapons it controlled are still active."
"Who else knows about this?" Dredd demanded.
"Dr Swanson, obviously. The museum's board of directors. Our security advisors at Red Inc. That's about it."
"Red Inc provides security advice?"
"Yes. They got the contract a few months ago when Dr Swanson-"
Dredd opened the door to the staff room and threw Wilberforce back inside. After ordering another Judge to stand guard outside the door, Dredd hurried back to Swanson's office. Karyn was emerging, a worried look on her face. She saw Dredd approaching. "I'm not sure I've got this right, but if it's accurate then we've got a serious problem," she said. Dredd outlined what he had discovered from Wilberforce.
