by David Bishop
"Get them!"
The 76-100 leader began firing randomly, his Deathbringer swinging through the air, bullets indiscriminately puncturing R'qeen and human. The others began shooting too, screams and gunfire filling air already crowded with cries of pain and death.
The other bat-gliders still in the air were also watching, unsure how to react. "What do we do, Aaron?" one of them asked.
The big man floated above the melee. He had never wanted this, never expected to see active duty. For him the Citi-Def was a way of making friends. "Stand down," he said. "We can't help them now."
"But you can't leave them!"
"Watch me," Aaron replied and let one wing dip. He glided away in a slow spiral, descending to the deserted skedway one hundred storeys below. A few stayed above the battle scene watching impotently, but the rest followed Aaron's example. They might not like having aliens in the block but it wasn't a cause worth dying for.
Billy-Bob had lost his Deathbringer and was now down to just a kitchen laser. He passed it back and forth between his hands as he retreated towards the glasseen window. The alien leader was closing in on him, its lips pulled back in a cruel mockery of a smile to reveal row upon row of teeth.
"Stay back!" Billy-Bob warned. "I know how to use this thing!"
"So do I," Nyon replied in halting English. "My brood shall feast on your remains for many weeks, human."
"Drokk you!" Billy-Bob screamed and threw himself at the alien.
When Dredd reached the con-apt the floor was soaked red with blood. The walls were studded with bullet holes and scorch marks, while the room was strewn with severed limbs and corpses. One of the R'qeen was still alive, just. It gestured to Dredd who approached, stepping carefully through the carnage. "Too... late..." Nyon gasped. "You're... too late... human..." Then he said no more.
The Judge activated his helmet radio. "Dredd to Control, I've reached the top floor of Oswald Mosley. Citi-Def got in here, looks like they came by bat-glider. There was a pitched battle - plenty of casualties on both sides. I'll investigate the rest of the rooms for survivors. Where's that back-up?"
"Just arriving now."
Miller had the transporter stop just short of Oswald Mosley. "We go the rest of the way on foot," she told her strike team. They were all clad in a double-layer of body armour, with Widowmaker assault rifles at the ready. "No point giving these Citi-Def bozos any big targets to fire at. Spread out and move in."
The Judges jumped out of the vehicle and began advancing on their target. Miller had the three best long-range shots stay at the perimeter of the nearest building, Enoch Powell Block. "I want you scanning the windows for snipers. If you see anyone firing from inside, take them out. Shoot to kill." The trio nodded grimly and moved off to find the best vantage points. "The rest of you: keep it tight but don't get bunched up. I'll lead."
Miller emerged from cover and started running towards Oswald Mosley, zigzagging from side to side as she did. Shots began ringing out from the upper floors, but the snipers were soon eliminated by Miller's sharpshooters. She was across the open space in thirty seconds, the remainder of her strike team following. Within a minute all twenty-two Judges were in the lobby.
"Turbolifts are locked down so we take the stairs, two by two," their leader said. "This is going to get bloody but we're not taking any prisoners. If it moves, shoot it. Last one to the ninety-ninth floor has to help carry out the bodies. Let's move!"
Dredd found five unconscious aliens in the hundredth floor's central circular corridor. He recognised one of them as an arthropod, no doubt from Andromeda IV. The others were all from another species, their bodies covered in thick hair, prominent ridges running down the centre of their faces.
"Dredd to Control, I've located five alien survivors in Oswald Mosley. Looks like the concussion gas kept them out of the fighting. Am continuing my search of the top floor."
The Judge began moving cautiously onward when a gasp from nearby stopped him. Somebody else was alive up here.
Misch could feel the intruder getting closer. She was leaning against the door of the dark chamber. Behind her Lleccas, still clutching the laser-knife, was guarding the other broodlings and Kasey. Misch concentrated herself on the approaching human.
She had sensed her broodfather's death and the loss of so many others, both R'qeen and human. It was an ugly thing that had happened. Misch did not know if she would even recover from the shock of what she had felt. But her gift was important, it could help keep the rest of them alive.
The human who was approaching was ready to kill, she could sense that, but there was something else clouding his thoughts. Unable to easily discern them, Misch reached out with her senses.
Too many dead already - wasted lives.
Need to find the others.
That sound - is the girl here after all?
Wait, something else - something in my head!
Get out! Get out of my mind!
Misch fell backwards, as if she had been punched. She cried out as her head hit the ground with a thump. No, no, she thought, I've given us away! The door was ripped open, and light flooded in, temporarily blinding those inside. Standing over them was an imposing figure, weapon drawn and ready to fire.
Lleccas stood up, brandishing the laser-knife. "You shall not take them," she screeched in R'qeen. "I will die killing you before that happens!"
The human took a step forwards to confront Lleccas.
"No, wait!" Misch cried out in Allspeak. Her broodmother and the human stopped. "He's here to help us, I can feel it!"
Dredd touched a hand to his helmet. "You were the one in my head."
The R'qeen girl approached him. "Yes. I had to know whether you wanted to hurt us." She took his hand in her own, the green gauntlet dwarfing her three small fingers. "Thank you for rescuing us."
Dredd looked around the room. "Are there any more elsewhere?"
"No," Lleccas replied in Allspeak. "We are the last." She rested a kindly hand on her broodling's head. "Misch told us what happened to my pairling Nyon and the others."
The Judge began to usher them out into the circular corridor. "We need to evacuate all of you, the sooner the better. The Citi-Def has already launched one attack on this floor and failed, their leader will be getting desperate. There's no telling what she'll try to do next." He reactivated his helmet radio. "Dredd to Control, I've located the last of the aliens. Immediate evac required!"
"No can do, Dredd. Caine is keeping the no-fly zone in place."
"Put me through to her!"
Conchita and Riff had reached the ninety-ninth floor, the reporter left breathless by the long climb. Conchita had gathered a dozen Citi-Def members on the way up, ordering the rest to defend the stairwell below. She was dismayed to discover the emergency access door to the top floor was still impassable.
"I had hoped Billy-Bob and his bat-gliders would take care of this for me," Conchita scowled. She tried to contact them but the aerial wing's radio channel remained silent. "Typical, have to do everything myself. Pass me that carryall." From inside the bag Conchita pulled out a rubbery grey brick and a fistful of wires. She clamped the brick to the side of the door near the hinges and began plunging wires into it.
"What's that?" Riff asked, aware his hovercam was still recording events, even if his earpiece had long since fallen silent.
"An incendiary device, not unlike the one my boys planted in Robert Hatch. Blow the door in and burn out the top floor of this block," Conchita said.
"But if your daughter is still alive up there, won't the fire kill her too?"
"She chose to be with the aliens instead of me," Conchita replied. "She has to face the consequences."
"But you told me she'd been abducted!" Riff protested. "That was the reason you mobilised the Citi-Def!"
"She chose to be with those alien freaks. She has to pay for that!"
"With her life? And what about all those from your Citi-Def squad who have sacrificed themselves for your cru
sade?" Riff turned to those gathered behind him. "How do you feel about this?"
"We didn't know," the nearest one admitted. "We thought this was a righteous cause, defending our block against-"
He was cut short by a bullet through the brain. Riff was sprayed with the dead man's blood. When he had wiped it away from his eyes, he found Conchita pointing her gun at him. "You're drokking insane!" he whispered.
"No, I'm a mother and I love my daughter. If she won't listen to me then she has to be punished," Conchita insisted. "Now, I suggest you all leave. This is between me and the aliens."
The remaining squad members were already retreating down the stairs but Riff stayed for one last question. "I've still got that pistol you gave me. What's to stop me shooting you?"
Conchita smiled. "It isn't loaded. If you're leaving, you better hurry. This is going to blow in the next few minutes."
"No, Control, I do not wish to speak with Dredd," Sector Chief Caine said. "I'm rather busy. Tell him to be patient. Caine out!" She returned to deleting files from her office computer system as someone knocked on her office door. "Come in." Brady opened the door and entered. "Close the door behind you, we don't want to be disturbed." Brady did as he was bid and then stood in front of Caine's desk.
"You sent for me, ma'am."
"That's right. I understand you've been giving Dredd a lot of help during this graveyard shift."
"Yes, ma'am. He helped me become a Tek-Judge instead of just another perp, so I wanted to repay a little of that debt."
"Commendable sentiments. However there is little room for sentiment within the department." Caine pulled open a drawer in her desk and reached inside it with both hands. "I notice you've been making particular enquiries about the armoury code for Oswald Mosley Block, trying to find out who leaked it to the Citi-Def. What progress have you made?"
"Well, it's proving to be something of a mystery. Channel 27 eventually admitted to acting as a conduit for the code's transmission into Oswald Mosley, but the news editor claimed he had been sent it by Judge Stammers."
"That fits Stammers's profile," Caine said. "Rabidly anti-alien and just stupid enough to do something like this. So where's the mystery?"
Brady's face lit up. "The message was sent to Channel 27 just after five this morning. But Stammers was reported dead two hours earlier!"
"So he recorded the message before he died and arranged for it to be transmitted later. I still don't see-"
"That's just it. Channel 27's system shows the message was sent as a live text-only message, not as a recording. And there's something else. It wasn't sent from any public vidphone booth, it came from inside this building! So someone here leaked the code to the Citi-Def squad. Whoever did that is culpable for the rocket attack on the H-Wagon that killed Deputy Sector Chief Temple and eleven other Judges."
"This is shocking news," Caine said. "Have you told anybody else about this yet? I wouldn't want word leaking out. The culprit might hear and take flight."
"Nobody else knows except you and I," the Tek-Judge said.
"Let's keep it that way, shall we?" Caine pulled a Lawgiver from inside the drawer of her desk, a silencer fitted snugly over the end of the barrel. She fired twice, both bullets thudding into Brady's chest. He tumbled backwards to the floor, still reacting with surprise. Caine stood up and walked round the desk to examine the dying Tek-Judge. "After all, we wouldn't want to create a panic. Sector Chief Escalates Anti-Alien Conflict doesn't make a very good headline for the department, does it?"
Brady coughed up blood, his hands feebly trying to staunch the bleeding from his wounds. "W-why?" he gasped.
"You and Dredd have forced my hand," Caine replied. "I had hoped to slip away quietly, with nobody else getting hurt. But your private investigation triggered the alarms I had built into the sector house comms systems. So you had to die. Sorry about that, but these things happen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have one or two little chores to complete before I depart this sector. Goodbye, Brady." She snapped the microphone from his helmet radio and switched off the computer screen on her desk before leaving, locking the door on her way out.
Brady tried to drag himself across the floor towards the desk, but his strength was fading fast. A coughing fit gripped his body, blood spread outwards across the floor beneath him, and his spasming legs kicked splashes against the side of the desk. The Tek-Judge looked up at the picture window. The sun was over the horizon now, lighting up the cityscape once more. Despite the absence of Weather Control, it was going to be a glorious day. But Brady's eyes could no longer see the brilliance of the blue sky. Brady's eyes could no longer see anything.
Miller and her strike team had met surprisingly little resistance as they climbed the stairs inside Oswald Mosley. A cluster of hardcore Citi-Def members had attempted to lay an ambush at the twenty-seventh floor but it only required a mixture of ricochet and heatseeker bullets to kill the ringleaders. Those left alive quickly surrendered, grateful to have met someone other than Dredd. "He says he's gonna kill us all if he finds us," one squad member said, her face full of fear.
Miller shoved her Widowmaker assault rifle under the woman's chin. "Get on your frequency and tell the others. If they surrender now they might get out of here alive. If they don't, we'll let Dredd have them. It's their choice."
After that the charge up the stairs passed with little incident. Each new group of Citi-Def fighters they encountered were more than happy to lay down their weapons and surrender. Miller's biggest problem was having to assign two of her team to supervising the removal of each group of prisoners. Still, the concussion gas had done its job and kept the other residents sedated and out of danger. The remnants of Miller's team were passing the sixtieth floor when another cluster of Citi-Def members appeared, all with their hands behind their heads. "We surrender, we surrender!" the man nearest the front cried out.
"How many of you left?" Miller demanded.
"There's just Conchita Maguire. She's still up on the ninety-ninth floor," another voice replied. Riff Maltin appeared from among the squad members and approached the Judges, his hovercam just behind him as always. "She's got an incendiary device like the one used at Robert Hatch. She plans to burn out the aliens on the top floor."
"You're the one who's been inciting these idiots to riot!" Miller snarled at the reporter. Her first punch broke Riff's nose, sending blood gushing down his face. Her second punch broke his jaw, the bone smashing beneath her gauntlet's steel-capped knuckles. The reporter collapsed to the stairs, his hovercam moving in for a close-up of his injuries. "Without your inflammatory reports, the Citi-Def would have seen sense and backed down hours ago. But you kept turning up the heat, until Conchita and her cronies didn't dare lose face. I'll be holding you personally responsible for every death that's taken place here!"
She swung the hovercam round so it was filming her face. "The same goes for everyone at Channel 27 and anybody still watching this. Turn yourself in to the nearest sector house. This transmission ends right now!"
Miller smashed the hovercam against a rockcrete wall repeatedly until few fragments bigger than her fist remained. She assigned half of her remaining team to escort Riff and the other prisoners down the stairs, while she pressed on with three other Judges. There was just the ringleader left to subdue, but Conchita was always going to be the most difficult. It was her missing daughter that had been one of the catalysts for all of this. This wasn't just about hating aliens, this was personal.
Conchita finished wiring the incendiary device together and set the timer for sixty seconds. That would give her enough time to retreat a safe distance down the stairs and get her flame-thrower ready. Any aliens that survived the initial explosion were going to be burnt to a crisp, one way or another.
Caine emerged from the turbolift into the sector house's registration area, a smile playing about her lips. The Judge behind 87's check-in desk saw her and called out. Caine stopped, sighed and walked towards him. "Yes, what it is? I'm running lat
e for an early meeting at Justice Central."
"It's just that Dredd's been trying to contact you for some time. Apparently he's very unhappy about something."
"Well, that's no great surprise. I've got a hover pod waiting for me outside. Tell Dredd I'll give him a call en route to my destination. Anything else?"
"No, ma'am, just that."
Caine smiled. "Very well. Oh, could you tell Tek-Division that Brady is fixing a fault in my office and is not to be disturbed under any circumstances. He tells me it may take several hours. Is that quite clear?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Excellent. Well, see you on the streets." She marched from the sector house, never to return. Once outside she stepped into a waiting hover pod. "The spaceport and make it snappy," Caine told the droid driver before activating her helmet radio. "Control, this is Caine. Patch me through to Dredd."
Dredd sealed off the air vents, stopping the flow of concussion gas into the top floor. It didn't take long for Gruchar or the Wolfren family to revive, no doubt thanks to their alien physiognomy. But the Judge was having less luck undoing the damage Nyon had wrought on the turbolift doors, which remained fused shut. He would have to find a way to reopen access to the emergency stairs, unless an H-Wagon could be brought in to evacuate the aliens. A voice from his helmet radio offered new hope. "Miller to Dredd, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear. What's been happening?"
"I brought in a strike team and we've cleared most of the hostiles. Just Conchita Maguire left."
"Do you know where she is?"
"According to the others she's about to detonate an incendiary device on the emergency access door to your floor. It could blow at any time and we're still forty storeys below you!"