by David Bishop
Dredd shouted at Misch and the other aliens to start running. "Get as far from here as you can!" He pulled open a door and crouched behind it, using the metal rectangle as a shield.
"Caine to Dredd: you wanted to talk to me?"
"Not now! This place could-"
The explosion cut off his transmission.
Caine pulled off her helmet, the radio a frenzy of white noise. "How very rude."
The emergency access door exploded into the top floor of Oswald Mosley. It sliced neatly through three walls and out of a large glasseen window. It took nearly a minute for the crumpled and charred rectangle of metal to hit the ground below, burying itself into the deserted skedway.
The fireball from the explosion expanded into the circular corridor and split into halves, each flying out sideways. The door Dredd was crouching behind buckled and boiled, but the reinforced metal core held firm, protecting him from the flames. The twin fireballs scorched round the corridor, splaying sideways through any open doors and incinerating everything in its path. Fortunately Kasey, Misch and all the other aliens had retreated to the far side of Oswald Mosley, closing the doors behind them. By the time the fireball had reached the final barrier, the flames were burning themselves out.
Dredd stood up and looked along the corridor. The walls and floor were still burning but the immediate danger was past. But smoke inhalation or fire could still claim everyone alive on this level. The need to evacuate was now more urgent than ever.
"Where is she?" a woman's voice screeched. "Where's the little monster that caused all of this?" Conchita Maguire stepped through the now empty doorway to the emergency stairs, a lit flame-thrower clasped in her hands, twin fuel tanks mounted on her back.
"Are you talking about your daughter or yourself?" Dredd asked from behind the protection of his door.
Conchita whirled round, sending a fresh ball of flame at the wilting rectangle. "I'm talking about Kasey! My darling little Kasey, the waste of skin and bones that has shamed me from the moment she was born!"
"Not what I call motherly love," Dredd replied, his words goading Conchita still further. He was rewarded with another dose of flame.
"What would you know about it? Did you ever have a mother?"
"The Law is my family!" Dredd shouted. "Look what's happened to yours!"
"My family loves me!" Conchita screamed.
"Your daughter ran away, she'd rather be with aliens than with you."
"Not that little slitch! She was a mistake. I'm talking about my sons!"
"Ramone and Dermot?"
"That's them. Two of the finest boys a mother ever had."
Dredd was backing slowly away from Conchita, always keeping the door between himself and her. "If they're so fine, why haven't you heard from them?"
"How did you know that?"
"Because they died last night. Judge Stammers gunned them down in cold blood and pushed their bodies into a chem pit." He listened carefully to her reply, using it to determine her position and take aim.
"No, you're lying!" Conchita raged.
"You'll never know - I just wanted you to think about that as you died. Armour piercing!" Dredd fired six times in succession, each bullet piercing the door and travelling on through Conchita's body. As they spat out her back the bullets punctured the tanks of the flame-thrower, releasing jets of flammable gas into the air. It mingled with the flames from the nozzle of her weapon. Conchita was toast.
Miller was running up the stairs past the ninety-fifth floor when the second fireball exploded. It flung itself out of the doorway five storeys up and surged down the stairwell, roasting everything in its path. "Take cover!" Miller screamed.
Dredd rolled over and over, trying to extinguish the flames that had engulfed him, but their grip on his uniform was too strong. He was being burned alive. It was the aliens that saved him; Lleccas and Gruchar dragged him out of the corridor and doused him with water. Misch and Kasey had closed the door behind them so now all the survivors were trapped in one room.
Once the flames were extinguished, Dredd reactivated his helmet radio. "Miller, can you still hear me?"
"Just," came the coughing reply. "What was that second explosion?"
Dredd noticed Kasey, her face still showing the bruises and scars inflicted by her mother. "Conchita Maguire won't be hurting anyone anymore."
"Well, that's good news," Miller said. "The bad news is we can't get close to you. The fire has cut off all access from below. What's your status?"
"Not good. All the survivors are in one room with me, but we're cut off by the flames. There is no escape except the window. We need evac and now!" A burst of static indicated another voice cutting into the conversation.
"Control to Dredd: Chief Judge Hershey has overruled the no-fly zone imposed by Sector Chief Caine. H-Wagons should be with you any minute."
"Thank Grud for that. Dredd out!" He let himself slump against a wall, exhaustion catching up with him.
Misch whispered something in her broodmother's ear. Lleccas smiled and nodded. Then the R'qeen child ventured over to the Judge and cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said in perfect English. "Would you like me to make you feel better?"
Dredd opened his eyes and looked down at the broodling. "Why? Have you got a med-kit stashed about here somewhere?"
"No, but I do have the gift of metema. It can ease away your weariness."
Kasey stood beside her friend. "She makes everyone feel better."
Dredd shrugged. "Give it a try, kid."
Misch rested her hand inside that of Dredd and closed her eyes, reaching out to drive away his fatigue. After a few moments she staggered and took her hand away, Kasey helping the R'qeen girl to stay upright. Dredd straightened. His muscles and joints were not as stiff as before, and his back was slowly unbending.
"What's your name?"
"Misch."
"Thank you, Misch. If there's ever anything I can do for you..."
She beckoned him to bend over and whispered something into his helmet.
Dredd frowned slightly, before nodding. "I'll see what I can arrange."
Then the H-Wagon appeared out of the dawn sky, the sunlight glinting off its metal panels and glasseen windows.
07:00
Caine emerged from the spaceport restrooms a different woman. Gone was the close-cropped mass of black curls; a copper bob replaced them. Shed was the Sector Chief's uniform, supplanted by a stylish catsuit of black leathereen that gripped her in all the right places. She wore matching stiletto boots. Her eyes looked different: dark green contact lenses in place of the usual hazel pupils. Even her travel documents were a lie; she now assumed the fresh identity of galactic bounty hunter Dakota Biggs. The new persona helped explain the small but deadly weapon concealed in her hip pocket.
The flight to Luna-1 and then onwards to the Eden colony on Mars, had already being called. Caine presented her documents to the Judge on Customs, careful to keep her smile friendly while idly leaning forwards to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. Law enforcers might not be permitted sexual or romantic liaisons, but they didn't stop them looking, in her experience. Sure enough, he waved her through to the first class waiting room after admiring the view for a few moments longer than were strictly necessary.
The waiting room had been an agonising experience. Caine's eyes constantly darted to the doorway, expecting a Judge to burst in at any time looking for her. But the expectation went unmet. After several minutes the first class passengers were called through to take their seats on the flight. There were only three others joining her on this jaunt, all of them frequent flyers judging by their bored expressions.
Even while being strapped into a seat for lift-off, Caine found herself waiting for a gauntlet-clad hand to rest itself on her shoulder, a quiet word in her ear as a Lawgiver was pressed into her back. But the pre-flight procedures passed without incident and the engines were engaged. At last Caine let herself relax. She ordered a champagne cocktail from the robotic
steward and closed her eyes. Now, this was the life! No more reports to read, no more bureaucracy to tangle with, no more responsibility. She was looking forward to being a rich, dangerous civ...
"Your champagne, ma'am," a voice growled.
Caine looked up to find Dredd standing over her, Lawgiver in one hand, a glass of bubbling liquid in the other. His uniform was a charred mess, his face blackened and burnt. Caine took the glass and sipped at the contents. "This is warm," she protested.
"So was the top floor of Oswald Mosley. Get over it."
"Fair point," Caine agreed and took another sip. "How did you find me?"
"The Desk Judge at the sector house got suspicious after you said 'See you on the streets' as you left. you'd never been that nice to him. They found Brady's body in your office. He had written CAINE = KILLER in his own blood. Seems the SJS have been watching you and Summerbee for months."
"I've had my suspicions of that," Caine conceded. "When you turned up, I was convinced Hershey had sent you in to find evidence against me."
"That's why you reacted so strongly to my arrival."
"It seemed the best strategy - keep you off-balance, moving from one end of the sector to the other and you wouldn't have time to investigate me. None of it would have been necessary if the Heavy Metal Kid had done its job properly."
"That was meant for me?"
"Just like you should have died inside Oswald Mosley. Grud knows, I put enough obstacles in your way." Caine finished her champagne. "Well, what's the plan now? Shoot me here or ship me to Titan for a long slow death there?"
"I'm asking the questions," Dredd snapped. "The fire at Robert Hatch; you used Stammers and Riley to torch the building so Summerbee could get the contract to construct the new Grand Halls of Justice there. What was your cut of the deal? Half? A quarter?"
"I don't know why you bother asking me questions if you're going to answer them yourself," Caine said, shoving her hands petulantly into her pockets. "Summerbee and I were going halves, my nest egg for retirement."
"Judges don't retire. They die in the line of duty or take the Long Walk."
"That's where you're wrong, Dredd. The department was about to retire me. Except they called it a sideways promotion. I was a rising star once, destined for big things. I thought I'd be heading up a division of my own by now, perhaps have a seat on the Council of Five, maybe even be Chief Judge one day. Instead I was to be shuffled sideways, pushed out for someone younger so Hershey can make her mark on the department! Well what about me? What about my contribution? Twenty years a Judge and what did I have to show for it? Nothing, except a synthetic lung and bionic eye implants. I was getting put out to pasture, past my prime, out of date. Well not this Judge!" Caine pulled her hands from her pockets, a tiny pistol in her grasp, one finger on the trigger.
"You can't escape," Dredd said wearily. "Every Judge between here and Pluto has your new identity by now. Fire that and you'll be dead in moments."
"How right you are," Caine replied, lifting the pistol up to her mouth. She pulled the trigger before Dredd could wrench the weapon from her grasp.
"She would have killed herself sooner or later," Miller said when Dredd walked out of the spaceship. "Least this ways the department doesn't have to pay for her to be shipped to the judicial prison on Titan."
The two Judges strolled through the spaceport as a forensic team from Tek-Division moved in to clean up the mess. Overhead a robotic tannoy regretfully announced a delay in the departure of the morning flight to Luna-1 and Mars, due to "technical difficulties."
Miller smiled at the euphemism. "Technical difficulties must mean how hard it is to get fresh brains out of such plush upholstery."
Chief Judge Hershey was waiting for them outside. "I hear she's dead."
"Killed herself rather than go to Titan," Dredd said. "How long have you known about Caine?"
"Known? Only for the past hour or so. Suspected? More than a year. That's why I sent you in, Dredd. Thought it might make Caine show her hand."
"It did. You could have told me I was acting as bait for your trap."
"Better to keep you ignorant and Caine guessing at your motives," Hershey said.
"What about the plans to build a new Grand Hall of Justice in Sector 87? Was that just another lure for Caine and Summerbee?" Miller asked.
"Yes. It was the only way to draw out as big a fish as Summerbee. And it worked."
"Just a shame so many good people had to die to prove it," Dredd said.
Hershey nodded. "You know, with Caine and Temple dead, there's a vacancy for a new Sector Chief in 87..."
Dredd didn't want to know. "I did my time in the Pit. I like being out on the streets, not stuck behind some desk."
"Actually, I was making the offer to Judge Miller," the Chief Judge said.
"Oh." Dredd cleared his throat. "Good choice."
"That's what I thought," Hershey agreed. "Well, Lynn, how about it?"
"I didn't think I'd get a shot at the big chair, in view of my record."
"A dozen exemplary years on the streets, good leadership skills and a willingness to confront corruption in the force - even from old friends. I think that outweighs one youthful indiscretion," the Chief Judge said. "We've all made mistakes in our time, haven't we, Dredd?"
"Some more than others," he replied, prompting a smile from Hershey.
"It will still have to go before the Council of Five," she said. "But if you're willing to take the post it could be yours."
Miller nodded happily. "I'll do it!"
"Good. Well, if that's everything settled-"
Dredd held up a hand to interrupt the Chief Judge. "There's one other matter arising from the incidents at Oswald Mosley."
"I suspect Tek-Division will condemn the building. Those residents not going to the cubes for their part in the lawlessness will have to be rehoused until the block can be rebuilt."
"No, it was something else," Dredd said. "I have a request to pass on."
EPILOGUE
08:00
"You can open your eyes," Lleccas said. Kasey and Misch pulled their hands away from their faces and gasped. They were standing in the middle of a palatial bungalow, the open plan lounge sprawling out before them, large sofas and luxurious furnishings spread around the huge space.
"What is this place?" Misch asked.
"It used to belong to a rich man called Summerbee," Dredd said. "When he died he left all his residences to the city. The Chief Judge has said Summerbee's properties can be used to house all the alien families who lost their homes in the fire at Robert Hatch. Lleccas and Misch will be living here from now on, with several other R'qeen families."
"Oh," said Kasey sadly. "Where will I go?"
"That's up to you," Lleccas replied. "All your family are dead but the Judge says you can stay with us, if you want."
The human girl turned to Dredd, her face full of hope. "Can I? Really?"
"If you want. It may not be as easy as you think. Most of the R'qeen cannot speak English like Misch and many do not know Allspeak either."
"Misch will help me," Kasey announced.
The R'qeen broodling nodded. While Lleccas, Kasey and the others went off to explore the rest of their new home, Misch stayed behind with Dredd.
"I wanted to thank you, for making my wish happen," she said.
"Your broodfather is dead, you've been burnt out of two homes in twelve hours. Not what I'd call a happy ending."
Misch smiled. "It would have been worse, without you. Thanks."
Dredd nodded, watching the alien child run off to be with the others. The Judge walked back out of the luxurious home to his Lawmaster motorcycle. "Dredd to Control, you got anything for me?"
"Nothing at this time."
"In that case I'm done for this graveyard shift. Sign me off."
"Where will you be if needed?"
"On a sleep machine. I'll be back on call at nine. Dredd out!"
The Big Meg
Glo
ssary
Allspeak: A language favoured by aliens throughout the galaxy.
Bat-Glider: A bodysuit with wings that allows its user to soar over the city by utilising the air currents.
Birdie: A hand-held lie detector.
Block: Giant skyscrapers that make up most of Mega-City One. The inhabitants of blocks are known as blockers. Sometimes the pressures of living in such cramped high-rise conditions lead to block mania, which may spark a block war.
Brit-Cit: British counterpart of Mega-City One.
Citi-Def: A civilian militia, the City Defence Force: a voluntary civilian army organised on a block basis that saw action against the Sov-Bloc invaders of the Apocalypse War in 2104.
Con-Apt: Connecting apartment, usually small and modest.
Control: The nerve centre of Mega-City One, relaying information to Judges on the streets.
Council of Five: The central ruling council of Judges, including Chief Judge Hershey.
Cursed Earth: A vast radioactive wasteland that stretches across North America, populated by mutants, freaks and wild creatures.
Daystick: The Judge's favoured truncheon.
Dust Zone: Sector in the city dedicated to industrial use.
Graveyard Shift: A term coined by the Judges for the late night/early morning period of duty.
H-Wagon: A heavy Justice Department hover vehicle, usually well armoured and armed.
Hotdog run: An expedition into the Cursed Earth for trainee Judges.
Indo-Cit: Indian counterpart of Mega-City One.
Iso-Cube: The standard imprisonment for criminals; a huge block full of very small isolation cubes.
Lawgiver: The weapon of choice for the Judge; an automatic multi-shell gun whose ammunition ranges from armour piercing to ricochet rounds.