Judge Dredd

by Neal Barrett

  Hershey felt something cold at the back of her neck. Dredd didn’t move. At the Judges’ table, Griffin leaned over to speak to Fargo. Fargo listened, then turned to Silver and Esposito. Finally, he spoke to McGruder and Hershey.

  “The request is granted. You may proceed, Prosecutor.”

  A slight, almost imperceptible shadow crossed McGruder’s face. Hershey caught it, and knew it for what it was at once.

  She doesn’t want to do this. She doesn’t, but she can’t back away from what she’s found…

  “Central, are you on-line?” McGruder said.

  “On-line, Judge McGruder.”

  The voice was feminine; it was a calm, reasonable, and soothing voice, that instilled both confidence and authority.

  “I want you to access weapons schematics,” McGruder said. “Please describe the working of the standard Judge’s firearm, the Lawgiver Two, and especially its improvements over the earlier Lawgiver One.”

  A rotating schematic of the Lawgiver, stark white on blue, appeared on the big screen at once.

  “Seven years ago, the Lawgiver Model Two replaced the Model One. The difference between these models lies in two areas: The computer chip and the ammunition coding. Like the Model One, the computer chip in the Model Two recognizes the palmprint of its owner. An imposter’s hand will activate the weapon’s alarm…”

  The schematic dissolved into an animated figure. The figure pressed the trigger of a Lawgiver and was promptly blown to bits in a clean, computer-generated explosion.

  “… Model Two is somewhat different. It is coded to the personal DNA of the Judge using the weapon, via the skin’s contact with the grip. A failsafe security precaution…”

  Hershey turned to Dredd. “Did you know about this?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did I. I don’t think anybody did.”

  “… The DNA is obtained from my medical files and upgraded automatically every time the weapon is reloaded. Each time a round is chambered and fired, the projectile is tagged with that relevant DNA…”

  No, no! Hershey could see the whole thing now, see it all coming together.

  “Chief Justice,” she said suddenly, “the Defense was unaware of this information. I’m sure everybody else here is unaware of it, too.”

  “Let the Prosecution finish, Judge Hershey,” Fargo said calmly. “I’ll hear from you later if you so desire.”

  Hershey’s shoulders fell. McGruder nodded her thanks. “Were the bullets recovered from the bodies of Vardis and Lily Hammond so DNA-coded, Central?”

  “Yes, Judge McGruder.”

  “And what was the result of the computer check of the DNA coding of those bullets?”

  “The DNA is a perfect match for Judge Joseph Dredd.”

  “That’s a lie! This is a setup! I did not kill those people!”

  Dredd dug his fists into his palms, drawing blood. The cords stood out in his neck. He stared at Chief Justice Fargo. Fargo met his eyes, hesitated, and looked away.

  A terrible cry started deep in Dredd’s throat. He didn’t care about the rest of them, they could believe him or go to hell. But Fargo, if Fargo doubted him, if he thought for an instant that he had done such a thing…

  He turned on Hershey, gripping her shoulders hard. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t do this.”

  “I know that. I know you didn’t, Dredd.” His fingers dug into her arms but she didn’t complain. “I believe you, but I don’t know what to do for you. The DNA evidence… it’s irrefutable. He’s left us without any case at all.”

  Dredd dropped his hands. “Everything he’s saying is a lie. I’m telling the truth. What kind of case is that?”

  “It’s the Law,” Hershey said. “McGruder may be wrong, but the Law is right, Dredd. You, of all people, know that.”

  Dredd didn’t answer. He looked at Hershey but didn’t see her. He couldn’t see anything at all.

  “Your Honor, the Prosecution rests,” McGruder said.

  Under the judicial system of the Way Back When, crime not only took its toll on the individual Citizen, it also created an enormous financial burden on the community as a whole. Though it is difficult to imagine, it was the Citizen himself, through the payment of taxes, who supported lawbreakers when they were apprehended and sent to prison. Thus, food, housing, health care, and even entertainment were provided by the very people the criminals had victimized.

  Under the modern penal system of the Judges, it is the inmates who bear the cost of their incarceration. If a prison is to be constructed, it is built by prison labor. Only the cost of the materials is borne by the Mega-Cities. Much of this cost is recovered through COPP—Confiscation of Prisoners’ Property. When a prisoner is committed, all material goods such as real estate, vehicles, credit accounts, etc., are forfeited and cannot be recovered, even after the prisoner’s sentence has been served.

  Further costs of incarceration are borne by the prisoner during his sentence. Prison industries manufacture goods which are sold at a profit on open market. All food consumed in prison is grown by the inmates themselves. Clothing is manufactured within the system. Power and sanitation services are purchased from prison industry profits. A small percentage of those profits is allocated to prison “entertainment,” which is restricted to health-related activities such as rigorous exercise that would aid the inmate in maintaining the proper conditioning for performing his duties.

  Prisoners do not receive wages for their work, as they did in the distant past. Upon release, each man is given the equivalent of one month’s income based on current minimum wage standards. A man who has served six months, or thirty years, receives the same amount upon his release. He is expected to use these funds wisely and sparingly, to rehabilitate himself at once, and obtain gainful employment.

  It is unfortunate that approximately seventy-eight percent of prisoners released eventually commit the same crimes they committed before, and find themselves sentenced once again. However, it should be noted that this figure does not accurately represent those lawbreakers reincarcerated. Under the Judges, sixty-three percent of prisoners convicted receive sentences calling for execution arrest—either for the severity of the crime, or under the “Second Offense” rule. This relatively low rate of imprisonment results in a penal population that remains at a controllable level.

  —History of the Mega-Cities

  James Olmeyer, III

  Chapter XXII: “The Modern Penal System”

  2191

  SIXTEEN

  THE SETTING:

  This is Chief Justice Fargo’s private study, just off the Great Council Chamber. Fargo’s quarters reflect less of the man’s lofty position than of the man himself. Instead of the dark, heavy furniture, thick carpets, and rare objets d’art other high officials might demand, Fargo’s quarters are almost Spartan. There is a bookcase against one wall. On a simple table is a pitcher of water and two glasses. There is an ordinary plastic desk stacked with papers, and two relatively comfortable chairs.

  The plastered, white-washed walls contain no pictures, certificates, holos, or awards. The one feature of Fargo’s quarters which sets them apart is something few might notice at all, unless they were familiar with the architecture of the Council Chamber. The immense marble shield and eagle is, of course, the focal point of the chamber. The back of this enormous stone forms one inner wall of the Chief Justice’s study. It is hard to miss the symbolism here: Here is the emblem of power, and the man at its foundation who makes that power real. This interesting bit of mythos and wisdom is pointed out to each new class of Cadets. For most of them, this place will remain a mystery throughout their careers as Judges. The chance of actually seeing the Chief Justice’s quarters is something on the order of none.

  [Chief Justice Fargo stares out a small window overlooking the sprawling order and chaos of Mega-City. At this moment in his life, he would gladly trade places with the most ordinary Citizen below.]

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  Wh
at have I done? How could I have been so wrong? Dredd, Rico—both of them homicidal. Only this time it will be impossible to cover up. Damn it all, this simply couldn’t happen!

  [Fargo buries his face in his hands. Judge Griffin walks up behind him to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.]

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  Chief Justice, it did happen. We can’t know how or why, so there’s no use whipping ourselves over that. The point is, it’s not too late to pull our boots out of the fire. We carefully buried the Janus Project nine years ago, along with Rico and all his victims. No one will ever learn of your involvement. Nothing that happened leads back to you.

  [Fargo shakes his head. Griffin makes it sound easy to forget about the past. Fargo knows that yesterday is always there, dogging the heels of the present.]

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  No, we can’t hold it back this time, my friend. The media know how close I am to Dredd. They’ve got connections, they always do. They’ll dig until the whole mess comes out. And they’ll love it, too. It’s the perfect excuse to ruin what little government, what little control we have left.

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  Your motives were pure, untainted, Chief Justice. You thought Dredd was—different, or you would never have spared him.

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  And that little mistake may just bring down our whole judicial system. All of us. It won’t just be me, you know. Once they get the taste of blood they’ll go after everyone who wears the badge.

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  You can’t look at it that way. We are all Judges, all responsible for the acts of one another. And if they bring us down, then… Sir, you and I have not always agreed in judicial matters, but I shall be proud to stand beside you, Chief Justice Fargo.

  [Fargo looks at Griffin a long moment, then abruptly turns away to hide his emotions.]

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  I am grateful for what you have said. Your words mean much to me. And you have done me a greater favor than you know, my friend. So much greater than you can know!

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  Chief Justice—

  [Fargo turns and faces Griffin again. Griffin knows this man well, but he is startled by the strength, the will, the terrible sense of anguish he sees in Fargo’s eyes.]

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  There is another way to resolve this problem. It is the rational way, and, more important, it is the responsible way. Responsibility is the brother of privilege—we must never forget the truth of that.

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  What are you saying, Chief Justice? I don’t understand…

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  I think you do. I think you must know exactly what I am saying. I have the option, and I have the desire to exercise that option, Judge Griffin. I will retire. I will take the Long Walk…

  [Judge Griffin stares, then violently shakes his head, as if this gesture might deny Fargo’s words, his intentions.]

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  You cannot. You will not, Chief Justice. The Long Walk is a death sentence and you know it!

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  Then it is my death sentence, is it not? It is my choice.

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  Your… choice grants you certain rights, of course.

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  I am quite aware of those rights, Judge Griffin…

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  Sir, I did not mean to imply—

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  It does not truly matter at this point what you may or may not imply, my friend. I hold you blameless. And yes, I will use the power of my retirement to save Dredd’s life. This was on your mind, I believe? Fine. If everyone sees this as my motive, so much the better. They will not bother to look for any other… benefits of my decision. I believe the media will be so ecstatic at the chance to innundate Mega-City with countless holos, videos, broadcasts of my actions, they will have neither the time nor the inclination to turn over any other rocks searching for dirty laundry.

  [Chief Justice Fargo pauses to pour himself a glass of water. Griffin’s mouth is parched as well, but he finds he cannot bring himself to break the spell Fargo has cast upon this room.]

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  The judicial system we have worked these many years to establish will remain intact. And the secret of the Janus Project will be secure. That should be… adequate work for one day, don’t you think?

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  What you do is… more than anyone could ask of you. Your action shames us all, sir.

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  We shamed ourselves, Judge Griffin, when we allowed ourselves to become involved in Janus. There is no need for all of us to pay for that foolish mistake, but I cannot say that it is asking too much for one of us to bear that burden.

  JUDGE GRIFFIN

  I wish it were someone else, Chief Justice. I would—I would take your place if I could, sir, and consider it an honor.

  CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

  I appreciate the thought, Judge Griffin. But do not be in such a great hurry to give yourself to the cause. It is not necessary. Someone will make the decision for you one day—long before you’re ready to be so noble yourself…

  SEVENTEEN

  This is a dream.

  I have never had a dream, but I am certain I am having one now. Other people talk about dreams, so I looked it up to see what a dream might be. A dream is a thought in your head when you’re asleep. You do not control what you dream; it’s simply there. A dream is either good or bad. This dream is bad. It doesn’t matter though, because a dream isn’t real. When you wake up everything is fine. Everything is like it was before…

  The Council Chamber was hushed. The Judges filed into the room. There was no way anyone could tell from the expressions on their faces what they intended to do. Some enterprising members of the media tried to read the verdict from the way the Judges walked, from the way they held their shoulders, from the way their arms moved. Were Fargo’s shoulders bowed? Did Esposito stand as straight as usual? Didn’t Griffin usually come in before Judge Silver, instead of just behind?

  The reporter looked up past the Judges at the cobalt light that shimmered from the high, vaulted panes. One beam of light streaked down upon the massive granite shaft. The beam seemed to race across the shield, trace the eagle’s wing, and settle on the razored talons of its leg.

  The reporter drew in a breath. It had to be a sign. The light wouldn’t strike the claw at that moment if there wasn’t meaning there.

  He hastily scribbled a note on his pad: In the old days, in the Way Back When, superstitious men and women believed they saw signs from their Maker everywhere…

  It would do just fine. He would describe the beam of light as a sign of Dredd’s conviction or acquittal. It didn’t matter which. That was the thing about signs: They worked any way that you wanted them to.

  Chief Justice Fargo struck the table with his gavel. Council Judge Esposito stood to speak for the Tribunal.

  “In the charge of premeditated murder against Citizens Vardis Hammond and Lily Hammond, we find the Defendant Joseph Dredd… guilty.”

  Everyone in the room seemed to draw a breath at once. One of the Cadets lost control and cried out, shaking his fist in a fury of protest. A veteran Street Judge rushed the young man outside. Ordinarily, he would have punished the Cadet severely. Today, he would forget what he had seen.

  Chief Justice Fargo looked down at Dredd, determined to face him squarely, to do his duty and not turn away.

  “Joseph Dredd, you are aware the Law allows only one punishment for your crime. That punishment is death. However, it has long been our custom to carry out the last order of a retiring Judge…”

  Fargo gripped the arm of his chair. His body felt massive, heavy with the weight of his years, with the sorrow of this terrible thing that was happening to him, to Dredd, to them all. He felt an instant of sheer panic when he was certain he could not bring himself to
stand. Then, the strength that had always carried him through the worst of times came to his aid again. Gazing out over the crowd, he bowed his head, then lifted his face to the high ceiling, to the graceful arches of stone, to the fierce blue light.

  “And so I now step down. And as I do so, I exercise my right. As I leave to take my Long Walk into the Cursed Earth, I ask this Court for leniency in its verdict against Judge Dredd, in gratitude for his years of dedicated service…”

  Hershey was numb. Her heart pounded against her chest. She risked a look at Dredd, standing close beside her. What she saw sent a chill up her spine. Dredd’s eyes were dead. As dead as frosted glass. His mentor, the man who had been his father in nearly every respect, had just saved Dredd and sentenced himself to die. And Joseph Dredd hadn’t blinked an eye!

  At that moment, Hershey didn’t know whether to hate Dredd or pity him. The man was made of ice, an iceman with a chunk of iron for a heart!

  Chief Justice Fargo closed his eyes for a moment, then stood aside and formally relinquished his seat to Judge Griffin. Griffin picked up the gavel of the Chief Justice, his new badge of office, then set it down again.

  “We will honor your order, Judge Fargo. The sentence of death is revoked. Joseph Dredd is hereby sentenced to life in Aspen Prison.”

  His first act as Chief Justice completed, Griffin struck the table with his gavel. The Court erupted into chaos. Griffin pounded the table again and again, his face growing, dark with anger.