by Neal Barrett
Hershey looked at Dredd. “They built the Janus Project directly beneath it. Under the Liberty Lady.”
“Yeah,” Dredd said. “Where else?”
THIRTY-NINE
The crisp smell of ozone was in the air. Griffin could almost feel the energy, the awesome surge of raw power that throbbed beneath his feet. That much power was frightening to imagine. New life, the pulse of Creation itself…
They were together, Ilsa and Rico, at the far end of the lab. They turned as he entered. The thousand eyes of the computer cast dancing shards of color about the room. The big robot stood silently behind Rico, only its ruby glow visible in the shadows.
“Dredd got away from the Hunters,” Griffin told them. “Took some good men with him, too. Bastard’s got nine lives.”
“Not to worry,” Rico said. “Little brother won’t get in our way.”
Griffin stared at him. Rico looked bored with the whole thing, a man thinking about an afternoon nap. Damn you! When this is over… when you’re not useful anymore…
“Well, I’m glad you’re so confident,” he said aloud. “I’m pleased to hear we have no problems at all, Rico.”
“Not with Dredd, we don’t.” Rico made a note on a comm-board and passed it to Ilsa. “He’s going to be seriously outnumbered quite soon. Current figures please, Central?”
“Current figures, Council Judge Rico… The new DNA sample has been multiplexed as ordered… Gametes are dividing.”
“New—” Griffin turned on Rico. “New samples? What the hell’s going on here, Rico? I didn’t order any new samples.”
“No, but I did.” Rico grinned at Griffin’s expression. “That DNA in there was thirty years old. Sooner or later, you have to clean out the fridge.”
Ilsa laughed, the sound of silver bells. Griffin watched as she leaned in against him, watched her slide her hand down the length of his arm. He knew at once. Knew what had happened between them. It had all gone wrong. It was Rico who had seduced the woman, not the other way around, not the way he’d planned.
“You dare to do something like that? That sample was created with the greatest of care for the—” Griffin stopped, the cold chill of realization constricting the muscles in his throat. “What—what did you replace it with, Rico?”
“Uh-oh,” Ilsa said. She buried her laughter in Rico’s sleeve.
“Oh, my God, no. You didn’t!”
“Please!” Rico looked hurt. “You should be congratulating me, Mr. Chief Justice. I’m going to be a father.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Griffin told him. “The sample has to be pure of defects or the accelerator will form mutations. That’s what happened before!”
Rico laughed aloud. “That’s why Dredd’s so ugly.”
“No!” Griffin stepped into his path, his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s you, for God’s sake, Rico. You were defective—your copies will be even more defective!”
Rico’s eyes blazed. “You’re lying, Griffin. All you are about is control. Your control. But the Janus Judges won’t be the puppets you want. They’ll be my brothers. Who do you think they’re going to listen to? You, or me?”
Griffin closed his eyes a moment. “Ilsa, you’re with him on this? You can’t be. You know better, you know what he is.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever understood the full potential of this… opportunity, love.” She let her fingers rest on Rico’s chest. “This project needs vision. Not politics.”
“No, this can’t happen.” Griffin shook his head. “It can’t.”
“I’m afraid there’s not much you can do about it, Chief Jus—”
Griffin took a quick step to one side, braced his feet and whipped a small pistol from his tunic.
“No, not again,” he said. “No more like you!”
The robot’s arm came out of nowhere, wrapped a flexible steel tendril around Griffin’s arm. The weapon clattered to the floor.
“Get it… off of me, Rico!” Griffin’s eyes were wide with fear. “Get… it… off!”
The robot snaked another arm around Griffin’s arm and lifted him off the floor. Griffin tugged at the tight bands of steel, kicked his legs in the air.
“Rico, for God’s sake… please!”
Rico shook his head sadly. “You never understood me, did you, Griffin? I’m alive, I’m real. I’m not something you made to carry out the trash.”
“Central… override!” Griffin strained against the robot’s grip. “Help meeee!”
“Request is denied, Chief Justice. The ABC War Robot is not linked to my main processor.”
“You need to keep up with the times,” Rico said. “Look away for just a tiny minute, technology passes you by.”
He watched the man dangling helplessly above, looked at his eyes, at the terror in his face. He felt a sense of completion, a great sense of peace.
“Fido, tear off Chief Justice Griffin’s arms and legs, please. Save the head for last.”
FORTY
They left the Lawmasters behind a rubble-strewn wall half a block away. Dredd wasn’t sure what kind of sensors Griffin might have above-ground, but he saw no reason to take any chances now.
Hershey caught up with him, peered over his shoulders into the near-darkened street. Dredd held a scanner in his hand, watching the line of green static dance across the tiny screen.
“Dead ahead,” Hershey said. “Right?”
“Down there.” Dredd thumbed shells into the Remington, racked the slide to bring number one into the chamber.
“Looks like you guys have got everything under control,” Fergie said. “I’ll watch the Lawmasters. Nobody’s going to get past me.”
“I might need you down there,” Dredd said. “To help shut down the Janus system.”
“I knew you were going to say that. I knew it.”
Dredd looked up. The street looked much the same. The debris from the block war had been scraped up and hauled away, but no one had bothered to fix the lights. In the glow from the faraway heights of Mega-City, he could see the broken profile of the Liberty Lady’s face, embedded in the ancient brick wall. One sad and empty eye, part of a cheek, a piece of a heavy brow. Higher in the wall, the suggestion of a hand, a rusted torch. Dredd looked away, studied the scanner, and led his group inside.
The building had been closed for repairs, then forgotten. It was hard to guess how many years ago. Dredd walked through the empty hallways, following the scanner’s electric glow. A concrete stairway led to a cellar below. Water dripped from old ceramic pipes. Something squealed ahead, scuttled off into the dark.
Fergie stopped. “What’s that?”
“We’re down in the lower levels,” Dredd told him. “What’s the problem? You said you had friends down here.”
Fergie didn’t answer. He kept close to Dredd. He wondered what the creatures ate down here. Where would they find any food? He decided not to think about that, decided that he might not like it if he knew.
Dredd stopped. Ahead was a concrete wall. “The scanner says the source of the power surge is straight ahead.” He nodded at the solid wall. “Right there.”
“My Lawgiver might blast through it,” Hershey said. “But I doubt it. If it did, everyone in Red Quad would hear it.”
“Forget it. Got to be some other way.”
Fergie let out a breath. “People, just move aside, will you?” He shook his head at Dredd. “I’ll bet you locked yourself in the bathroom when you were a kid, right?”
Fergie pressed his palms against the wall in a dozen places, walked down the entire width, and started over again.
“It’s an old-fashioned pressure lock. Fifty, sixty years ago. The Hush-O-Door. Big rage back then. Known in the trade as ‘The Burglar’s Delight.’ Nobody’s been dumb enough to use one since.”
He bent down and touched the wall again. “Dealer sold you the software. You set the gimmick up, picked your own contact point. Most groons put it two, three inches above the floor. Like a good break-and-enter
man would be too lazy to squat a little, right?”
Fergie pressed three fingers against the wall. Nothing. Moved a foot to the right. The third time, he moved down a foot and a half. Pressed against the cold concrete. A seam appeared, the width of a door. Fergie gave it a gentle shove. The slab of concrete hissed aside.
“Very impressive,” Hershey said.
“Not bad,” said Dredd.
“Thanks,” Fergie said, “I’m underwhelmed by your support.” The door slid shut behind him. “If anyone’s interested, that thing hasn’t been used in a hell of a long time. Whoever’s coming in and out of this Janus deal has another way than this.”
“Good,” Dredd said. “Maybe they won’t expect us.”
“I’ll drink to that. Soon as we find a bar.”
“Scanner?” said Hershey.
“That way,” said Dredd.
The passage went another hundred yards, twisting in every direction, the floor slanting steadily down. Dredd noticed the absence of rats and guessed the reason why. He didn’t need the scanner now. He could feel the deep tremor of power. The rats didn’t like that at all. Dredd didn’t blame them. He hefted the Remington and nodded at Hershey. Hershey raised the Lawgiver above her head, telling him she got the warning and understood.
“Air.” Fergie sniffed. “Fresher than where we’ve been. Processed air.”
Dredd nodded. The corridor took a sharp turn to the left up ahead. “Douse the light,” he said. “Stay near.”
He moved past the corner. Hershey followed.
“We’re close,” she said softly. “I can feel the electricity in my hair. We’d better—DREDD!”
A blur of metal, cold and silver-bright. It whipped around Hershey’s waist, jerked her off her feet. The Lawgiver fell from her hands. Dredd brought his Remington up to fire, The robot was faster. An automatic weapon chattered in its free hand, stitching a deadly path. Fergie stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at the monster overhead.
“Down!” Dredd yelled. He started toward Fergie, knew he was a millisecond late. Fergie cried out, grabbed his chest, spun around twice and slammed into the concrete wall.
Dredd didn’t stop, couldn’t risk a look back. He bent low and stalked toward the big robot, blasting with the Remington, racking one shell into the chamber after the next, knowing he wasn’t even denting the metal warrior’s hide, that he didn’t dare fire at the brute’s face or its steel and copper gut. He might put a hole in the son of a bitch’s vital parts, but he might hit Hershey instead.
A bullet plowed a shallow furrow through the flesh of Dredd’s upper arm. The pain rocked him on his heels. He sucked in a breath, fired again and again.
Useless… not hitting anything… not even making the bastard mad…
Hershey screamed, kicking out against the robot’s grip. The warrior took a step toward Dredd, its massive foot sending a minor tremor through the earth. The other foot creaked, whirred, came down hard. Gray dust showered from the ceiling. Dredd threw himself aside, saw a flash of metal struts, hydraulics and coils, winking red lights, tucked behind the foot’s steel plates.
The robot turned, its gleaming arms whirring as it fired a volley at Dredd. Dredd felt flecks of stone slice his cheek. He rolled, came to his feet, held the Remington at his waist and blasted at the narrow slit in the robot’s metal joint.
A blue electric flash, a wisp of black smoke. Dredd fired again, saw the bright sizzle, heard the high-pitched whine as steel tendons snapped. A silver tube whipped free, writhed like a snake, and pumped dark and foul-smelling lubricants into the air.
The robot shuddered. Its brain said FORWARD MODE. One foot made it off the ground. The other didn’t budge. The robot roared like a prehistoric beast, teetered, then hit the floor like a quake, FORWARD MODE was still intact. The robot pounded its good foot against the ground, a jackhammer gone berserk.
Hershey was still in the robot’s grip. Dredd ran to her. Maybe he could find a handy tool somewhere, use the Remington to pry her free…
He heard the sigh of air, turned, saw the door slide open behind him. Rico. Rico and a woman. Both held weapons in their hands. He recognized the woman at once. Ilsa Hayden from Rico’s trial. What was she doing here?
“That’ll be enough,” Rico said. “Just put the weapon down.”
“No way. I shot this thing. I’m going to eat it.”
“That’s amusing, I’m sure.” Rico turned to the robot. “Fido, you clumsy bastard, if you don’t mind functioning a while, break Judge Hershey’s neck, please, on the count of three. One… two…”
“Hershey? You all right?”
“I’m—yes, I’m all right, Dredd.”
Dredd let the Remington fall from his hand.
Rico laughed. “How human of you. You’ve become a romantic, brother.” He motioned with his weapon. “Inside now. Fido, if the lady moves, crush her.”
Ilsa walked past Dredd. She glanced down at Fergie, rolled him over with her foot, shrugged, and turned away. When she bent to pick up Dredd’s weapon, she looked directly into Fergie’s eyes.
“Nice. A bit crude, but nice.”
“Watch her,” Rico said. “She’s a real tease, Dredd.”
“Where’s your boss?” Dredd said. “He let you out of your cage for the day?”
Rico shook his finger at Dredd. “If you’re trying to get on my good side, it won’t do you any good. I don’t have one.”
“Where’s Griffin?”
“Chief Justice Griffin has retired, so to speak. In his absence, I have assumed his responsibilities.”
“You mean you’ve killed him.”
Rico looked pained. “Me? Of course not. He had an accident with Fido. Doggie is not entirely housebroken, I’m afraid.”
Ilsa raised her weapon, closed one eye, and let the muzzle drop to the level of Dredd’s chest. “Rico said for you to move, dear. I think you should do what he says.”
Dredd didn’t answer. He walked toward the door where Rico and Ilsa had entered.
“He looks like you,” Ilsa said.
“He is a lot like me. Naturally.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Dredd said.
Rico turned on him. “Wrong, brother.” His eyes were slugs of lead. “The only difference between us is that you destroyed your life to embrace the Law. I destroyed the Law to embrace life.” He grinned at Ilsa. “That’s rather good, don’t you think? I need to write that down.”
He swept out his palm in a graceful motion, bowing slightly to Dredd. “After you, please. Step into the future, brother. This is how tomorrow looks. This is the way Rico’s world is going to be!”
Dredd stepped inside. Rico spread his arms wide. Half a million razor-points of light burned in the darkness overhead. Dredd felt the tingle of static in the air, the deep hum of energy below. He drew in a breath. A hundred columns of luminescent brightness rose up from the floor, glittering capsules, pods of azure blue, shimmering tubes of life. They stood erect in the clear blue fluid, clones, mutants, beings unborn and already alive. Dredd stared at a watery face—sharp planes, rigid neck. It opened its silver eyes and looked back.
Rico laughed. “This is the nursery, brother. Don’t you recognize it? This is where you were born.” He caught Dredd’s expression. “Don’t look at him with such distaste, Joseph. That isn’t just me in there. It’s you.”
Dredd felt the agony, the pain, and knew it wouldn’t go away. Rico had guessed his thought, seen the revulsion, the horror there. And Dredd knew he was right. It was true. Looking at the clone was like looking in a mirror at himself.
FORTY-ONE
Rico walked away from Dredd, turned, the shimmering pods at his back.
“Look at them, Joseph, your brothers. In a few hours they’ll be born. An endless supply of perfection. Now we have a choice: to create a race of robots like Fido out there or a race of free-thinking people and call them humans.”
“You’re diseased,” Dredd said. “You couldn’t control yourself; what makes y
ou think you can control them?”
Rico studied him a long moment, then looked away, up toward the swarm of glittering lights overhead.
“Why did you do it, Joseph? I’ve thought about it all these years. Why? Why did you judge me?”
“I didn’t have a choice. You killed innocent people.”
“Only as a means to an end, brother. You’re forgetting that.”
“That’s a lie you tell yourself. It was a massacre. Murder. You can’t call it anything else. You betrayed the Law.”
Rico laughed. “I was your blood, your brother. The only family you ever had. You sent me to my death and you talk to me about betrayal?” He jabbed his finger at Dredd. “You are the traitor, brother, not me! Do you want to be a slave all your life, do what you’re told to do, Joseph? You have the choice now. Them… or me!”
“You haven’t given me any choice. I have to stop you, Rico. If you want to stop me, you’ll have to kill me.”
Rico looked sad, then let his expression slide into a grin. “Well, I can certainly accomodate you, brother. But there’s no hurry, is there? Fido…” Rico looked past Dredd, through the great door of the Janus lab. “Bring Judge Hershey in here, then tear the bitch’s arms and legs off.”
Dredd didn’t move. “Don’t do it, Rico.”
“Or you’ll what, Joseph? Arrest me?” Rico’s eyes blazed. “Take this one too, Fido. Crush them. Let’s make some Judge soup!”
“Rico…” Ilsa stepped toward him.
“Stay away from me. Do as I say, Ilsa.”
Rico’s voice was calm, almost a gentle whisper. It scared the hell out of Ilsa.
The giant robot clanged through the doorway, scraping its metal hide. It dragged its bad foot. One red eye looked off a good twenty degrees.
Dredd saw Hershey in its grip. Hershey looked down. He tried to read her eyes. Something… not the way it ought to be.
“Take him,” Rico said. “Do it now.”
The robot stopped, whirred. Its blunt head swiveled on its hydraulic neck. A heavy foot stomped against the floor. It turned, then, dropped Hershey from its grasp, raised its hand and slammed Rico in the chest.