by David Bishop
JUDGE DREDD
KINGDOM OF THE BLIND
Inside the cube was a decapitated head, face down. It had been severed above the larynx, the neck neatly sliced through as though it were a joint of cooked meat. The lack of blood indicated the use of a laser blade, cauterising the wound as it cut. Dredd sniffed the air, recognising a familiar odour.
"Roasted flesh," one of the Med-Judges commented. "Probably from the wounds to the forehead. They must have used the tip of the laser to cut into the skin there, leaving that message for you."
Dredd reached into the package and turned the head round to see its face. Lifeless eyes stared up at him accusingly. Two words were visible on the forehead, each letter burnt into the skin: NICE TRY.
JUDGE DREDD
#1: DREDD VS DEATH
Gordon Rennie
#2: BAD MOON RISING
David Bishop
#3: BLACK ATLANTIC
Simon Jowett & Peter J Evans
#4: ECLIPSE
James Swallow
#5: KINGDOM OF THE BLIND
David Bishop
#6: THE FINAL CUT
Matthew Smith
#7: SWINE FEVER
Andrew Cartmel
#8: WHITEOUT
James Swallow
#9: PSYKOGEDDON
Dave Stone
MORE 2000 AD ACTION
JUDGE ANDERSON
#1: FEAR THE DARKNESS - Mitchel Scanlon
#2: RED SHADOWS - Mitchel Scanlon
#3: SINS OF THE FATHER - Mitchel Scanlon
THE ABC WARRIORS
#1: THE MEDUSA WAR - Pat Mills & Alan Mitchell
DURHAM RED
#1: THE UNQUIET GRAVE - Peter J Evans
ROGUE TROOPER
#1: CRUCIBLE - Gordon Rennie
STRONTIUM DOG
#1: BAD TIMING - Rebecca Levene
FIENDS OF THE EASTERN FRONT - David Bishop
#1: OPERATION VAMPYR
#2: THE BLOOD RED ARMY
#3: TWILIGHT OF THE DEAD
For Steve MacManus, the unsung hero of 2000 AD.
A 2000 AD PUBLICATION
www.abaddonbooks.com
www.2000adonline.com
First published in 2004 by BL Publishing, Games Workshop Ltd., Willow Road, Nottingham NG7 2WS, UK.
1098 7 65 4321
Cover illustration by Julian Gibson.
Copyright © 2004 Rebellion A/S. All rights reserved.
All 2000 AD characters and logos © and TM Rebellion A/S."Judge Dredd" is a registered trade mark in the United States and other jurisdictions."2000 AD" is a registered trade mark in certain jurisdictions. All rights reserved. Used under licence.
ISBN(.epub): 978-1-84997-056-3
ISBN(.mobi): 978-1-84997-097-6
A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
JUDGE DREDD
KINGDOM OF THE BLIND
DAVID BISHOP
Judge Dredd and Judge Giant created by John Wagner & Carlos Ezquerra.
Chief Judge Hershey created by John Wagner & Brian Bolland.
Psi-Judge Karyn created by Alan Grant & Dean Ormston.
Mega-City One, 2126
PROLOGUE
In a metropolis not short of oddly shaped buildings, the Mega-City One Museum of the Twentieth Century still succeeded in bewildering most who saw it. Designed by architectural genius Foster St Normandy, the museum had been conceived as a fifty-storey replica of a handheld vacuum cleaner. Few people recognised the resemblance because even fewer still owned such a device, once eponymously known as a Dustbuster. In the year 2126 such objects were museum pieces, antiques from a bygone age before the advent of cheap domestic robots.
To Foster St Normandy, this was the point of his award-winning and controversial design. The building was to be filled with relics from the twentieth century, so why not have the building itself resemble one of those relics? To the citizens' committee that approved his design without ever seeing it, the end result was a fifty-storey embarrassment. The committee became a laughing stock and the building, inevitably, became known as the Dustbuster.
None of that mattered to Judge Dredd as he waited in the shadows of McGraw Alley opposite the museum. He had been inside the building once before, pursuing a perp through the displays of tea-towels, digital watches and real paper books. Now the lawman was planning to take another look - if Jesus Bludd ever arrived. The Judge activated his motorcycle helmet radio.
"Dredd to Control, am in position. Where's our target?"
"Control to Dredd, he's en route to you now. ETA - three minutes."
"That's a roj." Dredd cut short the transmission before turning to the nervous juve behind him. "Get ready. He's nearly here."
Blake Ryan nodded, teeth biting into his bottom lip. Seven days ago he had been just another twelfth year cadet, one of more than a hundred approaching the end of their training at the Academy of Law. Anyone wanting to become a Judge in Mega-City One was required to undergo thirteen years of intensive study and tuition, passing many stringent tests and checks before being empowered to dispense instant justice. Once they graduated, each new law enforcer would have the authority to act as judge, jury and - when necessary - executioner. For this responsibility they foreswore love and sex, devoting almost every waking moment to upholding the Law. They could be killed at any moment by a perp and had to be willing to kill just as quickly.
Ryan had been unsure what to expect when called to the Academy administration office a week earlier. His marks had been good, his report from the last Hotdog Run excellent, and nobody could fault his attention to duty or detail. But one doubt had niggled at him. A few hours before receiving the summons, Ryan had been among a group of cadets subjected to a random psi-scan. Such incidents were commonplace, designed to detect any mental aberrations that might indicate a cadet was unsuitable for the badge. Could he have failed without even realising it after twelve years of study?
The red-haired cadet had reported promptly to the administrator's office to find a senior street Judge waiting for him. But it was not just any Judge - it was Dredd! The man was a living legend, someone all the cadets aspired to emulate. He had saved the Big Meg on countless occasions over the years from threats like the alien superfiend Judge Death or agent provocateur Orlok the Assassin. Dredd had risked his life time and again for the city and its four hundred million residents, without asking for, or expecting any thanks. Even his books on judicial comportment were set texts at the Academy.
Meeting this mythic figure for the first time, Ryan was surprised by the Judge's appearance. Rather than being mighty or muscular, Dredd was trim and lean, his body all sinew and coiled energy. He might be pushing sixty but his back was still ramrod straight, posture upright and imposing.
From what Ryan could see beneath the helmet, Dredd's face was grizzled and gaunt, a line for every year on the streets etched into the impassive features. And that voice - a rasping growl of rockcrete and iron, heavy with authority and gravitas.
Ryan had begun stammering something but Dredd quickly interrupted, cutting straight to the point. "I had all the cadets from your year scanned earlier today. Out of them, you scored highest in the criteria sought," he growled. "Your thoughts are almost impenetrable to direct psi-probing."
Ryan had nodded. This unusual capacity had been noted years before.
It was a useful gift but would be of limited application on the streets.
"Do you recognise the name Jesus Bludd?"
The seventeen year-old cadet did and said so. Part of his training included a study of the major figures in Mega-City One's criminal underworld. There had been a power vacuum following the demise of gang boss Nero Narcos five years earlier. Bludd was among those who emerged from the shadows to claim some of the territory Narcos involuntarily vacated. But unlike the others, Bludd kept his face out of the news media. Rather than trying to foster a cult of personality, he worked hard at remaining invisible, always staying one step removed from those who enforced his will. Bludd had never served time for any crime; he was untouchable. But the stain of his influence had been spreading.
Ryan related all of this before Dredd spoke again. "We have been trying to get an undercover operative close to Bludd for years. But he surrounds himself with psykers, powerful mindreaders able to detect any Wally Squad Judge trying to infiltrate Bludd's inner circle. No one sent in undercover has ever returned alive." Dredd uncrossed his arms and leaned forward to watch Ryan's face. "We have received word that Bludd is making a rare excursion from his penthouse to visit the Dustbuster. He has tickets to see the Evil Empire exhibit that's just opened in the 1980s section. We want you to make contact with him there. With luck, you might succeed where others have failed."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you will receive a funeral with full judicial honours. Well?"
"How will I make contact?"
One week on and he was primed for meeting one of the Big Meg's most dangerous crime bosses. Tutors from Psi-Division had worked round the clock to enhance his mental defences, implanting the roots of his cover story deep into Ryan's psyche. Academy records were forged and the cadet summarily expelled for gross insubordination and violent misconduct. The best dunks in the cubes had been training Ryan in the art of picking pockets. Now all that remained was a close encounter with Jesus Bludd.
Dredd rested a hand on the cadet's shoulder. "There's still time to change your mind. Nobody will think any less of you. This assignment is voluntary. No demerits will be placed on your file if you back out, even now."
Ryan did not hesitate. He was proud to be chosen and ready to risk his life. Every day on the streets as a Judge would be dangerous, he told himself, so there was no point shying away from the life that came with the badge. If he completed this mission and returned alive, it would mean an instant upgrade to full eagle status and a commendation on his record. "I'm ready," he told Dredd.
"Good," the Judge replied. "You better get inside."
Jesus Bludd sighed as his hoverpod flung itself through the sky above Mega-City One. It was too long since he had been out of the penthouse. Life atop Emil Jannings Block was luxurious, but Bludd was a child of the streets. He had grown up fighting for his life on City Bottom and still felt a wistful nostalgia for those days. It was nonsense, of course. Nobody wanted to scratch out such a meagre existence. But he could not deny the thrill that living on his wits had offered.
"Are they still watching us?"
"Yes," the woman beside him replied. She studied a holographic patchwork of tiny screens, her hands pulling different images forward to be studied before being cast aside. "PSU cameras have not let this vehicle out of their sight since we left Emil Jannings."
Bludd nodded, light gleaming off his coarse black hair, the locks slicked-back close to the scalp. His was an unremarkable face but for the implacable, intelligent eyes and cruel mouth. Bludd's tongue frequently darted out, like a serpent, to moisten his lips. His neck was almost as broad as his head, leading down into powerful, muscular shoulders. He had a heavyset body but the bulk was born of muscle, not fat. He dressed in a dark blue tunic and trousers, unadorned by the usual kneepads or accessories most ordinary citizens wore. "Such attention is only to be expected. We don't give them many chances to observe our movements so closely, do we my dear?"
Kara smiled, switching off the holo-screens. Like Bludd she was in her early thirties, her face unlined by age or injury. Her body was trim and taut, every sinew detailed by the skin-tight garment of black silk that clung to her. She was wearing a blonde wig cut into an asymmetrical bob, the fringe sloping from left to right across her forehead. Stark black and white make-up heightened the angularity of her features, a tear of mascara drawn on to one cheek. "No, we don't. Shall we go down now?"
Her lover smiled. "I was wondering when you would ask."
Several minutes later the hoverpod shuddered to a halt outside the museum, its robot chauffeur emerging to hold open the passenger door. Kara stepped out first, slyly wiping a trickle of moisture from the corner of her mouth. Bludd followed, his face wearing a broad smile as they strolled inside.
The museum's curator, Doctor Janet Swanson, was waiting for them. Clad from head to toe in tweed, her severe features did their best to look welcoming. "Mr Bludd, so wonderful of you to accept our invitation. It's not often we have the chance to thank one of our most generous benefactors-"
Bludd waved away her sycophancy. "Any other self-respecting businessman would have done the same," he responded. "The chance to see this unique exhibit of artefacts from the late twentieth century was irresistible."
Dr Swanson nodded enthusiastically. "Let me escort you directly to the 1980s. As you may know, we have divided the building into decades, with five floors devoted to each era. To reach the 1980s we will have to take the turbolift to the forty-second level..."
Ryan was already in the section devoted to 1982 when Bludd arrived. The cadet did his best to look fascinated at displays about an actress called Meryl Streep and her career, but let his eyes wander towards the new arrival. Bludd closely resembled the images previously captured by PSU cameras, despite those pictures being at least a year old. Ryan recognised the museum's curator from his briefings. The other woman must be Bludd's confidante and executioner, Kara. Her appearance was as intimidating as her reputation. The cadet could feel her mind reaching into his as she passed, expertly probing his psyche. Ryan concentrated on blocking her, letting just a hint of his recent experiences leak out as a tease.
The cadet waited until the trio were well past before hurrying after them. He did not know how long Bludd planned to stay at the museum, nor the purpose of the crime boss's visit. The dusty contents of this facility were not an obvious target for illegal activity. Bludd and his party strolled into a new exhibit entitled "EVIL EMPIRE: The Cold War and its Casualties". Perhaps this offered some clue? Ryan pushed the thought from his mind, concentrating instead on the task at hand. His job was simple; to pick the pocket of Jesus Bludd.
Getting close to the big man was surprisingly easy. In the Evil Empire display room, Kara and Dr Swanson stood to one side, deep in conversation. Ryan noticed the blonde-haired woman's hand lingering on the curator's arm, a gesture of physical familiarity. Bludd himself was standing before the main exhibit, a precise recreation of the United States of America's command and control centre for its many weapons of mass destruction. The centrepiece of the display was an android of a US president, his hand lingering above a red button on a black box. A mechanical voice explained the tableau's significance for anyone unfamiliar with the historical events being depicted.
"During the 1980s, long before atomic war ravaged North America, the country was ruled by a former actor, Ronald Reagan. He voiced hawkish rhetoric against the Soviet Union, an old ideological enemy and a forerunner of today's Sov Block citi-states. Reagan described the Soviets as the 'Evil Empire', a name we have adopted for this exhibition. But during Reagan's time in office it was the US President who sponsored the development of terrifying new weapons of mass destruction, many of them being sent into orbit above the Earth for deployment in case of a global calamity. Here you can see the president, his finger poised over the fateful button, ready to declare war on his enemies. Ultimately, Reagan never launched an overt worldwide conflict and the much-feared nuclear war did not eventuate until the
era of Bad Bob Booth, nearly a hundred years later..."
Ryan sidled closer to Bludd as the mechanical voice continued. The cadet had seen what would happen next and knew his opportunity was fast approaching. The robotic Ronald Reagan reached forward and pressed the red button. The lights illuminating the chamber dipped suddenly and a holographic mushroom cloud appeared in front of Bludd, startling him. He staggered back in surprise, bumping into Ryan. As they collided, the juve slipped his hands into Bludd's pockets, fingers closing around the contents.
Dredd was watching all of this on his Lawmaster motorcycle's computer screen. The video feed from the museum's security cameras was being routed via the Public Surveillance Unit so Dredd and other Judges involved could see everything as it happened.
"Ryan's gone for his dunk," Dredd announced into his helmet radio. "All units, be ready to move if Bludd reacts. Otherwise stay back."
On screen the juve stepped away from his victim, clutching a black notebook. Bludd did not shift, all his attention focused on the display. A voice crackled in Dredd's ear. "What do we do? Our boy's moving away and the target doesn't seem to have noticed. Should we move in?"