Kingdom of the Blind

by David Bishop

Grissom nodded.

  "Terrif!" Scattergood scowled. "Take us closer to that satellite and prep a suit for EVA. Guess I'll have to go over there and place the charges myself."

  Bludd was enjoying the show. Since arriving at his new orbiting home he had savoured a gourmet meal, enjoyed a sexual liaison with Kara and was now ensconced in his command suite. Sat in a hovering chair, he watched a wall of Tri-D screens depicting a thousand scenes from across the Big Meg. That one plastic disc attached to Dredd's helmet was proving a boon, enabling Bludd's computers to eavesdrop on all Justice Department comms and surveillance systems. The crime boss could see and hear everything the Judges did. But he had one advantage over Hershey and her underlings; Bludd knew what was coming next.

  To Bludd's side Kara was busy keeping watch over Dredd's progress. The Judge had fled the crash site in City Bottom and was now making his way to the Grand Hall of Justice on foot. He was still several miles away, bleeding from multiple wounds and armed only with two stumm gas grenades and a daystick. It would be a miracle if he reached his destination in time.

  "How is the hunted man?" Bludd asked.

  Kara smiled at her lover. "Slowing down. He's torn open his old wounds and even the rapi-heal pads can't staunch the bleeding where Sue shot him." She could not keep the curiosity from her face. "Why are you making him do this? It doesn't advance our goals."

  "No, but it keeps Dredd busy. Before beginning this endeavour I analysed every significant threat to the Big Meg from the past forty years. In almost every case it was an intervention by Dredd that preserved Justice Department's position and saved the day if you like. Remove Dredd from the equation and our chances of success improve immeasurably."

  "Why not just kill the drokker?"

  "My dear Kara, I do not share your love of pain and death. To me murder is another weapon in my armoury. I do not kill when it is not required. Anyway, come midnight Dredd will be far too busy to worry about us anymore." Bludd swivelled his chair round to face a screen filled with Hershey's face. "It appears the Chief Judge is about to get some rest in a sleep machine. I think it's time I gave her another call, something else to worry about."

  Hershey was adjusting the settings on the sleep machine nearest her office when Bludd's call came through to her via Control. "Tut, tut, Chief Judge! Going to sleep on the job, are we?" the crime boss said.

  "How did you know-" Hershey stopped, realising the significance of what had been said. "You've got access to our comms network, the PSU. How?"

  "Let's just say I had some help from a new friend. He and I had a chat over some synthi-caf earlier this evening."

  "Dredd? He would never betray the department!"

  "Not willingly, no. But sometimes free will is just an illusion."

  "Spare me the cod philosophy," Hershey snarled. "What do you want?"

  "I've already told you, one hundred billion credits before midnight."

  "If you're able to see and hear everything we do, then you should already know our response - no deal. Mega-City One does not give in to blackmail!" The Chief Judge was striding back to her office, spitting out her words venomously.

  "It's more accurate to say the Justice Department of Mega-City One does not give in to blackmail," Bludd replied. "You haven't asked the people of Mega-City One what they think. Would they rather be proud and dead as you soon will be, or alive and a little poorer, as I am suggesting?"

  "The Big Meg isn't a democracy," Hershey said. "We choose what is best for the people, so they don't have to."

  "We'll see what they have to say about that after midnight. In the kingdom of the blind-"

  "-the one-eyed man is king. I know the quotation, Bludd. What does it signify?"

  "You'll see soon enough. Or perhaps you won't. I am transmitting the number for my offworld account to you now. Either agree to my request or all of Mega-City One shall suffer the consequences come midnight."

  "We have located the orbital platform where the energy pulse originated. Within minutes my Judges will have disabled your weapon permanently."

  "Perhaps," Bludd replied. "But I never said that was my only weapon, did I? Goodbye, Hershey. We shall speak once more at midnight. After that I doubt you will still be in charge of your city, unless you meet my demands."

  A brief crackle of static was followed by silence. Bludd was gone again. The Chief Judge called Niles at the PSU. "Well?"

  "Bludd bounced the signal through a dozen relays but he's definitely offworld. We've got an idea what quadrant, but beyond that..."

  "Drokk it!" Hershey cursed, letting her frustration escape. "You heard what he had to say about intercepting our comms?"

  "Yes. No doubt he can see all our surveillance feeds, as well as listening in to this conversation. We have a serious security problem."

  "Agreed. Meet me at the following location in twenty minutes." Hershey sent an encrypted message to Niles. "It's the one place we know is not covered by PSU surveillance, so it'll be safe to talk there. Hershey out."

  Dredd rounded a corner into a dark alley and leaned against a wall. Something was moving around inside him, probably a rib. With every step the broken bone was digging into him, its edge grinding into soft tissue. Blood was seeping freely from the entry and exit wounds where Sue had shot him, while his vision was blurring badly. Dredd rested his helmeted head against the wall and squinted at the skyline.

  In the distance a familiar building was glinting in the darkness, its many lights and levels a blurred smear of hope. The Grand Hall of Justice was close, perhaps a mile away or two at the most.

  "You better hurry, Dredd," Kara said via the Judge's helmet radio. "You've got less than an hour to reach the front steps. Judging by the trail of blood you're leaving behind, you'll be dead if you don't make it there before midnight."

  "Drokk you, creep," Dredd muttered.

  "Is that any way to speak to your guardian angel?"

  "You're no angel. I know you."

  "So you keep saying. I'd be more worried about the street gang approaching your location if I were you," Kara replied. "They should be with you right about... now."

  "What direction are they coming from?" Dredd demanded. "Answer me, damn you!"

  "I'll give you an answer," a different voice said. A female juve stepped out of the shadows, her face adorned with dozens of metal piercings, rings and chains. Her clothes were a mixture of rags and rubbereen, heavy on studs and symbols. In her hands she clutched a laser truncheon, its long metal tube surrounded by crackling blue energy. "But I don't think you'll like it, old man."

  "What have we got here, Myroid?" Another juve emerged from the darkness, clad in similar garb. Instead of a truncheon she was tossing a laser blade from hand to hand, careful not to slice off her fingers with its edges.

  "A Judge who's seen better days," Myroid said. "Ripe for ripping, Trace!"

  Three more females joined the others, forming a semi-circle around Dredd. All wore the insignia of their gang, the Slack Magic Sluts. Trace moved closer to the Judge, sneering at his weakened state. "Surprised he's still standing. Somebody been using you for target practice, old man?"

  "Punks like you don't impress me," Dredd replied. "I knew a real punk once, name of Spikes Harvey Rotten. He wore a hand grenade as an earring."

  Trace laughed out long, encouraging her gang members to join in. "What a joke! You're giving us jewellery tips now? What are the Judges coming to?"

  Dredd produced two stumm gas grenades he had taken from the med-wagon, having already pulled out the pins while the gang leader was talking to her disciples. "Here, try 'em." Dredd tossed a grenade each to Trace and Myroid, then pulled down the respirator from atop his helmet. Within seconds the alley was filled with debilitating fumes.

  "Cover your mouth and nose!" Trace commanded, but Myroid and two of the other juves had already succumbed to the gas. The Slack Magic Sluts' leader launched herself at where Dredd had been standing, flailing at the air with her laser blade while using her other hand to shiel
d herself from the fumes. But the Judge had already stepped aside, hiding among the thick clouds of stumm.

  The other gang member began backing away, having pulled a bandanna down from her forehead to cover her nose and mouth. She heard a noise and twisted round to find Dredd behind her. He pulled the cloth mask from her face. "Sweet dreams, punk!" he whispered.

  "Myroid, where are you?" Trace shouted, lost in the gas. "Cosmina? Meadow? Clamidia! Answer me, you drokkers!"

  "They can't," Dredd replied, moving closer to the gang leader. "They're having a nap."

  "Drokk you, lawman!" Trace screamed, hurling herself at the sound of his voice, laser blade stabbing down through the stumm fumes. It plunged into Clamidia's chest and stuck there. Dredd let go of the gang member he had been holding in front of himself as a human shield.

  "You just hurt one of your own, punk," he snarled, brandishing the daystick in his right hand. "Now it's my turn."

  It was three years since Scattergood had finished her training in an EVA spacesuit and she hadn't needed to use one since. Justice Seven took care of its own exterior, thanks to an army of nanobots crawling across the outside constantly searching for repairs to make. Spacesuits were only required in case of sudden evacuation or for manual tasks beyond the capabilities of the nanobots. Space-walking to the satellite housing the energy pulse weapon was just such a task, much to Scattergood's regret.

  Justice Seven's commander suffered from claustrophobia, something Psi-Division had detected when she was a cadet at the Academy decades ago. The condition was mild and deemed unlikely to impinge on her abilities as a street Judge. Even when she was appointed to the command of Justice Seven, the veteran law enforcer dismissed any suggestion her fear of enclosed spaces would be a problem. Yes, of course, she would be living inside a metal can but so would dozens of other operatives. There was plenty of room in space.

  It was only when the helmet was sealed shut and the straps tightened around her body that Scattergood felt the old fear and anguish begin to creep out from deep inside. The spacesuit was not the problem, it was the heavy strapping to keep her bound against the EVA rocket chair. This device gave her manoeuvrability in the vacuum of space, but also restricted any bodily movement. She was trapped, caught, confined.

  "Ma'am, we read your pulse rate and blood pressure accelerating. Everything alright in there?" Grissom asked. He had volunteered to be her EVA buddy, keeping tabs on her progress. Scattergood was already inside the airlock, waiting for the outer doors to open.

  "Just let me out of this tin can," she urged.

  "Acknowledged. Opening outer doors... now!"

  Dredd limped away from the alley, the stumm gas clearing to reveal the five bodies on the ground. He only had the daystick left to defend himself now but the Grand Hall of Justice was walking distance away. All four bounty hunters had been dealt with and it was doubtful two street gangs would patrol the same turf so close to the home of the Law.

  The Judge staggered onwards towards his goal. There were only minutes left until midnight. He could not and would not let this city down.

  Scattergood reached the cylindrical satellite with few difficulties. Just like riding a Lawmaster, she thought to herself with pride. Once you get the knack, you never fall off again. She powered down the EVA rocket chair and locked it in place beside the satellite. Clutching a belt laden with magnetic charges, Scattergood began clambering across the surface of the satellite. Justice Seven's commander could hear Grissom's instructions via her helmet radio. "You need to position those charges in specific places around the satellite, otherwise they will not be enough to destroy it. Okay, you're coming to the first vulnerable spot. Clamp that sucker down over the letter U in United."

  Scattergood removed the first charge from the belt and pressed it against the required spot. Once that was in place, she twisted a dial on the outer ring of the explosive device. A faint thumping sound indicated the magnetic lock had been activated. Scattergood tugged at the charge but it would not budge. "That's the first one fixed on, five more to go. Where next?"

  Bludd was amused to see a warning light appear on one of his Tri-D screens. "It seems Justice Seven has located our first weapon of choice," he told Kara cheerfully. "Start the countdown for firing, let's see how they react."

  Scattergood twisted the dial on the third magnetic charge. It thumped into place and resisted her attempts to dislodge it. "That's half of them done," she announced. "Where next, Grissom?"

  "About three metres round to your right, ma'am," the PSU analyst replied. "And you might want to hurry it up if you can."

  "Why?"

  "Our systems show the weapon is being powered up for ignition again. If you're still over there when it fires..."

  "Hotter than July?"

  "More like trying to get a tan on the surface of the sun."

  "Terrif," Scattergood muttered. "Moving to the next location."

  Dredd was less than a block from the Grand Hall when he heard the voice. "Going somewhere, Judge?" a Brit-Cit accent asked. Fincher stepped into view, positioning himself between Dredd and the Grand Hall. "I knew those stupid cows Di and Tattoo Sue would never get the better of you, but I thought I'd let them take their shot. With a spot of luck, they might do you some damage. I can see I was right. Some nasty wounds you've got there, mate."

  "I'm not your mate, scumbag."

  "Scumbag? Is that any way to talk to the best bounty hunter in Mega-City One? I'm going be more famous than Orlok the Assassin once I've offed you."

  "You've got to kill me to get the kudos, creep. Better men and women than you have tried, and failed."

  Fincher pulled out an old fashioned straight-bladed razor. "See this? It's an antique. I save it for special kills, the ones that mean something. You should be honoured, Dredd, not many people get to feel my straight razor as it slices through their neck. Course, you won't feel much of anything once I've done with you. Bludd wants your badge, but I think I'll take your head as a trophy. Probably charge people for a peek under that helmet of yours, see what Old Stony Face really looks like."

  Dredd leaned one hand against a wall for support. "You planning to kill me with that thing or talk me to death?"

  The Brit smiled, revealing a mouthful of decaying teeth and gums. "Don't you worry, mate, you'll be dead soon enough. I just wanted you to know that this isn't personal but strictly business. I've got a lot of admiration for you, Dredd."

  "It isn't mutual."

  "I mean, there's probably not a bone in that body hasn't been broken at some point. How long you been on the streets now? Thirty years? Forty? And top of the game for all that time. The undisputed world heavyweight champion when it comes to law enforcement, until today."

  "You know what I hate most about punks like you?"

  "Today I'll be putting an end to your brilliant career. This is the end of the line, Dredd. How does it feel to meet your match at last?"

  "They can talk the talk, but they can't walk the walk."

  "How does it feel to meet the man who's going to end your life?"

  "Like you Brits say - all mouth but no trousers."

  Fincher's smile faded. "You're gonna pay for that, mate. I was gonna finish you off nice and quick, as a mark of respect. Now I think I'll take my time instead, savour the moment."

  "Don't rush on my account." Dredd drew his daystick from its leathereen strap. "You bring anything besides that razor?"

  "It's all I need to finish you."

  "We'll see." Dredd suddenly threw the daystick at Fincher.

  The bounty hunter was surprised but still had time to duck out of the way. He burst out laughing, looking over his shoulder at the fallen weapon. "Is that the best you can do, old man?" Fincher turned round again to find Dredd drawing back a fist, ready to strike.

  "No," Dredd hissed. "Try this!"

  "Energy Pulse weapon is almost ready to fire again," Kara reported. Bludd was watching Scattergood clamp magnetic charges to the cylindrical satellite, using the sa
me surveillance feed as Grissom had on Justice Seven.

  The crime boss smiled to himself as he gave fresh orders to Kara. "Reposition so the weapon is taking aim at the department's orbital platform. Let the Judges know what it's like to be at the wrong end of a weapon for once."

  Scattergood finished clamping the fifth charge to the exterior of the satellite. She reached for the final magnetic device. "Alright, just one left. Where should this one..."

  "Grissom to Scattergood, can you hear me? What's wrong? Ma'am-"

  "The satellite's manoeuvring thrusters are active!" Scattergood replied. "It's changing target! Grissom, how long before this thing can fire again?"

  "The energy pulse is ready now, ma'am. Bludd just needs to lock on target and he can fire whenever he wants."

  "Stomm," Scattergood hissed. She hurriedly reached for the last magnetic charge but her fingertips only brushed its edge. The device floated away from her, banging against the side of the satellite. Scattergood grabbed at its clamps and got hold of one. "Grissom, where do I put this last charge?"

  "Two metres above your current position, ma'am - and make it snappy!" Fear was evident in the PSU analyst's voice.

  "Why? What's wrong now?"

  "The satellite - it's taking aim at Justice Seven!"

  Dredd smashed his fist into Fincher's face, sending the Brit sprawling backwards. The straight razor tumbled from the bounty hunter's hand as Dredd followed up with a boot into the fallen man's crotch. Fincher screamed out in agony, the breath hissing between his teeth.

  "Christ, me bollocks!" he whimpered, curling up into a foetal position, one hand stretched outwards in anguish.

  Dredd crouched beside the stricken murderer. "Two blows, that's all it took to stop you, punk. So much for the great pretender."