Judge Dredd

EIGHT

The room was small.

The walls were painted a rich shade of blue. There were three comfortable chairs, an antique glass table and a video screen mounted on the wall. The room was just off the hallway leading to the Chamber of the Council of Judges. It was used as a waiting room for those occasions when the Council allowed officials, high administrators, and prominent Citizens to bring their business before them.

This was not such an occasion. The session that was about to begin was closed to all but the Council members themselves. And, though no one would admit where they’d heard such information, it was said that this meeting was an emergency session of the gravest order. Even those who had no reliable source in high places had reason to believe this was so. There was only one topic of note in Mega-City at the moment, the only subject covered on the video news: Terror was loose in the streets, and the city was caught in a web of fear.

“This is Vardis Hammond, and I’m standing in front of the ruins of Heavenly Haven Block. As you can see behind me, city workers are still busy sifting through the burned and twisted debris from the savage battle that took place earlier this evening. Fifty-three Citizens have been hospitalized… five of them children. The death count is nineteen so far, and many victims are still on the critical list. The perpetrators themselves are among the dead. They have tentatively been identified as ‘crazed squatters’ who were allegedly killed in Summary Execution by Judge Dredd himself. The number of squatters involved has yet to be determined, due to the difficulty in separating the individual bodies…”

Judge Dredd looked at the video screen, but paid little attention to what he saw. He stood in the center of the room, his helmet under his arm. He did not consider sitting in one of the chairs. It made him uncomfortable to place his body in a position where precious seconds might be lost if he were called upon to act quickly. This was how Judges lost their lives, by letting their guards down for that one single instant when they should have been fully alert. This was why Rookie Briscoe was dead. He had taken his mind off his business for the blink of an eye. It seldom took longer than that.

Dredd turned as the door to the hallway slid aside. He came to attention and nodded his head in respect as Chief Justice Fargo walked into the room.

“Joseph, Joseph, no formalities, please.” He smiled warmly at Dredd. “You make me feel like an old man. Which is precisely what I am, by the way.”

“If we had a hundred men like you, sir, we could clean up Mega-City by morning.”

Fargo shook his head. “I’d call that blatant flattery if it came from any other man. Coming from you, I take it as a sincere compliment. A great exaggeration, but a compliment all the same.”

The Chief Justice sighed and lowered himself into a chair. “Sit down, Joseph, please. I appreciate you coming.” He glanced at his watch. “This won’t take long. I have to be in session in a few minutes.”

Dredd knew better than anyone else how serious the situation was becoming in the streets. He had been there and seen it, and he had an idea what this session was all about. Even if he hadn’t been aware of the meeting, he could not have missed the lines of fatigue around Fargo’s eyes, the deep sense of concern that seemed to slow his steps and weigh him down.

For the first time in a lifelong association with Fargo, Dredd saw past his image of a man who was indestructable, as strong and enduring as Mega-City itself. Now he saw a man who seemed even older than his seventy years, a man dragged down by the hounds of adversity that forever snapped at his heels.

Dredd had trained himself to bury those feelings that might intrude upon the task he had set himself to do. He did not want to experience love or hate. He did not wish to want or need anyone or anything. Yet, when he saw what was happening to Fargo, how the man was disintegrating before his eyes, Dredd felt a mix of sorrow, rage, and despair that he couldn’t cast aside.

“I think you know I have always taken a special interest in your career, Joseph. I also know there are certain others who—very much resent the fact. I do not regret my actions, and I do not apologize. I have always tried to do what is best for the cause that I serve.”

Dredd sat on the edge of the chair, his back straight. “I know what you’ve done for me, and I greatly appreciate it, sir.”

Fargo looked intently at Dredd. His body might be aging, but his eyes still mirrored the strength and power that had inspired two generations of Judges.

“Tell me, Joseph. The… Summary Executions at Heavenly Haven. Were they… absolutely necessary?”

“Unavoidable, sir.”

“Unavoidable…” Fargo glanced away, lost in thought for a moment. “We make our own reality, don’t we Joseph? The severity of those executions. Were they unavoidable, too?”

Dredd felt the color rise to his face. “With all due respect, sir, a Rookie Judge died out there today, too. Times have changed in the city. Life doesn’t mean much to some people anymore. You’d be able to see that if you weren’t—”

Fargo raised an eyebrow. “If I weren’t what, Joseph?”

“Always at the—Academy, sir.”

Fargo allowed the beginning of a smile to crease his features. “Don’t you mean at the Academy wiping Cadets’ asses? That’s what they say in the squad room, isn’t it?”

Dredd cleared his throat. “That’s irrelevant, sir. You set the standards, Chief Justice Fargo.”

“No, that’s not true.” Fargo wet his lips. “Now, you do… to the young Cadets you’re a legend.”

“I don’t feel much like a legend, sir.”

“We don’t decide what we are. They do… Do you remember your time at the Academy, Joseph?”

“I remember what you taught me, sir.”

Fargo studied the ceiling. “And I remember a Cadet who embraced Justice. The ideals as well as the lessons. My finest student—out of all the thousands I have been privileged to congratulate as a newly-appointed Judge… you are the best, Judge Dredd.”

“Thank you, sir. The compliment is undeserved, but I am grateful for your words.”

“Fine, fine.” Fargo pulled himself erect and glanced at his watch. He seemed to have regained his powers, called upon a new reserve of strength.

“I’m going to give you a chance to pay some of your debts to the Academy that made you what you are. I have found the experience most satisfying, and I’m sure you will as well.” He rested a hand on Dredd’s shoulder. “I have drawn a new assignment for you. Starting tomorrow morning, you’ll be spending two days a week at the Academy.”

“I would be honored, sir. Unarmed combat or marksmanship?”

Fargo grinned. “Ethics, Joseph. The moral code of the Judges, Article Twenty-two. I’ll drop by and see how you’re doing.”

Fargo placed his helmet on his head and lowered the visor. “Tradition has its purpose, Joseph. There are some of those old buzzards in the Council I cannot stand to look at anymore. And I’m certain many of them feel the same about me.”

Dredd didn’t move for several minutes after Chief Justice Fargo left the room. He had known and revered the man all his life. He thought he knew him as well as any man could know another who was much older in years, and held such an exalted position in the profession they had both chosen for themselves.

Yet, he had no idea why Fargo had given him Academy duties—especially at this time, when every experienced Judge was needed on the streets.

Even if he could make a wild guess at the Chief Justice’s reasons, Dredd knew he’d probably be wrong. Fargo’s mind was like one of those antique boxes. The secret in the first box was another box. And within that box…

Dredd thrust the thought aside. It was a waste of time to try to get one step ahead of Fargo. His friends and enemies—within and without the Judges—had tried it for years. Most of them were dead or defeated. And the Chief Justice himself was still there.

Dredd was aware that Vardis Hammond was still on the video behind him, still doing his best to look grave, intense, intelligent, and informed in the ruined street before Heavenly Haven:

“… Some say that working these mean streets day after day is bound to have a dehumanizing effect on the Judges. But is it the streets or the Judges themselves that have created this atmosphere of savagery.

“As my special undercover report continues tomorrow night, I’ll take you behind the walls of the Hall of Justice for a disturbing probe into these recent riots and block wars. Coincidence or deliberate provocation? That’s tomorrow with Vardis Hammond…”

Dredd glared at the screen. “What the hell do you know?” he said aloud. “You want to see a disturbing probe? Give me a call, I’ll show you a disturbing probe, pal!”