Neal Barrett - Judge Dredd

“Clear. Let’s go.”

Dredd started off, then abruptly raised his arm and stopped. The foodkart rounded the corner. It was moving slowly now, dragging a trail of garbage in its wheels. “… delicious and healthful rationpaks, piping hot and ready to eat …”

Dredd glanced at the robot and shook his head. Bending at the knees, he made his way swiftly down the hallway, listening to the walls. At 666, he stopped and raised his hand. Motioned Hershey to the left, Briscoe to the right.

“Lawful entry,” Dredd said aloud. “Suspicion of felons with illegal weapons inside.” He drew back a lever on his Lawgiver and blew the door apart.

Metal Jacket and Needle Teeth turned from the window and stared.

“D-Dredd!” Metal Jacket went white and swept his automatic weapon toward the door.

“Armed. Resisting Arrest.” The Lawgiver jerked in Dredd’s hands. Metal Jacket and Needle Teeth splattered against the wall and exploded in flames. Smoking flesh slid to the floor.

“This room is pacified,” said Dredd. “Hershey, stay with me. Briscoe, check the hall.”

“Yes, sir, you got it, Judge!”

“I have told you people not to use a gender address for a Judge,” Hershey said. “Don’t you ever listen, Roo— Briscoe, look out!”

Hershey saw the figure appear in the doorway. Briscoe was looking at Dredd. Purple Ears grinned, raised his pistol in a blur and shot Briscoe in the head. Hershey turned on the man but Judge Dredd was already there. He swept the Lawgiver in an arc and rammed the butt hard in Purple Ears’ gut.

Purple Ears dropped his weapon, gagged, and grabbed his belly. Dredd hit him again on the jaw. Hershey went to Briscoe at once. She raised his visor, saw what was there and shut her eyes.

Dredd looked at Briscoe for a full ten seconds. Then he stepped over to the man on the floor and poked him with his boot.

“You have obscenities written all over your head. Are you aware that’s a violation of the Law?”

Purple Ears looked up at Dredd. He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor and laughed.

“Hey. Are yous kiddin’ me or whats? You goin’ ’rest me or something, then do it, man!”

“Mega-City Municipal Code Three-Three-Four-Dash-Eight,” Dredd said. “Willful destruction of property. Two years.”

“Listen, pal—”

“Code Eleven-Dash-Fiver. Illegal possession of weapons. Five years. Code Thirty-Four-Dash-A. Resisting arrest. Twenty years…”

“All right!” Purple Ears raised his hands. “I gives up. You bes takin’ me in!”

“Niner-Eight-Zero-Four. Assault on a Judge with a deadly weapon…”

Purple Ears forced a weak grin through bloody teeth. “Don’t tell me. Life, right?”

“No,” Dredd said. “Death.”

He squeezed the trigger of his weapon. Squeezed it and didn’t stop. Purple Ears began to sizzle like bacon in a pan. Putrid steam rose up to the ceiling and the floor turned black.

Hershey swallowed hard but she wouldn’t look away. A Street Judge didn’t betray her feelings. She didn’t throw up. She maintained her cool at all times.

Dredd released the trigger.

“Court is adjourned,” he said.

Black-clad Judges, Mediks and Tekkies crowded the sixth-floor hallway of Heavenly Haven. Helmet spots bobbed in the grim surroundings, bringing more light to the murky walls and trashed-out floors than they’d seen in fifty years.

Briscoe’s body was the first one into the hall. The Mediks had scraped the remains of the three lawbreakers into one plastic bag, but Briscoe was one of their own. As the stretcher passed Hershey and Dredd, a gloved hand dropped from the blanket and swung limply above the floor. Hershey wanted to look away, but she forced herself to watch.

“He was a Rookie,” she said. “He was my Rookie. I was supposed to watch out for him, damn it!”

Judge Dredd shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself. He made the mistake, not you. His reactions were slow, judgement faulty. Didn’t concentrate on his work.”

Hershey turned on him and glared. “Well, that’s just great. I feel a lot better now. My God, Dredd, is that all you have to say? He got his face blown off his first week on the job!”

“He beat the odds, then. Mort-stats say five-point-seven days. If a Rookie gets past that, he’s got a four-in-seven chance of making it through the month. If he makes it past that—”

Dredd stopped. He raised a warning hand and cocked his head. Hershey followed his glance and saw a blur of motion down the hallway to their right. A quick snap of her chin brought the helmet spot to full, filling the corridor with harsh white light.

Hershey touched the butt of her weapon, then relaxed. The battered foodkart was rolling toward them again, wobbling drunkenly on its broken wheel.

“… ummm, ummmm, yumm! Healthful and nutritious rationpaks, ready to eat …”

“Somebody ought to turn that thing off,” Hershey said, “before it drives everyb—”

Dredd suddenly pushed her aside, stepped in the robot’s path, gripped his Lawgiver in both hands, and aimed it at the robot’s shiny dome.

“Halt! You have ten seconds to surrender. Ten… nine…”

“Dredd, take it easy,” Hershey said, “it’s a servo-droid.”

“… Make your selection, please. Insert your card in the slot …”

Dredd took one step forward and shoved the barrel of his weapon half a foot into the slot.

“… Make your select— oh, shit!”

The front of the robot came totally unhinged. Boxy foodpaks in drab shades of gray, brown, and mildew-green spilled onto the floor. Half a second later, Fergie tumbled out of the back. He blinked in the unfamiliar light, staring at Hershey and Dredd like an animal caught in the woods.

“Listen,” he said, “I know what you guys are thinking, but that’s the way it looks… I mean, that’s the way it is but it’s not the way it looks—”

Dredd grabbed Fergie by the collar, lifted him straight off the floor and slammed him hard against the wall.

“Wuuuuh, listen a minute, okay?” Fergie’s teeth rattled. He kicked his feet and grabbed at empty air.

“Mega-City Municipal Code One-Deuce-Niner-Six. Willful sabotage of a public droid. That’s six months, Citizen. Let’s see your card.”

“Come on, give me a break, Judge—Judge—” Fergie stared at the eagle and shield an inch before his eyes. “Judge— Dredd? Oh, my God…”

Fergie’s card fluttered out of his hand. Hershey snatched it out of the air. Snapping a scanner off of her weapons belt, she slipped Fergie’s card through the narrow slot once. A holo cube blossomed into life. Magenta words crawled across its face:

FERGUSON, HERMAN D.

MEGA-CITY 2, L.A.

SENTENCE: ASPEN PRISON

TIME SERVED: SIX MONTHS, THREE DAYS

PRISONER NUMBER: ASP-900764

CHARGES: TAMPERING OF CITY DROIDS…

COMPUTERS… CASH MACHINES… ROBO-TAXIS

RELEASED: MEGA-CITY 1, SENTENCE COMPLETED

Dredd scanned the rest of the message, and shook his head in disgust. “You got off of the shuttle this afternoon. You haven’t been out of jail five hours, Ferguson.” He turned to Hershey. “He’s a habitual. Automatic five-year sentence.”

“What!” Fergie turned white. “Five years? No, no way. Look, I didn’t have any choice. Those droogs were in my room. They hit me on the head. Come on, look at my head. Will you look at my head, just look at it, okay? What was I supposed to do, jump out the damn window!”

“It’s legal,” Dredd said.

“It’s suicide,” Fergie shouted. “It’s six floors down!”