As the Judges moved on, this ‘bubble of compliance’ moved with them whilst those left behind breathed a sigh of relief.
Oblivious to the effect they were having on those around them, the Judges had a moment to reflect on their experiences of the past few weeks and the relationships that were beginning to form within their team. New to the realities of the street as he was, Wily found that he was experiencing an unfamiliar feeling, one that the Academy did its best to eliminate from all Judges before they made Full Eagle. In fact, Wily was unable to register that what he was really feeling was simple human fear, so alien had it become as a concept. Instead, he identified a general unease, putting it down to a simple case of nerves as he settled into his new life. He was sure that his next assessment with the Watch Commander would be favourable, as his team had been successful thus far. Yet though he remained unsettled, he felt a growing attachment to his team members. Muller was just…Muller. On the surface a simple predator and happy to be so, comfortable with the brutal necessities of dealing with lawbreakers in the Big Meg. Yet below the surface, Wily had detected a sharp mind and a willingness to see other points of view. Kowalski was likewise becoming more of a known quantity to him, or at least as far as any Psi Judge could be a known quantity. Although she seemed to live on the edge of neurosis for much of the time, she could absolutely be relied on in a tough situation. And Hart, well: glancing over at his companion as he hunched over the tank of his Lawmaster, Wily caught a perfect profile of his jutting chin. Every Judge of Wily’s generation would have that profile etched into her or his mind. Dredd. Wily couldn’t imagine the scrutiny that Hart would be under as one of the final Fargo clones produced, and frankly he didn’t think Hart would even admit to himself the pressure he would be under. But still he wondered if, deep down in Hart’s mind, he didn’t sometimes feel doubt that he was equal to his heritage. It was bad enough for any Judge; how much worse must it be for Hart?
Hart was oblivious to all of this, of course. Both his heritage and his upbringing in the hardest School of Hard Knocks in existence meant that introspection was a luxury he rarely allowed himself. When it came to the future and his life on the street, the only word that he would have used (if pressed) was ‘excitement’. After all, it was what he was bred for. Regarding his fellow Judges, again if asked he would have lavished the highest praise he could think of: they were weird, but there were worse Judges out there...
Wily was shaken from his thoughts by a sudden burst of static from his helmet comms, followed by the words that made every Judge’s adrenaline spike: ‘All units, this is Control! 99 Code Red in progress, all units respond!’ Wily’s superbly disciplined instincts took over instantly; the incident location was close to them, on the Vincent Price Underzoom. Known as the ‘Six Feet Under’ zoom, it was an area which had been badly damaged in the Apocalypse War and had been patched up repeatedly over the intervening period. As such, spycam coverage was patchy at best, and residual radiation meant that comms were notoriously unreliable meaning that it was a favourite haunt of wreckers and other vehicle-based lawbreaking. Looking over at Hart, he assessed the tactical position. He and Hart were on their way to investigate an increase in illegal mutant activity in the run-down area of the Sector known as ‘Shoddy Lane’. Meanwhile, Muller had been called away to other duties and Kowalski was back at the Sector House undergoing yet another psych-eval of her fitness for street duty. But although his team was at half-strength, they were still the nearest and a 99 Code Red superseded anything short of a full-scale Block War. Instantly, the decision was made: ‘Control, Wily here. Tac-Team en route!’
Hart and Wily reached the reported location in just a few minutes, the endless hours spent on real and simulated Lawmasters standing them in good stead. Hart took in the situation in a heartbeat; a crashed Lawmaster lay on its side ahead of them, a Judge apparently trapped beneath it. Standing over the Judge was a perp wearing some sort of face mask and holding a hand gun of some sort; behind the standing perp was a wheeled vehicle with four other perps inside wearing similar facemasks and wielding weapons. Roaring along on their bikes, the Judges were on the perps in an instant. Wily went wide, looking to cut off the perps in the van as it accelerated away, fish-tailing as it went. Hart went straight for the perp standing over the downed Judge. Instead of slowing down, Hart gunned the throttle and was rewarded by the sight of the perp’s mouth forming a round ‘O’ of horror as he realised what was about to happen to him. As the perp tried to raise his weapon, a final twist of the throttle brought up the front wheel of the Lawmaster in line with the perp’s chest. Deftly manoeuvring around his downed comrade, the crushing impact of the super-wide ‘Firerock’ tyre sent the perp flying backwards over the edge of the zoom onto another roadway below. As he fell, the perp caught the middle of his back on the barrier of the zoom below with a sickening jolt and was propelled into the middle of the slab. Hart grimaced as the perp rose shakily to his feet, in a rare break in traffic and apparently without serious injury. As the perp looked up at Hart, he began to raise his hand in a mocking salute…when suddenly he was hit side on-by a robo-hauler travelling at top speed. The resulting pink mist told Hart all he needed to know, and looking back at the fallen Judge, he was rewarded with the sight of a hand signalling him to continue the pursuit. Grinning, Hart accelerated away with a screech of rubber on rockcrete.
Meanwhile, Wily was exchanging shots with the perps on the wildly-swerving van. He’d picked off at least one of the perps, but he’d taken some shrapnel in return. Hearing Hart’s growl over his helmet comms, Wily became aware of a blurred shape speeding past him. It was only when he heard the phrase ‘Hi-Ex!’ that he realised Hart’s plan. Bringing his Lawmaster over until it was almost horizontal, Hart fired the specialised shell below the speeding getaway vehicle at such an angle that the resulting explosion was almost entirely directed upwards, away from the road and into the bottom of the van. Cushioned on a pillar of fire, the van hopped into the air and crashed onto its side with a screech of metal, sparks flying everywhere. As the van came to a halt, Wily simply gave Hart a terse ‘I had it’ whilst Hart grinned back at him. Over his shoulder, Wily could see the surviving perps climbing from the wreckage unsteadily with their hands raised, noting that they too were wearing similar masks to their deceased comrade.
Whilst Hart checked in with Control, Wily spotted a beaten-up Lawmaster approaching them from behind. As it came closer, he half-raised his hand in greeting, his eyes widening as he recongised a face almost as familiar to him as Dredd’s. Grinning lopsidedly, the Lawmaster’s rider pulled up and made a show of kicking out a bike stand that no longer existed, having been destroyed in the crash. As she walked towards Wily, the Lawmaster teetered for a moment before crashing to the slab. The Judge they had assisted wore no helmet, revealing a shock of blonde hair and a piercing pair of eyes. Wily didn’t need to see the ‘Psi’ label on her badge to know that this was none other than Judge Anderson of Psi-Div. She thanked Wily and Hart for the assistance, watching Hart quizzically as he methodically processed the perps for transfer to the Sector House. When asked why she was in the Sector, Anderson’s eyes tightened. ‘Just a hunch that there was trouble brewing here’ she said. ‘When I heard about your run-in with the so-called Radley Coven, I just felt there was more to this than meets the eye.’ She looked directly at Wily and shrugged; ‘When you’ve lived through what I’ve lived through and seen what I’ve seen, you learn to trust your instincts’.
Whilst they’d been talking, a Med-Wagon had arrived on-scene and Wily turned to jump aboard, waving at Wily and Hart over her shoulder. For some reason Wily felt he should do more than just say farewell, and without thinking he held out his clenched fist for what a juve would call a ‘fist bump’. Head on one side, Anderson stared at Wily’s outstretched fist and for a moment he thought she’d leave him hanging, but suddenly her face creased into a smile and she bumped her fist against his before leaping aboard the Med Wagon, her legs dangling over the edge as she was taken back to the Sector House for treatment. Wily found himself grinning widely as he turned away, only to see Hart regarding him, lip curled. Nothing was said however, and the two Judges continued on their assigned patrol route.
As they returned to the Sector House early that afternoon, Hart reflected on a job well done. After responding to the 99 Code Red, he and Wily had proceeded to Shoddy Lane to follow up on reports of illegal mutant activity. Wily had immediately been surrounded by a crowd of DPs, citizens who had been displaced by one of the various crises that struck MC1 on a regular basis. They gave Hart a wide birth, sensing his fundamentally predatory mindset as their herd instinct took over. Wily’s confiscation of over-priced hotties from a complaining but unlicensed street hawker and distribution to the crowd led to a number of leads on unregistered mutants. Although they didn’t get a lead on the underground railroad they suspected was operating in the area, Hart did manage to pick up a narc amongst the mutant population, one 'Vrodo'. Although his mutations were severe enough to earn him a one-way ticket to the Cursed Earth, Hart’s registration of him as a narc earned him a temporary reprieve. ‘As long as he comes up with the goods, that is’ thought Hart as they pulled into the Sector House garage. Turning their Lawmasters over to the waiting Auxiliary Teks, Hart became aware that the other Judges were regarding them with wariness, even pity. As usual, Wily misread his fellow Judges’ intent and waved, thinking they were being hailed for Anderson’s rescue. But as they walked towards the turbolifts, Hart’s instincts proved correct. Watch Commander Kemp waited for them, his habitually unhappy face looking even more so than usual. Keeping his responses short and to the point, he led the two Judges to one of the many indistinguishable briefing rooms dotted throughout the building and left them alone with a curt nod.
As they waited, Hart stood stoically in the corner, feet planted wide and thumbs hooked into his belt. For his part, Wily sat at the plasteen table and sipped at a cup of tepid synthi-synthi-caff, scowling at the bitter aftertaste. As they waited, they were joined by a complaining Muller. Refusing Wily’s proffered synthi-synthi-caff and giving Hart the briefest nod, Muller slumped into a chair and lapsed into an ominous silence. Looking from one to the other, Wily wished that Kowalski was there to provide some light relief...
Suddenly, the door burst open and two figures strode in. The lead figure was dressed head to foot in the black uniform every Judge rightly feared: SJS! This particular officer carried himself with all the arrogance and zeal that marked all of his kind, but he was further distinguished by a full-length prosthetic right leg that hissed and whirred as he walked. More disconcertingly, beneath his helmet line he also had a prosthetic jaw constructed of gleaming plas-steel. Where most would have such rebuild covered with synthetic skin to disguise the disfigurement, this Judge had made a conscious decision to leave it uncovered, no doubt to add to his intimidating air. Behind him came a helmeted, diminutive Psi-Judge. Wordlessly, she took up an at-ease position at the rear of the room.
The SJS officer seated himself at the table with a whirr of servos from his leg. As he cleared his throat, it was clear to Wily that the rebuild also extended into his larynx as his voice had a harsh electronic buzz to it. He placed four plain brown folders onto the table. Where most department records were in electronic format, this officer had plainly taken the trouble to produce hard copies of whatever material they contained. Noting Wily’s expression, the SJS Judge began to speak. ‘Whilst I recognise the ease of using digital records, I also believe there is value in seeing a Judge’s actions rendered in physical form. It makes it easier to weigh a Judge’s words and actions, and to determine their worth. Or otherwise.’ Noting Muller’s incredulous expression, the Judge picked up a folder marked with Muller’s name and appeared to weigh it on the flat of his hand. ‘Of course, some Judges do not tip the scales favourably, no matter how hard they try’. As he spoke, something about his voice nagged at Wily and Muller although they couldn’t place it, distorted as it was. Wily thought it sounded like Hart, although that was plainly nonsense.
Muller could take no more. As he launched into a rant regarding wasting Justice Department time, Wily cut him off with some placatory comments, ever the peacemaker. After listening to Wily’s recap of their experiences over the past few weeks, the SJS officer leaned back in his chair. ‘So you deny any contact with Judge Anderson in connection to these matter?’. When Wily responded in the negative, the unidentified SJS Judge looked back over his shoulder at the silent Psi Judge in the corner. As he did so, all three Tac-Team members felt an odd sensation of...wrongness. Almost as if the taste of sour milk-ish powder was a thought, was how Wily described it later. Abruptly, the feeling of wrongness disappeared and the small Psi Judge simply looked at the SJS Judge and nodded. Abruptly, he gathered the four folders together and stood, accompanied by a whining sound from his prosthetic that set teeth on edge.
‘Be aware that your conduct in the coming weeks and months will be under close scrutiny. Closer than usual, that is. Also, be aware that there are some in the Justice Department who find Anderson’s wilful nature to be a cause for concern, and those who feel her misuse of Departmental material without authorisation to be borderline criminal.’ Turning towards the door, he removed his helmet and glared at them. With a shock, Wily realised that he was looking into the eyes of Hart! The reason that his voice sounded so like his team mate was that they were clearly both clones drawn from the heritage of Eustace Fargo, the renowned Father of Justice. However, whereas Hart was young, this clone was a window into how he may look with another two decades of street time under his belt. The SJS Judge went on: ‘Remember that I, SJS Judge Smith, will be watching and weighing your worth, regardless of your heritage’ he said, fixing Hart with a glare. ‘And if you are found wanting, retribution will be swift’. With that, Smith and his unsettling companion left the team alone with their thoughts.
After the inevitable explosion from Muller and the taciturn response from Hart, Wily headed out to find Anderson to get some answers. She too had been interviewed by Judge Smith, but her sardonic good humour was unchanged when he found her, feet up on the table in the rec area. It became clear that Smith had something of an issue with Anderson, and had made it his mission to have her thrown out of the Department. When asked about his Psi-Div minder, Anderson shrugged. ‘I’ve never met her before, but I know she’s a Blank’. A Blank was a special type of psychic, who had very little power beyond possibly simple telepathy. Instead, a Blank broadcast a sort of psychic null-zone, where the powers of other psykers didn’t work and couldn’t penetrate. ‘Perhaps Smith’s afraid, got something to hide, both or neither’ Anderson opined. ‘Anyway, enough about that bozo; let’s go see what those drokkers who tried to off me earlier have got to say’.
As expected, the perps caved in soon enough under the expert attentions of Wily, Hart and an especially snarly Muller. The masks they were wearing were all associated with a popular Black Spug band that went under the charming moniker of ‘Sordid Cadaver’. The masks had all been sold as merchandise at the band’s gigs over the past few months and, when examined, the poorly-rendered designs on the front were supposed to represent one of the Dark Judges that BS bands usually referenced in their lyrics. The ‘songs’ themselves were almost always based on those of one of the original BS bands, ‘Eternal Master’. The band themselves had long disappeared, although they had achieved some notoriety when the lead singer had been shot dead on stage by an unknown perp. Still, their most popular album, ‘Songs to Wake the Dead’, influenced BS bands to this day.
The perps themselves were typical low-life members of one of the myriad juve gangs that had sprung up along with the BS craze. Snivelling in fear, they revealed that they were fans of one of the many pirate vid-shows that played BS bands exclusively. Although the Justice Department shut them down as fast as they appeared, there were always more and resources were stretched thinly as it is. Pirate vids usually piggy-backed their signals along with the daytime shopping channels that had been carefully created to anaesthetise the populace with pointless ‘must-have’ items. They thought this made them untraceable, but the Tek-Judges had long since perfected an algorithm to quickly find their location if needed.
One show in particular had caught the perps' limited attention. It was hosted by two masked juves that called themselves ‘Dark Demon’ and ‘Death Angel’ (‘how original!’ scoffed Muller) and who ranted about the rise of the Church of Eternal Life, the destruction of the Judges and a new world of freedom that would be ushered in by the return of the ‘Eternal Master’. Lately, they’d been inciting juves to attack and kill Judges, especially blonde female ones, finishing off their broadcasts with the chorus of one of Eternal Master’s most popular songs: ‘Death lives! Death will live again!’.
Unsurprisingly, none of this sounded encouraging to Wily’s team. Quickly, they formulated a plan. Wily made contact with one of his contacts, Tek-Judge Klop, and tasked him with tracking down the pirate radio station once it came on air with a view to paying them a visit. Hart began analysing data on BS bands held on M.A.C., the Justice Department database, particularly on Sordid Cadaver and Eternal Master. Muller set his mind to reviewing crime reports of juve gangs, scrawlers, kooks, anything that could have a link to the Church of Eternal Life...or Death. As they set to their separate tasks, all three looked up as the door opened and an unusually upbeat Kowalski sauntered in with a casual ‘So, did I miss anything important...?’
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