LUNA CITY THREE, THE MOON
LOCAL JUDICIAL COUNCIL CHAMBER #2
The blonde SJS judge stood at a thick window inside the dark and deserted Council Chamber, watching Earth hanging in the black sky. Even now, even after all we've done to her, he thought, she still looks beautiful.At least from here. Close up she was scarred and dirty. Ugly.
But all that could be fixed, if only...
'Deputy Cal?'
Cal turned from the window, his reverie broken, to face his aide. Judge Fischer, who always looked worried, today appeared positively harried. 'The City just went dark, Sir. Datastreams, media broadcasts, telemetry feeds – even the Control Net – it's all gone to static.'
'And everywhere else?'
Fischer consulted the j-pad he carried everywhere. 'Only Mega City One's affected so far. The other Mega Cities have already isolated their systems from our feeds in case this was caused by a virus and they all seem normal at the moment.'
Cal returned his gaze to the Earth. 'The latest word?'
'Not good, Sir. The last, or rather latest report, said that robots had full control of nine sectors and strong footholds in eighty-seven percent of all other sectors. Casualties are very high and the city's infrastructure is taking a lot of damage. Justice Department has a plan headed up by Judge Dredd but the signal cut before we could learn more.'
'The Grand Judge?'
'As of two hours ago, safe and sound.'
Cal nodded, dislodging a golden lock which fell like a comma over his left eye. 'In his bunker, no doubt.'
'Yes, Sir.' If Fischer caught the shadow of disdain in Cal's voice he didn't show it. 'That would be the protocol under these circumstances.'
'When can we get back, Fischer?'
'Not yet, Sir. The Chief thinks...'
Cal whipped around, fury arcing like electricity across his forehead. 'The Chief thinks it's safer here!'
'He has a point, Sir. Justice Department has to preserve the chain of command in case the worst happens.'
Cal sighed and stepped down from the window. 'In case you hadn't noticed, Mega City One is being chewed up by genocidal robots. The worst is happening, Fischer. The worst is happening right now and we have to get back.'
Fischer spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. 'I'm sorry, Sir, we're grounded. Chief's orders.'
'I'll talk to him myself,' Cal said, striding towards the exit of the modest and functional Council Chamber. His polished green boots thudded into the Moon-grey carpet like hammers, forcing up faint clouds of dust that sparkled in the earthlight creeping through the window.
'He's in a meeting, Sir. Not to be disturbed, I'm afraid.'
Cal paused and looked back at Fischer, who was strolling to catch up with him, tapping at his j-pad instead of watching where he was going. Cal felt the sudden lunatic urge to stick out a foot and trip the distracted judge – watch him fall flat on his stupid miserable face! He pushed the thought away with a scowl. 'What meeting? There's nothing on his schedule.'
'It's not to do with the conference, Sir.'
'Then, what?'
Fischer stopped in his tracks and looked up. 'I don't know, Sir,' he said.
'Where?'
'Conference Suite Seventeen, Level Three, Grey Zone.'
Ordering Fischer to follow him, Cal strode out of the Council Chamber and made for the nearest el-bank. With the conference in recess the corridors of Luna Three's Grand Hall of Justice were sparsely populated, mostly by junior clerks hurrying along with bundles of files or bags of takeaway, orange jump-suited auxiliaries moving furniture or performing running maintenance and robots cleaning and vacuuming.
Normally, robots don't register very much in the human mind. They are just there, working away quietly in the background, uncomplaining and staying out of the way. People don't give much thought to a robot until they need it or it malfunctions. Like a light switch, or a gun, Cal thought. Now, though, everybody was aware of the placid robots, giving them a wide berth.
Why hadn't the Luna City Three Justice Department ordered all robots shut down until the situation in Mega City One had been resolved? It seemed like gross negligence. In a terrestrial city a robot rebellion was bad but in an enclosed environment surrounded by nothing but frigid dust, searing radiation and hard vacuum it would be catastrophic. In fact, Cal realised as he reached the el-bank and called for a pod, Luna Three would be the ideal place for a robot rebellion. They could simply dump the atmosphere and take over the undamaged city without firing a shot.
But if the robot quietly and methodically polishing the metal doors and rails around the el-bank had any idea of its tactical advantage it didn't seem to care. It appeared content to be doing what it was doing, every byte of its concentration focused on bringing the el-bank to a high shine, not a scrap of RAM free to consider the concepts of freedom or rebellion.
Cal stepped into an el-pod and held the doors while Fischer, still tapping at his j-pad, caught up.
'Come on, Fischer, we don't have all day!'
'Sorry, Sir – we've just heard that a strat-bat bound from Mega City One to East Meg Two has been hi-jacked by the on-board robo-stewards. The Sovs want to shoot it down.' Fischer's tone was accusatory.
'Of course they do. The Sovs don't want our uppity western robots giving their uppity eastern robots any ideas,' Cal said. 'We'd do the same thing.'
The el-pod doors closed and Cal spoke into its control panel. 'Conference Suite Seventeen, Level Three, Grey Zone.'
'Thank you,' a mellow artificial voice said. 'Destination recognised. Travel time, twenty-two seconds.'
The el-pod sped on a magnetic cushion through the twisting el-shafts criss-crossing the building like arteries, though inside the pod the acceleration and wild changes of direction were unnoticeable.
Two heavily armed SJS judges stood guard outside Conference Suite Seventeen as Cal marched up to the door. 'Stand aside,' he said.
One of the guards stuck out his chin. 'No, Sir.'
'I beg your pardon, Judge Butterworth?' Cal demanded, his voice like honeyed ice.
'Nobody's allowed in, Sir, not even you. Chief's orders.'
'And what of the Law, Butterworth? Specifically the Chain of Command Act 2079?'
'Sir?' Butterworth's tone wasn't quite so certain.
'Section 14a. Ringing any bells, Judge?' Cal sneered the last word and saw Butterworth squirm. 'Well?'
Judge Butterworth stood aside and came to attention without another word, his companion followed suit. Cal pushed open the door and, first saying 'stay here' to the recently arrived Judge Fischer, went inside.
'Alexander,' the Chief of the Special Judicial Service, the judges who judge the judges, looked up from his position on an overstuffed nylon couch, 'is there a problem?'
Cal noted with distaste the cigar in the Chief's fat fist and the two glasses of amber fluid on the low table in front of him. On the couch next to the Chief, smoothing her dull grey business jacket with a calm yet strained dignity, was a woman Cal recognised as one of the civilian conference attendees. His ordered mind soon located her name, Ms Shandy Mates-Blatherwitch – a director of the robotics company Komputel, owned by the mad billionaire Hugh Howards.
'Ah,' said the Chief. 'You disapprove. Well, young Deputy, you've caught me!' The chief laughed, a phlegmy, primal sound. 'But the smoking and drinking laws are somewhat more progressive in Luna City Three and, as Ms Blatherwitch and I have business together, I thought it best to honour the local customs. I shall flagellate myself thoroughly on our return to the City, I assure you.' The Chief issued another of his drowning man laughs.
'Chief,' Cal's voice was measured and calm, masking the hatred for this sweaty lump whose very name he could never bring himself to say or even think. 'The City, our City, is in danger. We have to get back now – we're needed, Sir!'
The Chief watched the oily smoke from his cigar ooze indolently towards the recycler grill in the ceiling. 'No we're not,' he said. 'Justice Department has a plan. Ms Blatherwitch has just been briefing me on it.'
Cal found that his jaw was hanging open and he shut it with a snap. His ordered mind was momentarily thrown into confusion. 'She?' He could say no more. It made no sense.
'Yes. Don't worry, Alexander, the First Robot Rebellion will be over in an hour or two and Ms Blatherwitch has a really rather excellent idea for ensuring there will not be a second.'
'I see,' Cal gathered his thoughts with a steel rake, forcing himself to think clearly. 'And what is that plan? Buy only Komputel robots?'
'Komputel chips, actually,' the Chief said, reaching for his glass and smirking at Cal's coolly hostile expression, 'but right now that's not your concern. Or anyone else's, is that clear?'
'Chief, the regulations clearly state that no judge, no matter their rank, can engage in...'
'Don't quote the Law at me, you smug little bastard!' the chief roared, rising to his feet in a barely controlled rage. 'There are things going on here above your clearances, Deputy Chief Cal! Things that you have no need to know! Now get the...' The Chief paused in his tirade and checked the clock. 'Get the fuck out of here.'
Cal stood rooted to the spot with bottled fury. He felt that if he moved a muscle he might explode.
'Didn't you hear me? I said get out. You're dismissed. Go away and whack off to some Law books or holos of yourself or whatever it is you get up to when you're not being a pain in my ass.'
With a forced calm that wasn't entirely complete, Cal spun on his heel and thrust his way through the door, the Chief's repugnant laugh sloshing in his ears.
'Deputy?' Fischer said as Cal strode out of the Conference Suite.
'That man,' Cal growled to himself, 'has got to go.'