Judge Dredd (11 page)

—History of the Mega-Cities

James Olmeyer, III

Chapter XXII: “The Modern Penal System”

2191

THE SETTING:

This is Chief Justice Fargo’s private study, just off the Great Council Chamber. Fargo’s quarters reflect less of the man’s lofty position than of the man himself. Instead of the dark, heavy furniture, thick carpets, and rare
objets d’art
other high officials might demand, Fargo’s quarters are almost Spartan. There is a bookcase against one wall. On a simple table is a pitcher of water and two glasses. There is an ordinary plastic desk stacked with papers, and two relatively comfortable chairs.

The plastered, white-washed walls contain no pictures, certificates, holos, or awards. The one feature of Fargo’s quarters which sets them apart is something few might notice at all, unless they were familiar with the architecture of the Council Chamber. The immense marble shield and eagle is, of course, the focal point of the chamber. The back of this enormous stone forms one inner wall of the Chief Justice’s study. It is hard to miss the symbolism here: Here is the emblem of power, and the man at its foundation who makes that power real. This interesting bit of mythos and wisdom is pointed out to each new class of Cadets. For most of them, this place will remain a mystery throughout their careers as Judges. The chance of actually seeing the Chief Justice’s quarters is something on the order of none.

[Chief Justice Fargo stares out a small window overlooking the sprawling order and chaos of Mega-City. At this moment in his life, he would gladly trade places with the most ordinary Citizen below.]

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

What have I done? How could I have been so wrong? Dredd, Rico—
both
of them homicidal. Only this time it will be impossible to cover up. Damn it all, this simply couldn’t happen!

[Fargo buries his face in his hands. Judge Griffin walks up behind him to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.]

JUDGE GRIFFIN

Chief Justice, it
did
happen. We can’t know how or why, so there’s no use whipping ourselves over that. The point is, it’s not too late to pull our boots out of the fire. We carefully buried the Janus Project nine years ago, along with Rico and all his victims. No one will ever learn of your involvement. Nothing that happened leads back to you.

[Fargo shakes his head. Griffin makes it sound easy to forget about the past. Fargo knows that yesterday is always there, dogging the heels of the present.]

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

No, we can’t hold it back this time, my friend. The media know how close I am to Dredd. They’ve got connections, they always do. They’ll dig until the whole mess comes out. And they’ll love it, too. It’s the perfect excuse to
ruin
what little government, what little control we have left.

JUDGE GRIFFIN

Your motives were pure, untainted, Chief Justice. You thought Dredd was—different, or you would never have spared him.

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

And that little
mistake
may just bring down our whole judicial system. All of us. It won’t just be
me,
you know. Once they get the taste of blood they’ll go after everyone who wears the badge.

JUDGE GRIFFIN

You can’t look at it that way. We are all Judges, all responsible for the acts of one another. And if they bring us down, then . . . Sir, you and I have not always agreed in judicial matters, but I shall be proud to stand beside you, Chief Justice Fargo.

[Fargo looks at Griffin a long moment, then abruptly turns away to hide his emotions.]

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

I am grateful for what you have said. Your words mean much to me. And you have done me a greater favor than you know, my friend. So much greater than you can know!

JUDGE GRIFFIN

Chief Justice—

[Fargo turns and faces Griffin again. Griffin knows this man well, but he is startled by the strength, the will, the terrible sense of anguish he sees in Fargo’s eyes.]

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

There is another way to resolve this problem. It is the rational way, and, more important, it is the
responsible
way. Responsibility is the brother of privilege—we must never forget the truth of that.

JUDGE GRIFFIN

What are you saying, Chief Justice? I don’t understand . . .

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

I think you do. I think you must know exactly what I am saying. I have the option, and I have the desire to exercise that option, Judge Griffin. I will retire. I will take the Long Walk . . .

[Judge Griffin stares, then violently shakes his head, as if this gesture might deny Fargo’s words, his intentions.]

JUDGE GRIFFIN

You cannot. You
will
not, Chief Justice. The Long Walk is a death sentence and you know it!

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

Then it is my death sentence, is it not? It is my choice.

JUDGE GRIFFIN

Your . . . choice grants you certain rights, of course.

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

I am quite aware of those rights, Judge Griffin . . .

JUDGE GRIFFIN

Sir, I did not mean to imply—

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

It does not truly matter at this point what you may or may not imply, my friend. I hold you blameless. And yes, I
will
use the power of my retirement to save Dredd’s life. This
was
on your mind, I believe? Fine. If everyone sees this as my motive, so much the better. They will not bother to look for any other . . . benefits of my decision. I believe the media will be so ecstatic at the chance to innundate Mega-City with countless holos, videos, broadcasts of my actions, they will have neither the time nor the inclination to turn over any other rocks searching for dirty laundry.

[Chief Justice Fargo pauses to pour himself a glass of water. Griffin’s mouth is parched as well, but he finds he cannot bring himself to break the spell Fargo has cast upon this room.]

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

The judicial system we have worked these many years to establish will remain intact. And the secret of the Janus Project will be secure. That should be . . .
adequate
work for one day, don’t you think?

JUDGE GRIFFIN

What you do is . . . more than anyone could ask of you. Your action shames us all, sir.

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

We shamed
ourselves,
Judge Griffin, when we allowed ourselves to become involved in Janus. There is no need for all of us to pay for that foolish mistake, but I cannot say that it is asking too much for one of us to bear that burden.

JUDGE GRIFFIN

I wish it were someone else, Chief Justice. I would—I would take your place if I could, sir, and consider it an honor.

CHIEF JUSTICE FARGO

I appreciate the thought, Judge Griffin. But do not be in such a great hurry to give yourself to the cause. It is not necessary. Someone will make the decision for you one day—long before you’re ready to be so noble yourself . . .

T
his is a dream.

I have never had a dream, but I am certain I am having one now. Other people talk about dreams, so I looked it up to see what a dream might be. A dream is a thought in your head when you’re asleep. You do not control what you dream; it’s simply there. A dream is either good or bad. This dream is bad. It doesn’t matter though, because a dream isn’t real. When you wake up everything is fine. Everything is like it was before . . .

The Council Chamber was hushed. The Judges filed into the room. There was no way anyone could tell from the expressions on their faces what they intended to do. Some enterprising members of the media tried to read the verdict from the way the Judges walked, from the way they held their shoulders, from the way their arms moved. Were Fargo’s shoulders bowed? Did Esposito stand as straight as usual? Didn’t Griffin usually come in
before
Judge Silver, instead of just behind?

The reporter looked up past the Judges at the cobalt light that shimmered from the high, vaulted panes. One beam of light streaked down upon the massive granite shaft. The beam seemed to race across the shield, trace the eagle’s wing, and settle on the razored talons of its leg.

The reporter drew in a breath. It had to be a sign. The light wouldn’t strike the claw at that moment if there wasn’t meaning there.

He hastily scribbled a note on his pad:
In the old days, in the Way Back When, superstitious men and women believed they saw signs from their Maker everywhere . . .

It would do just fine. He would describe the beam of light as a sign of Dredd’s conviction or acquittal. It didn’t matter which. That was the thing about signs: They worked any way that you wanted them to.

Chief Justice Fargo struck the table with his gavel. Council Judge Esposito stood to speak for the Tribunal.

“In the charge of premeditated murder against Citizens Vardis Hammond and Lily Hammond, we find the Defendant Joseph Dredd . . . guilty.”

Everyone in the room seemed to draw a breath at once. One of the Cadets lost control and cried out, shaking his fist in a fury of protest. A veteran Street Judge rushed the young man outside. Ordinarily, he would have punished the Cadet severely. Today, he would forget what he had seen.

Chief Justice Fargo looked down at Dredd, determined to face him squarely, to do his duty and not turn away.

“Joseph Dredd, you are aware the Law allows only one punishment for your crime. That punishment is death. However, it has long been our custom to carry out the last order of a retiring Judge . . .”

Fargo gripped the arm of his chair. His body felt massive, heavy with the weight of his years, with the sorrow of this terrible thing that was happening to him, to Dredd, to them all. He felt an instant of sheer panic when he was certain he could not bring himself to stand. Then, the strength that had always carried him through the worst of times came to his aid again. Gazing out over the crowd, he bowed his head, then lifted his face to the high ceiling, to the graceful arches of stone, to the fierce blue light.

“And so I now step down. And as I do so, I exercise my right. As I leave to take my Long Walk into the Cursed Earth, I ask this Court for leniency in its verdict against Judge Dredd, in gratitude for his years of dedicated service . . .”

Hershey was numb. Her heart pounded against her chest. She risked a look at Dredd, standing close beside her. What she saw sent a chill up her spine. Dredd’s eyes were dead. As dead as frosted glass. His mentor, the man who had been his father in nearly every respect, had just saved Dredd and sentenced
himself
to die. And Joseph Dredd hadn’t blinked an eye!

At that moment, Hershey didn’t know whether to hate Dredd or pity him. The man was made of ice, an iceman with a chunk of iron for a heart!

Chief Justice Fargo closed his eyes for a moment, then stood aside and formally relinquished his seat to Judge Griffin. Griffin picked up the gavel of the Chief Justice, his new badge of office, then set it down again.

“We will honor your order, Judge Fargo. The sentence of death is revoked. Joseph Dredd is hereby sentenced to life in Aspen Prison.”

His first act as Chief Justice completed, Griffin struck the table with his gavel. The Court erupted into chaos. Griffin pounded the table again and again, his face growing, dark with anger.

“Sentence to be carried out immediately,” he shouted above the crowd. “This Court is adjourned!”

“Judge Griffin, this trial is a farce!” Hershey stepped off the dias and glared at the new Chief Justice. “I
demand
an appeal. You cannot simply—”

“Enough, Judge Hershey!”
He picked up the Book of the Law and pointed it at her like a weapon. “You will accept the Council’s decision, and you will accept it without question.”

He turned away from Hershey, and pointed at Dredd. “Remove this prisoner. Immediately. Get him out of here!”

The Judge Hunters appeared at Griffin’s command, six of them, two marching swiftly down each aisle. A Cadet, in his excitement, made the mistake of getting in the way of one of the Hunters. The Judge Hunter swept him aside without breaking his stride.

“Let the Betrayer of the Law be taken from our Courts!”
Griffin read from the Book of Law, his voice resounding through the great hall.

Hershey gasped and stepped aside. The Judge Hunters clamped manacles on Dredd’s wrists. Dredd stared straight ahead. He didn’t seem to notice the Judge Hunters were there.

“Let the Freedom he stole from others be stolen from himself!”

One of the Judge Hunters pushed Dredd roughly in the back. Dredd tripped and sprawled on the floor. Two Hunters jerked him to his feet. Another tore off his armor and threw it aside. Still another clutched Dredd’s black uniform at his throat, and ripped it across his chest. Dredd didn’t move. He stood perfectly still, solid as stone, while the Hunters tore at his body, stripping him naked of his clothing, his honor, and his life.

“Let his armor be taken from him, and all his garb of Justice
. . .
Let his name be stricken from our rolls. Let his memory be erased from our minds . . . Let him live his life in dishonor and shame, and let him remember every day that he has not only betrayed himself, he has brought that shame and dishonor upon us. It is our regret that Judge Dredd cannot live a thousand lives in contemplation of his crime
. . .”

Hershey was uncertain how long she had been standing there, alone. The Judges’ table was empty. The audience was gone as well—the Judges, the Cadets. The section reserved for the media was empty. The vultures had fed well; they had gotten even more than they’d bargained for today.

She wondered what had happened to Fargo. She didn’t remember seeing him after Griffin took his place as Chief Justice. A strong, commanding presence one moment, and the next a shadow, no one at all.