“Let the Prosecution finish, Judge Hershey,” Fargo said calmly. “I’ll hear from you later if you so desire.”
Hershey’s shoulders fell. McGruder nodded her thanks. “Were the bullets recovered from the bodies of Vardis and Lily Hammond so DNA-coded, Central?”
“Yes, Judge McGruder.”
“And what was the result of the computer check of the DNA coding of those bullets?”
“The DNA is a perfect match for Judge Joseph Dredd.”
“That’s a lie! This is a setup! I did not kill those people!”
Dredd dug his fists into his palms, drawing blood. The cords stood out in his neck. He stared at Chief Justice Fargo. Fargo met his eyes, hesitated, and looked away.
A terrible cry started deep in Dredd’s throat. He didn’t care about the rest of them, they could believe him or go to hell. But Fargo, if Fargo doubted him, if he thought for an instant that he had done such a thing…
He turned on Hershey, gripping her shoulders hard. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t do this.”
“I know that. I know you didn’t, Dredd.” His fingers dug into her arms but she didn’t complain. “I believe you, but I don’t know what to do for you. The DNA evidence… it’s irrefutable. He’s left us without any case at all.”
Dredd dropped his hands. “Everything he’s saying is a lie. I’m telling the truth. What kind of case is that?”
“It’s the Law,” Hershey said. “McGruder may be wrong, but the Law is right, Dredd. You, of all people, know that.”
Dredd didn’t answer. He looked at Hershey but didn’t see her. He couldn’t see anything at all.
“Your Honor, the Prosecution rests,” McGruder said.
Under the judicial system of the Way Back When, crime not only took its toll on the individual Citizen, it also created an enormous financial burden on the community as a whole. Though it is difficult to imagine, it was the Citizen himself, through the payment of taxes, who supported lawbreakers when they were apprehended and sent to prison. Thus, food, housing, health care, and even entertainment were provided by the very people the criminals had victimized.
Under the modern penal system of the Judges, it is the inmates who bear the cost of their incarceration. If a prison is to be constructed, it is built by prison labor. Only the cost of the materials is borne by the Mega-Cities. Much of this cost is recovered through COPP—Confiscation of Prisoners’ Property. When a prisoner is committed, all material goods such as real estate, vehicles, credit accounts, etc., are forfeited and cannot be recovered, even after the prisoner’s sentence has been served.
Further costs of incarceration are borne by the prisoner during his sentence. Prison industries manufacture goods which are sold at a profit on open market. All food consumed in prison is grown by the inmates themselves. Clothing is manufactured within the system. Power and sanitation services are purchased from prison industry profits. A small percentage of those profits is allocated to prison “entertainment,” which is restricted to health-related activities such as rigorous exercise that would aid the inmate in maintaining the proper conditioning for performing his duties.
Prisoners do not receive wages for their work, as they did in the distant past. Upon release, each man is given the equivalent of one month’s income based on current minimum wage standards. A man who has served six months, or thirty years, receives the same amount upon his release. He is expected to use these funds wisely and sparingly, to rehabilitate himself at once, and obtain gainful employment.
It is unfortunate that approximately seventy-eight percent of prisoners released eventually commit the same crimes they committed before, and find themselves sentenced once again. However, it should be noted that this figure does not accurately represent those lawbreakers reincarcerated. Under the Judges, sixty-three percent of prisoners convicted receive sentences calling for execution arrest—either for the severity of the crime, or under the “Second Offense” rule. This relatively low rate of imprisonment results in a penal population that remains at a controllable level.
SIXTEEN
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.