“As I announced previously, the news media is not allowed to bring you live video coverage of the Ceremony of Retirement. We apologize for this, of course, but we must comply with the decision of the Judges. In lieu of live coverage, I will read you the text of the ceremony, as given to us by a media spokesman of the Judges.
“ ‘At sunrise this morning, retiring Judge Fargo was escorted by an Honor Guard of Street Judges to the City Gate in the Wall of Mega-City. Judge Fargo wore the traditional tan duster, traditional lawmen’s wear from a period dating to the Way Back When. A young Cadet, first in her class this year, read from the Book of Law, and a chorus of Cadets sang the solemn Judges’ Anthem.
“ ‘The cadet read: “Let him who has been written in our hearts and memories be struck from our hearts and memories forever…”
“ ‘At this point, retiring Judge Fargo hands a bundle containing his uniform, Lawgiver, and badge to the presiding Cadet. The Cadet hands Fargo the Book of Law, and the weapon he will carry to the Cursed Earth, a black-burnished Judges’ Remington pump. The Cadet salutes smartly. Judge Fargo returns the salute for the last time. The Cadet does an about face, turns her back on Judge Fargo, marches back to her post before the gathered command, and speaks again: “Let him go from us, from our city, from our protection, from our presence forever…”
“ ‘The city gates open, revealing the parched, empty land beyond. Judge Fargo walks through the gate, and into the Cursed Earth.
“ ‘He has gone from our midst, he has left us forever. May he continue his pursuit of the Right throughout his life. May he bring Law to the lawless, Justice to the unjust… as he leaves our sight forever…”
“At this point, ladies and gentlemen, the great city gate closes behind Judge Fargo. The Cadets and the honor guard of Street Judges come to attention, and the Judges’ Anthem reaches its stirring climax.
“This concludes our report on the Retirement Ceremony of Judge Fargo, former Chief Justice of Mega-City.
“As an ironic sidenote to this story, I can report to you that at virtually the same instant this ceremony was taking place, another, somewhat less formal event occurred at the Northwest Shuttle-gate of our city. Here, sixty-three men in chains and gray prison garb walked up the rampway to the Aspen Prison Shuttle Number Eleven. Some will be incarcerated for only a short time, some for many years. At least one among them will spend the rest of his life behind those forbidding walls for the crime of double murder. A prisoner named Joseph Dredd.
“Duncan Harrow here. Good night…”
The small craft whined above the city, catching the light of the sun on its crystal bow. It circled a tower that touched the morning clouds, hovered an instant, then settled gently into the magnetic lock that held it steady against the high structure.
A circular iris whispered open, and Chief Justice Griffin walked quickly out of the craft. The pilot saluted, but Griffin didn’t bother to respond.
The walls of his apartment were simulated oak, a perfectly polished imitation of a material that had long since vanished from the earth. The furniture was stark black and white, the pictures on the walls abstract slices of silver and blue. Replicated logs burned in the large fireplace at the far end of the room. The light flickered off the rich, golden walls, lending the stark decor a warm and comforting glow.
Griffin walked straight to the bar beside a heavy glass table. He reached for the familiar crystal container, changed his mind, and bent behind the bar. In a corner near the back was a bottle with a faded gold label, the printing nearly indistinct. He brought the bottle out and held it to the light. The liquid inside was the dark and smoky hue of old gold.
“Real Scotch whisky,” Griffin said aloud. “No simulations, not today.”
He reached for a glass. He heard the soft laughter behind him, jerked around and nearly dropped the precious bottle on the floor.
“Damn you,” he said, “what do you think you—”
Griffin stopped and sucked in a breath. The man stood in the center of the room, light from the fireplace glancing off the sharp planes of his face. But there was someone, something else—a darkness, a shadow that seemed to lift itself out of the substance of the floor behind the man, swell and grow until it nearly touched the high ceiling itself. It hissed and groaned, and steam rose from its dented metal joints.
Griffin recognized the monster at once. An ABC robot, a relic of some ancient war, A thing like that, here, in his home…
“Are you out of your mind!” Griffin stared at the man in anger. “Why did you bring that… that thing in here? I want it out of here at once!”
Rico smiled. “The Scotch is good. I tried it before you arrived.”
“Anything else I can get you?” Griffin said darkly. “Anything you see, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Rico leaned against the fireplace and crossed his arms. “Chief Justice Griffin. It has a… pleasant ring to it.”
“Yes, that’s all very well and good, but we—”
Griffin stepped toward Rico. The massive robot creaked and slammed a heavy foot in his path. The room shook. Glass trembled in a cabinet on the wall.
“I don’t like this,” Griffin said. “You and that antique killer coming here. I said we’d meet somewhere safe. My home is supposed to be secure, but there aren’t many secrets in Mega-City anymore.”
“I prefer to choose my own meeting places, Mr. Chief Justice.” Rico swept his arm in a casual gesture. “What are you worried about? That fool reporter is dead. The beloved Judge Fargo has taken the Long Walk, and Judge Dredd is on his way to Aspen Prison. I do hope he gets my old cell. It’s quite special. So… isolated, so quiet…”
Rico looked into the fire. “Fargo was no trouble, I assume? Such a fine and noble man.”
Griffin made a noise in his throat. “With Dredd convicted his back was to the wall. He didn’t have any choice. He thought the Long Walk was all his idea. Dredd was the only one who could raise hell during the proceedings, and I made sure he kept quiet.”
Griffin shook his head. “I’m not happy with the disposition of Dredd. He’s an extraordinary man. I could’ve used him in this…”
“No. You could not have used him in this!” Rico swept Griffin’s words aside. “Dredd worships the Law, and he would have blown you away the moment he found out how much you’re pissing on it. Let him freeze his ass off in Aspen. Let him see what it’s like to be me! After all, he and I have so much in common, don’t we?”
Griffin looked at Rico. Rico’s eyes seemed to glow with a light far greater than the reflection from the fire. They were a deeper, more molten red, like the unblinking eyes of the robot that stood silently over Rico’s shoulder.
“I’m… sure you’re right,” Griffin said. “No use wasting time on Joseph Dredd. There’s a great deal of work to be done.”
Rico nodded. “Janus. Yes…”
“You’ll see it soon enough. In the meantime, I want chaos, Rico. The block wars were just the beginning. Now I want fear racing through every street.” He slammed his fist against the wall. “Then the Council will have to turn to me. And when they do, I’ll give them Janus!”
Rico rubbed a hand across his chin. “Fear, terror, panic in the streets. I think I can handle that…”
NINETEEN