Judges Volume One Read online

  Dedicated to Carlos Ezquerra

  An Abaddon Books™ Publication

  www.abaddonbooks.com

  [email protected]

  First published in 2019 by Abaddon Books™, Rebellion Intellectual Property Limited, Riverside House, Osney Mead, Oxford, OX2 0ES, UK.

  Creative Director and CEO: Jason Kingsley

  Chief Technical Officer: Chris Kingsley

  Head of Books and Comics Publishing: Ben Smith

  Fiction Commissioning Editor: David Moore

  Marketing and PR: Remy Njambi

  Design: Sam Gretton, Oz Osborne & Maz Smith

  Cover: Neil Roberts

  The Avalanche, Lone Wolf and Introduction copyright © 2018 Rebellion 2000 AD Ltd.

  When The Light Lays Still copyright © 2019 Rebellion 2000 AD Ltd.

  Judge Dredd®; Judge Dredd is a registered trade mark; ® and © Rebellion 2000 AD Ltd; All rights reserved.

  Judge Dredd created by John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra.

  ISBN: 978-1-78618-122-0

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Judge Dredd: Year One

  City Fathers, Matthew Smith

  The Cold Light of Day, Michael Carroll

  Wear Iron, Al Ewing

  Judge Dredd: Year Two

  The Righteous Man, Michael Carroll

  Down and Out, Matthew Smith

  Alternative Facts, Cavan Scott

  Rico Dredd: The Titan Years

  The Third Law, Michael Carroll

  The Process of Elimination, Michael Carroll

  For I Have Sinned, Michael Carroll

  Judge Anderson, Rookie

  Heartbreaker, Alec Worley

  The Abyss, Alec Worley

  A Dream of the Never Time, Alec Worley

  Bigger Than Biggs, Danie Ware

  Devourer, Laurel Sills

  Judge Dredd

  Bad Moon Rising, David Bishop

  Black Atlantic, Simon Jowett & Peter J Evans

  Cursed Earth Asylum, David Bishop

  Deathmasques, Dave Stone

  Dread Dominion, Dave Stone

  Dredd vs. Death, Gordon Rennie

  Dreddlocked, Stephen Marley

  Eclipse, James Swallow

  The Final Cut, Matthew Smith

  The Hundredfold Problem, John Grant

  Kingdom of the Blind, David Bishop

  The Medusa Seed, Dave Stone

  Psykogeddon, Dave Stone

  The Savage Amusement, David Bishop

  Silencer, David Bishop

  Swine Fever, Andrew Cartmel

  Wetworks, Dave Stone

  Whiteout, James Swallow

  Judge Anderson

  Fear the Darkness, Mitchel Scanlon

  Red Shadows, Mitchel Scanlon

  Sins of the Father, Mitchel Scanlon

  Contents

  Introduction, by Michael Carroll

  The Avalanche, by Michael Carroll

  Lone Wolf, by George Mann

  When The Light Lay Still, by Charles J Eskew

  More 2000 AD Fiction

  Introduction

  When I first told my friend Kevin about this series, he said, “What?” because he wasn’t listening. So when I second told him about it, he said, rather dismissively, “Oh, so, you’re doing a prequel, then. Did you get that idea from The Phantom Menace?”

  Through gritted teeth, I explained that, no, this idea didn’t come from The Phantom Menace. And it’s not a prequel.

  Well, not really.

  In 2006, almost thirty years after they created Judge Dredd, writer John Wagner and artist Carlos Ezquerra finally gave us the epic tale Origins which relates the history of the Justice Department. It told us how the USA finally began crumbling under the weight of its own bureaucracy and internal politics, drowning in the blood on the streets even as it choked on the dust of its collapsing economy. We saw how hot-shot young lawyer Eustace Fargo was appointed Special Prosecutor for Street Crime by President Thomas Gurney. How he founded the Judge system in the hopes of applying order to the growing chaos, and how that system eventually came to completely supplant the US government.

  Origins is a masterpiece, but it has a lot of ground to cover. The story of the first Judges on the streets—back when they were still sharing those streets with the cops and lawyers they would eventually replace—occupies just two panels out of its 132 pages.

  That’s where this series comes in. Who were those first Judges? What sort of person would be willing to throw away the fundamental concept of due process? To forfeit every other citizen’s basic rights in the name of justice?

  What does it take to become the physical embodiment of the Law?

  Senior editor and overlord David Thomas Moore asked me to be the line-editor for the series: he knew of my love for Dredd (I’m a 2000 AD reader from the very beginning!), and my enthusiasm for Dredd’s history. I realised that since I’d be working with other writers my first task should be to create a series bible; a comprehensive document that explains the background to the series, the setting and tone, a list of dos and don’ts, lists of characters that can be used and those who are off-limits, and so forth.

  But all that seemed like way too much work, so instead I wrote The Avalanche, the first novella you’ll find in this collection, as a sort of template for the other writers. A blueprint that tells them, “This is the sort of thing we want. Do it like this. But not 100% exactly like it, of course. Add your own slant.”

  Dutifully, for they are professional, George and Charles both studied my blueprint very, very closely before deciding to carefully—almost reverentially—crumple it up, toss it aside and write their books their own way. I’m glad they did! This is, after all, why they were chosen. They each brought their own unique voice to the series, and it’s all the richer for it.

  I won’t spoil their books for you, of course, but you’re in for a treat. George Mann’s Lone Wolf takes what on the surface might seem a clear, straightforward cop-story and applies his well-honed skills to ramp the tension way, way up. It’s a fantastic, gripping adventure: when I was editing the first draft I constantly found myself so engrossed in the story that I was forgetting to annotate the script. I’ve edited thirty-something novels and I think that’s the first time that’s ever happened to me.

  As for Charles J. Eskew’s When the Light Lay Still... Well, that was initially scheduled to be the second release in the series, but Charles kept adding so many layers to it. The story—which we were receiving in chunks—was magnificent, but it was taking way too long. Editorial decision: do we rein him in, or give him the room to fly? We chose the latter option, and swapped the publication order with Lone Wolf, which was possible because George had delivered his book early, the absolute champion.

  All that remains is for me to thank George and Charles, the awesomely gorgeous and tantalisingly exotic Abaddon crew, and of course the unbelievably talented creators of our universe, John Wagner and the much-missed Carlos Ezquerra. Thank you for letting us play with your wonderful toys, gentlemen!

  Justice lies within, folks.

  Michael Carroll

  Dublin, November 2018

  To my friend John Vaughan,

  Larger than life, more fun than a barrel of monks and considerably smarter than two short planks.

  PROLOGUE

  Monday, January 3rd 2033

  20:47

&n
bsp; THE UNIFORMED OFFICER was busy transcribing a handwritten statement and didn’t look up from his keyboard. “With you in a second.”

  Charlotte-Jane Leandros looked around the open-plan office. Aside from the now-limp Christmas tree in the corner, the top half of a paper Santa Claus pinned to the wall, and an Elf-on-a-Shelf that had what was very clearly a bullet hole in the middle of its forehead, the police station of St. Christopher, Connecticut, didn’t appear to have changed in the two years since she’d last visited. The officer behind the desk, however, had changed quite a lot. He’d put on weight, and his hair was now very grey, as was the thick moustache he sported.

  She reached across the officer’s desk and poked a pencil at his Schnauzer-a-day calendar. “So... Happy birthday, Benny.”

  His typing paused for the briefest moment as he said, “Knew it was you, CJ.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He still hadn’t looked up from the screen, but he was suppressing a smile. “Sure I did. You’re still wearing the same deodorant, and you cleared your throat on the way in. You think I don’t know my own baby sister’s voice, even if she’s just clearing her throat? I’m a cop. I’ve been trained to notice stuff like that.” Benny Leandros finally stopped typing and glanced up at his sister. “So, does Mom know you’re back or is this a surprise vis—”

  He jumped to his feet, and his chair skidded back across the room. “CJ, what are you wearing?”

  CJ Leandros placed her dark-visored helmet onto her brother’s desk and took a step back, giving him a better view of her uniform. Matt-black Kevlar-and-titanium-fibre tunic and pants, dark grey gloves and boots, reinforced grey pads protecting her shoulders, elbows and knees. She turned in a slow circle, ignoring the officers who had been staring at her from the moment she’d entered the station. “So what do you think?”

  Benny walked around to the front of his desk, stopped in front of his sister and stared down at her. “I think Mom’s gonna have an aneurysm. You... You told us you’d quit the police academy, not that you’d signed up to be a Judge! What was all that about working in a hardware store?”

  “Cover story. We’re not encouraged to talk about it, even with family.” She shrugged. “Lot of people are still very hostile to the idea of Judges.”

  “Can you blame them?” He shook his head slowly as he looked her up and down. “Body armour. It’s a bad sign when cops need body armour. And you don’t have a body-camera!”

  “What would I need one for? I don’t answer to anyone. Look, Benny, more than everyone else—even more than Dad—you were always telling me that I should go into law enforcement.”

  “Yeah, but I meant be a cop. That was before there were Judges! I mean, Judges like you. I thought you and me and Stav could be like a team, working the same beat, watch each other’s backs. That’s what Dad always wanted for us. Not… this.” He took a step back and again looked her up and down. “Not this, CJ. He’d have hated Fargo’s Footsoldiers and everything they represent.”

  A voice behind CJ said, “He’s not alone in that.”

  She’d known that he was there. Unlike Benny, Charlotte-Jane actually had been trained to be aware of what was around her at all times, and she was good at it. It was one of the reasons Judge Deacon had selected her for his team.

  Her oldest brother, Sergeant Stavros Leandros, had entered the room right after Benny had walked around to the front of his desk. Stav had been watching her from the doorway, and CJ had in turn been watching his reflection in her helmet’s visor. On her way into the police station, she’d seen his car parked in the lot outside, and as sergeant he would have already been informed that a Judge had been seen riding through town.

  He shook his head slowly. “If I’d known you were going to do this, I’d have stopped it.”

  “How? It’s my life, my decision.”

  Stavros nodded towards his office. “Let’s talk. Right now.” To Benny, he said, “Not you. Get that report done and go home. You’re back on at oh-nine-hundred.”

  As Stavros stomped away, Benny said, “Better do what he says, CJ. You know what he’s like when he’s under pressure. Until yesterday we had half the town without power because the Settlers knocked out the grid again, and we’ve got like ten guys down with the flu. So...” Benny shrugged. “I figure the last thing he needs is a bunch of Judges showing up and throwing their weight around.”

  He paused in the middle of dragging his chair back to his desk. “That’s not what’s happening, is it? Tell me that you’re here on your own and you just came back ’cause it’s my birthday and you wanted to surprise me.”

  “I came early because it’s your birthday. There are six of us, working under Senior Judge Francesco Deacon. The others will be arriving tomorrow.”

  Benny dropped into his chair. “Oh, Stav is not going to like that. And the captain is gonna have a fit.”

  CJ Leandros smiled and shrugged at the same time. “Happy birthday, Benny. I’ll see you tomorrow back at Mom’s, yeah? And don’t tell her I’m here—I want to surprise her.”

  “I won’t say a word... You know, I can’t decide whether she’s gonna be madder that you became a Judge or that you cut your hair. You always had great hair. Everyone said so.”

  She was already backing away from his desk. “Judges can’t have long hair. Regs.”

  She recognised some of the other officers and staff—there were a few she’d known her entire life—but right now they were pulling off that awkward trick of staring at her without looking her in the eye.

  From the day she’d been hand-picked from the police academy, she’d known that this was going to happen. Ordinary cops didn’t like the new Department of Justice, and not just because it signalled the end of their careers.

  As she passed the open doorway to Stavros’s office, he yelled, “CJ! Get in here!”

  She stopped, and looked in through the doorway to see her brother standing next to Captain Virginia Witcombe, a cold-looking fifty-year-old woman with grey hair so tightly pulled back that CJ was surprised she could still blink.

  “So,” Captain Witcombe said. “Welcome home, Charlotte-Jane.” CJ had the impression the captain was just barely keeping a lid on her emotions.

  “Thank you, Captain. It’s nice to be back. I honestly never expected to be posted here.”

  Stavros said, “Yeah, about that. So out of the blue this afternoon we get an official e-mail telling us six Judges have been assigned to St. Christopher. We’ve got forty-three beat cops to manage twenty-eight thousand people, and now we’re babysitting half a dozen Judges too? And my own sister turns out to be one of them? Hell with that.”

  “Yeah... I don’t like this either,” Captain Witcombe said. “Not one bit. You people want to make a difference, you should set up station in one of those towns in the Midwest that’re being overrun by gangs. Not here. It’s bad enough that I’ve got to put up with Judges at home in Colton, but I’ve worked too long and too damn hard to get where I am to throw it all away now. St. Christopher might not be the picture-postcard small town, but it’s a damn sight better than most, and I’m not going to stand by and watch while you Judges clear the path for the handcart this country is going to Hell in. You get what I’m saying?”

  “You think that the Judges are a symptom of the problems, not the cure. I understand that, Captain, but I don’t agree.”

  Stavros nodded. “Well, I agree with the captain. You remember what Dad always said, CJ. I remember Pappous saying it too, before you were even born. The single most important right any American citizen has is due process. The right to unbiased judgement when accused. You Judges have taken that right and flushed it down the crapper.” Stavros looked away from her, shaking his head. “It’s unconstitutional.”

  Captain Witcombe said, “No, it’s not, Sergeant Leandros. Not since Eustace Fargo got the constitution changed.”

  CJ said, “Captain, when you spoke at my dad’s funeral, you said that we need tougher laws to clamp down on drunk-
drivers so that sort of thing would never happen again. Afterwards, at the reception, I found you crying in the corridor, and your husband... Harvey, right? He was trying to console you. But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be consoled, and you were furious with him because you said he was trying to pretend it had never happened. Then you saw me, and you took my hands and told me that it wasn’t fair, that my dad was a great man, and to have his life snatched away by some drunken loser was the worst possible crime. You remember that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. And that’s not all I remember.” The captain stepped closer to CJ, arms folded. “I remember an incident about a year earlier. You were fifteen years old, and I caught you and Tenna LeFevour stealing beer from the One-Stop.”

  Stavros said, “What?” but both CJ and Witcombe ignored him.

  The captain continued, “And now you’re a Judge. I heard you all had to be squeaky-clean. Can’t see how that’s possible if you were a shoplifter.”

  “I wasn’t charged,” CJ said. “Remember? Dad asked you to take care of it.”

  Witcombe pursed her lips. “Hmm. So if I hadn’t done that, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

  “Possibly not. But you broke the law when you persuaded the store’s owner to drop the charges. That’s a bad mark on your record sheet, Captain, not mine.”

  Captain Virginia Witcombe remained perfectly still, and her voice was almost a whisper as she said, “You don’t talk to me like that. I don’t care who your father was or what happened to him. You never talk to me like that. Sergeant? Throw this smart-ass little punk out of my station in the next ten seconds or someone will have to arrest me for assaulting a Judge.”