Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dredd characters, places, etc.
A/N: Sooooooo...I'm back. And I will try to stay on track. Thank you for your patience.
Chapter 10: Ethos, Logos, Pathos
Dredd had finally managed to get some sleep. He felt restored despite breaking up and arresting a few different brawlers attacking the lower AI servo-robots. He'd also answered a call for back up in dealing with a drug den. Now he was on his way to Eliza Del Monte's place for tea at three.
His mood was in a turbulent place, pitted with light and dark after his encounter with Anderson the previous night. It was still fresh in his mind, the lurking sense that things were amiss and the lingering irritation that he was unable to help and she unwilling to explain the current situation. This was exacerbated by her going undercover and her exposure to Rico for reasons he didn't fathom.
On the bright side he'd read her reports on the Cursed Earth and was satisfied with her explanations. The ones dealing with psychic activity was more fascinating than appalling. Apparently he was acclimating to her abilities better than he'd thought. There were supplemental reports specifically about the state of affairs in Salem, the political structure of the Murugans, a detailed analysis of telekinesis, and a suggested curriculum for basic defensive training for future psychics. He didn't need all of it but he found it interesting all the same. He would have to ask her for further analysis on psychic activity as her encounters grew. One could never be too prepared.
He wouldn't exactly miss her during her possibly protracted absence, but he counted her a reliable ally and knew she was beginning to undertake her responsibilities. Undercover would mean she didn't have back up, and that was the part he didn't like. As his rookie – and he admitted to only himself that Gibson was right to call her his rookie because he felt he owed her whatever support she might need – he would have preferred to remain an accessible resource. There was a lot in the real world she was capable of handling but had yet to encounter. She more than anyone would be in uncharted waters.
He told himself if it got bad she would think to call for help. She'd made it clear she fully intended to handle things on her own, like an equal, but things happened. He knew that better than anyone. She could get to him if she needed to, and he hoped she understood that was acceptable. There were few enough good Judges as it stood. She was of their number and she shouldn't be stubborn.
Dredd almost smirked. He almost acknowledged she was as dogged and determined to prove she could do it herself as he was.
Eliza Del Monte lived in an enviably pretty block. It wasn't one of the two hundred story monoliths dotting the skyline, rather it was about fifty floors of ornate architecture and gargoyles, trailing vines working their way up the sides and showers of roses hanging over different balconies in a sinful red. He swung off his bike and entered the base of the building with polished floors and a woman at a reception desk sat. She'd had work done but not the extent that Camellia had. She was pretty but still humanly so.
"Eliza Del Monte," he instructed of her. She lifted a receiver and punched a few buttons in with nails as red as the roses.
"There's a Judge Dredd here to see you Miss Del Monte," she said in a sweet falsetto. "Yes ma'am," she nodded and hung up. She passed him a key card. "Floor twelve," she instructed with a pretty smile.
Dredd made his way to the elevator and followed the procedure to get himself to floor twelve. When the door opened he found the George model robot waiting for him.
"Judge Dredd," he greeted and bowed deeply. "Please follow me this way. Miss Del Monte is eager to see you." So Dredd fell in behind the great humanoid robot, following the high polish of its well maintained, dark gold body. He brought the Judge to a door with pristine numbers 1248 and opened it, motioning Dredd in ahead of him.
"Judge Dredd," greeted Eliza Del Monte. She was the sort of pretty that came from good breeding rather than a surgical knife. There were just enough flaws in her face to make it human and gorgeous at once, from the slightly wider point in her nose bridge just below her eye level to the asymmetrical hairline that still produced luxuriant blond tresses. Her lashes weren't terribly long but they were baby fine and she wore minimal make up. In her white sun dress with splashes of vibrant color she was a perfect summer hostess. "Tea?" she prompted.
Dredd glanced around the room now and didn't feel anything was immediately out of place. No doubt though her rooms were bugged and there was probably a video feed goingback to Moderna and David Brigg.
"No thank you," he shook his head.
"You're going to make me a bad hostess," she made a face at him like a school girl might and poured him a glass of chilled ice tree from a pot bellied pitcher with lemon slices floating in it. "So I'll insist and as you're my guest and I'm not under arrest, you have to accept."
"...Thank you..." he answered as she pushed it into his hand.
"Come out onto the balcony won't you?"
He wondered if this was where there weren't any cameras and if it would matter at all. So he followed her out onto a spacious balcony easily the size of his entire apartment, clearly meant to entertain with its carefully maintained potted plants and assorted iron lawn furniture. She sat them down beneath an umbrella and he put his drink down on the table.
"How's the tea?" she asked with pointedly raised eyebrows. Not usually one for the song and dance of manners he opened his mouth to move on and she laced her fingers, resting her hands on the table. "Is it good?" Well, maybe it was bugged out here too. He went out of his way to take a sip and found it was actually excellent.
"Yes," he replied. She smiled with unwarranted relief and leaned back. "I have some questions about your opposition."
"Please. I'm giving a speech tonight with George," she nodded inside where the servo-robot was busy ironing.
"I'm aware," he nodded. "Have there been any problems lately?"
"The usual when it comes to matters of civil rights," she shrugged. "Death threats, ugly letters. They've had to beef up security around here after someone broke in and wrought havoc on the place. George hasn't even been on the balcony in two weeks."
"Does anyone stand out? Any of the letters?"
"I'm not yet an expert in death threats," she gave him a rueful smile.
"What do you know about the Neon Knights?" he asked. Her smile became suddenly brittle.
"They're the ones sparking most of the riots," she offered unhelpfully. Dredd waited for her to elaborate.
"Why am I here for tea?" he asked, taking another pointed sip. Her hands fluttered together and she shifted.
"You were the one with questions," she said. "Let me grab something from the kitchen to snack on."
Eliza Del Monte was gone before he could object. She also had not struck him as quite so flighty. He resolved something was amiss and decided to wait for a snack as she had asked. In the mean time he took in her rather impressive skyline. Something glinted off to one side and his stomach dropped out.
"I bake when times are tough," Eliza was saying as she came out the screen door. Dredd was up and out of his chair already when he heard the gunshot. The bullet punched into his shoulder and back out the other side with searing pain as he crashed into the ground over top of Eliza. Scrambling back to his feet he dragged her after him, hearing her scream as a second round caught her calf. He kept dragging her back into the kitchen.
"Control! Shots fired, Sector Three, Huntsman complex in the Shale district!" Dredd snarled into his glove comm, jerking out a salve to patch the skin before Eliza could bleed out. George appeared and clamped his hands around her knee to cut off the circulation as Dredd squeezed the paste into the wound, Eliza's hand clawing painfully on his wounded shoulder as she clung to him against her own agony.
"Do you require back up?" the control operator asked. Dredd opened his mouth to say no when the front door blew open.
"Affirmative!" he snarled, shoving the tube into George's hand. "Standard!" he barked at his Lawgiver as he lunged around the counter and blew away the first Neon Knights entering. The others took cover beyond the wall and leaned around to spray the room with shots. Dredd ducked back behind the counter. "Hot shot," he intoned, firing two more shots. There were pained cries as the heat seeking bullets zipped around the corner before something clacked into the room.
The flash bomb went off and cut out the sound. Dredd fired three more hot shots as he shouted for George to get Ms. Del Monte out via the balcony. Or at least, he thought he tried because apart from a ringing in his ears he heard nothing. The robot lifted his wounded mistress up and made for the balcony as Dredd covered for them with armor piercing rounds plugging away through the wall systematically. He couldn't hear if any connected but no one leaned around to fire any more.
The first thing he did hear was bullets shrieking through metal. When he turned he saw George had crouched down and over his screaming mistress, oil running down from finger sized holes and dripping from around his throat as sparks and steam hissed from ripped open circuitry. Dredd saw more bullets tear through the robot as he struggled to get up and move Eliza Del Monte from harm's way.
Dredd stood up, ignoring the blood oozing down his shoulder and sighted down his arm. He aimed for the place he'd seen the light flash off the scope. He squeezed the trigger and watched the three seconds it took for a body to tumble from a window a few buildings over.
"Can you carry her?" Dredd asked George.
"Yes sir," George answered as his gears ground and more smoke and oil poured out of him. He stood up, cradling his sobbing charge.
"Follow me," Dredd commanded.
"That cookie!" Eliza shouted, pointing at a particular cookie that had fallen. "You take that cookie Dredd!" He looked at her with almost slack jawed disbelief. A shot pinged through the side of George's head. The robo-servant shuddered, lurched forward and almost dropped her. Dredd killed the man in the door.
"Move!"
"There's data in it!" Eliza screamed. "Take the damn cookie!" With a snarl he back tracked and scooped it up from where it had fallen on the deck, jammed it in a side pouch, and took point. He dropped four Neon Knights and checked the other direction, killing another rounding the opposite corner.
"Lets go!" he yelled at George. The shambling robo-servant fizzed an answer before lumbering into a jog after Dredd's long strides. Dredd took out another three Knights before more came up behind and the bullets pelted George's back. Dredd leaned around the robot and killed them before he kicked in a door to the stairs.
His shoulder was burning as they started down the stairs as fast as they dared. They were two stories down when men came in from the top floor and began shouting into radios. Dredd caught one between the eyes and watched him drop past their descent.
"How far can you drop out a window?" Dredd asked the robo-servant. George carefully rearranged Eliza and held up four fingers. "Fourth floor you get out. Back up should be here soon," Dredd rumbled and George just nodded.
At the fifth floor they heard boots and saw more Neon Knights with their tabards storming up the stairs. Dredd counted at least fifteen and shouldered into the hallway from the stairs. After locking the door he moved down the hall to the nearest window and pulled it open, ignoring the screaming protest in his bleeding shoulder. Pulling a pain killer out of his belt he turned and pumped it into Eliza.
"If he can't keep moving you do," Dredd instructed. Eliza shook her head in a desperate refusal, covered in oil as her robot bled out carrying her. George hissed and fizzed encouragement, or perhaps a command she do as she was told. He gave Dredd a nod before climbing out through the window. More gunfire bit holes into the walls around them. Dredd stepped in front of the robot and emptied his clip to buy them time. He listened to protesting hydraulic joints and then George was gone. Dredd ducked around a corner and resolved to hold the position but someone shouted that the robot had jumped and boots retreated.
He jerked his respirator free and gave chase, pulling a tear gas canister form his belt and then lobbing it into the stairwell before descending into the ensuing cloud. His shots rang out precisely as he polished off his competition downstairs and finally was able to break free into the lobby.
He tore out of the door just in time to shoot one of the three Neon Knights standing around the hissing pile of crumpled electronics and oil mangled around a very injured Eliza Del Monte. She sat like a broken flower looking up defiantly at her captors, sullied and stained, bleeding. When the man holding a gun on her fell she smiled and watched the other men turn their attention on Dredd.
Dredd killed one as he ran, the second remaining Knight's shot at him going wide. Eliza pulled a jagged spine of metal from her robot's remains and sank it home in the last standing Knight's back even as she screamed "Behind you!" at Dredd.
Whipping around Dredd felt a bullet graze his side and two more plink against his Kevlar jacket. He squeezed off two more shots and killed both Knights coming towards them. Turning back towards Del Monte he saw her stabbing the Knight she'd already killed repeatedly, crying and screaming, her hair wild and in her face. He was dead when Dredd made it there, a bleeding husk as she kept going in terrified anger.
"Del Monte!" he barked, catching her hand. She looked up with her teeth bared like an animal. "We need to go!" he insisted.
"George," she whispered. Dredd looked at the broken creature, sparking, smoking, but not moving. He shook his head. Eliza looked back down, shifting her grip on the jagged metal. For a second it looked like she might bellow rage with the fury of a fallen Greek hero. Instead she slowly levered herself up while he surveyed the area, Lawgiver trained.
"Take me to my speech," she instructed roughly.
"You need to get to a hospital," he argued. Though she hung from his supporting arm she looked up at him with all the steel and fire of resolve beyond reason.
"I will give my speech," she told him quietly. He took a look at her wounds; the patched gunshot, the cuts, bruising, a laceration running in jagged secants up her ribs, all of her covered in oil, a smattering of star shaped burns from George's sparks. He heard sirens a little more than a block away. So he pulled her arms around his neck and scooped her up.
"Control, I need a medic on sight at Eliza Del Monte's speech location," he managed as he carried her the rest of the way to his Lawmaster.
"Wilco Dredd," came the reply. He set her on the back of his Lawmaster and swung on ahead of her.
"Don't let go," he said over his shoulder as the engine turned over. Her hands locked over his Kevlar, fingers hooked in the space between the armor and his neck as her head pressed between his shoulders. It agitated his wounded shoulder but he simply drove. More Judges were coming and one spotted him with his charge. Dredd paused just long enough to convey the situation before he continued on, speeding along the Mega Highways as fast as he dared.
He made excellent time all the way back to Sector One, forcing Eliza to give him directions so he would know she was alright. He knew the way well enough but he wanted confirmation she was still breathing. When they arrived he brought her to the waiting security and carried her through to medics who immediately began patching her up. A young man caught sight of the blood oozing from his shoulder.
"Judge, you need someone to take a look at that," he insisted.
"I'm fine," Dredd declined. The medic put himself right in front of Dredd – clearly he knew better than to make a grab for a Judge – and looked up defiantly through his acne and messy hair.
"No sir, I will patch it up or I'll call in that you're unfit for duty," he replied. Dredd considered shouldering past but this boy pulled his communicator out and held it at the ready. So Dredd pulled his Kelver open and unzipped the jacket beneath before he sat next to Eliza.
"Do you have that cookie?" the shell shocked spokeswoman asked. He looked over at her face covered in the gore of human and robot death. Reaching into his side pouch he offered a handful of crumbs with a slender disk poking out. She took it delicately between her filthy fingers. "Thank you...Judge Dredd...I meant to pass you that information. I thought...I knew the house was bugged but I thought if I pretended to answer then..."
"That was my fault," Dredd shook his head, ignoring the searing sensation of the wound being closed up. "I pushed my investigation by calling you."
Eliza gave him a much weaker smile this time, eyes watery. She reached over and put her scuffed hand down on his glove and gave it a squeeze, as if to offer reassurance. Looking away for a moment to gather herself she didn't let him go entirely.
"You didn't push anything Judge. My husband Tyler's been missing since last night. Those men would have gotten me if you weren't there. For this," she held up the tiny disk. "We got this information. Tyler did. And I'm going to blow open the atrocities brought down on robots now that they can feel. Who knows what they did to Tyler, if he's even alive, and I'm sick of living in fear. Once this is played, let them come. After this speech, I don't care."
Her hand tightened around his again. He looked down at it, the fierce hold in her once well manicured fingers. Her thumb ran along the back of his knuckles as if she sought to console him as much as draw strength from the connection.
"Miss Del Monte! Are you alright?" asked a professional looking young woman with glasses. Her face was pale as she clutched a clip board to her chest. "Should we cancel?"
"No," Eliza looked up, her eyes dark and fierce.
"Well, ah, should I find you something else to wear?"
"No. Let them see what my opposition will do," Eliza shook her head.
"Ahm, okay. I'm going to...I'll make sure everything's ready then. Five minutes," she nodded nervously before bustling off.
Dredd considered retrieving his hand as he felt uncomfortable with her still holding onto him. Eliza solved the problem by standing up and lifting her chin. She straightened whatever was left of her sullied dress and looked again at the precious disk.
"I should get to the stage," she said over her shoulder. Dredd gave her a nod as he was finally allowed to pull his jacket back on and zip it up. He was carefully sliding his Kevlar back into place when Eliza laid a hand down on his good shoulder and leaned forward. He sat frozen as she pressed a kiss down onto his helmet at about where his hairline was underneath. A droplet of water hit his visor when she leaned back and he realized it was a tear. She turned away from him in a flurry of battle torn skirts, rubbing tears away as she went, and vanished in a swell of people.
Dredd finished pulling his Kevlar in place and stood up. He followed after her until he came to an edge of the stage where he could see the podium. Looking around him he saw the security detail swarming, Judges and auxiliaries, street cops, the whole lot. He looked back at the stage as Eliza made her entrance to gasps. In the wake of the gathered crowd's horrified intake of breath, silence filled the air.
Eliza paced carefully to the podium and placed her bloodied fingers down on the synthetic wood. She studied them a long moment, a screen behind her displaying her larger than life for the more distant audience members.
"George," she started haltingly, looking up. "George was supposed to be here with me tonight, but he couldn't make it." She let that sink in. "Instead, you see, he jumped out a fifth story window, cradling me, protecting me, after men tried to kill me at my house. And not just any men, but Neon Knights.
"I had a speech prepared. Really I did," she flashed a quick smile. "But I can't help feeling my words won't be enough to tell you why they need rights. What happened to me isn't unique. It happens to lots of people trying to bring about change. I was lucky that George was there and that a Judge put his life on the line for both of us. Instead I want you to see what people are doing to robots now that they have feelings. This is why they need protection just like you and me. Because without the law, men become monsters." She nodded at someone off stage and the video feed of her cut out.
Replacing it began a reel of nightmarish scenes. The first was a fight between robots, tearing each other apart for a darkened crowd roaring their pleasure. One gained the upper hand and hesitated dealing the killing blow and so the referee pulled out a little knife and cut a line in the back of the would be conqueror's neck. Oil gushed free and it collapsed as the second robot tried to drag itself away. Spectators leaped into the ring and humans pulled it to pieces. The next clip detailed a pretty woman smiling up at the camera. Hands reached out and took her face before running a knife down one cheek. What looked like black blood oozed free as she cried out and tried to back away. Dredd watched as she was cut into pieces, her gears and wiring exposed as she shrieked like a banshee and begged for her life. More and more scenes played out, each one worse than the last.
"I would like you to search your souls a moment," Eliza Del Monte instructed into the silence when it had finally ended. "People are doing this to robots. They are programming them specifically for these sick fantasies, so they can do things to feeling beings without breaking any laws. I'm not asking you to allow robots to vote, or to give them salaries, I'm asking you to protect their basic right to exist. I'm asking you to keep things like this from playing out," she pointed at the screen. "Maybe they don't have beating hearts but you cannot ape fear like that without actually knowing what it feels like. Don't let these people do these things. There is a fine line between some of those models and us. How long before we can't even tell the difference anymore? Look how far these people are going to live out these fantasies. If you won't do it to protect robots, do it to protect yourselves."
A shot rang out.
Eliza was on the floor before Dredd even registered it had happened. The crowd recoiled from a point in the middle like a receding tide. He turned to look in that direction and saw a robot, one of the George models, drop its pistol and bow very low. Even as Dredd raised his Lawgiver the robot's body blew apart in a million pieces of shrapnel, shearing through the crowd.
First responders rushed into the carnage as civilians fled shrieking. He watched a few seconds before he climbed onto the forgotten stage. Holstering his Lawgiver he came to a halt standing over Eliza's body, blood and brain matter pooled beneath her little blond bob cut. Her blue eyes were still open, staring vacantly up at him. He stooped and gathered her carefully up, closing her eyes before he lifted her.
"That was a helluva speech, Ms. Del Monte," he congratulated her corpse solemnly as he carried her back down the steps.