sure what kind of sensors Griffin might have above-ground, but he saw no reason to take any chances now.
Hershey caught up with him, peered over his shoulders into the near-darkened street. Dredd held a scanner in his hand, watching the line of green static dance across the tiny screen.
“Dead ahead,” Hershey said. “Right?”
“Down there.” Dredd thumbed shells into the Remington, racked the slide to bring number one into the chamber.
“Looks like you guys have got everything under control,” Fergie said. “I’ll watch the Lawmasters. Nobody’s going to get past me.”
“I might need you down there,” Dredd said. “To help shut down the Janus system.”
“I knew you were going to say that. I knew it.”
Dredd looked up. The street looked much the same. The debris from the block war had been scraped up and hauled away, but no one had bothered to fix the lights. In the glow from the faraway heights of Mega-City, he could see the broken profile of the Liberty Lady’s face, embedded in the ancient brick wall. One sad and empty eye, part of a cheek, a piece of a heavy brow. Higher in the wall, the suggestion of a hand, a rusted torch. Dredd looked away, studied the scanner, and led his group inside.
The building had been closed for repairs, then forgotten. It was hard to guess how many years ago. Dredd walked through the empty hallways, following the scanner’s electric glow. A concrete stairway led to a cellar below. Water dripped from old ceramic pipes. Something squealed ahead, scuttled off into the dark.
Fergie stopped. “What’s that?”
“We’re down in the lower levels,” Dredd told him. “What’s the problem? You said you had friends down here.”
Fergie didn’t answer. He kept close to Dredd. He wondered what the creatures ate down here. Where would they find any food? He decided not to think about that, decided that he might not like it if he knew.
Dredd stopped. Ahead was a concrete wall. “The scanner says the source of the power surge is straight ahead.” He nodded at the solid wall. “Right there.”
“My Lawgiver might blast through it,” Hershey said. “But I doubt it. If it did, everyone in Red Quad would hear it.”
“Forget it. Got to be some other way.”
Fergie let out a breath. “People, just move aside, will you?” He shook his head at Dredd. “I’ll bet you locked yourself in the bathroom when you were a kid, right?”
Fergie pressed his palms against the wall in a dozen places, walked down the entire width, and started over again.
“It’s an old-fashioned pressure lock. Fifty, sixty years ago. The Hush-O-Door. Big rage back then. Known in the trade as ‘The Burglar’s Delight.’ Nobody’s been dumb enough to use one since.”
He bent down and touched the wall again. “Dealer sold you the software. You set the gimmick up, picked your own contact point. Most groons put it two, three inches above the floor. Like a good break-and-enter man would be too lazy to squat a little, right?”
Fergie pressed three fingers against the wall. Nothing. Moved a foot to the right. The third time, he moved down a foot and a half. Pressed against the cold concrete. A seam appeared, the width of a door. Fergie gave it a gentle shove. The slab of concrete hissed aside.
“Very impressive,” Hershey said.
“Not bad,” said Dredd.
“Thanks,” Fergie said, “I’m underwhelmed by your support.” The door slid shut behind him. “If anyone’s interested, that thing hasn’t been used in a hell of a long time. Whoever’s coming in and out of this Janus deal has another way than this.”
“Good,” Dredd said. “Maybe they won’t expect us.”
“I’ll drink to that. Soon as we find a bar.”
“Scanner?” said Hershey.
“That way,” said Dredd.
The passage went another hundred yards, twisting in every direction, the floor slanting steadily down. Dredd noticed the absence of rats and guessed the reason why. He didn’t need the scanner now. He could feel the deep tremor of power. The rats didn’t like that at all. Dredd didn’t blame them. He hefted the Remington and nodded at Hershey. Hershey raised the Lawgiver above her head, telling him she got the warning and understood.
“Air.” Fergie sniffed. “Fresher than where we’ve been. Processed air.”
Dredd nodded. The corridor took a sharp turn to the left up ahead. “Douse the light,” he said. “Stay near.”
He moved past the corner. Hershey followed.
“We’re close,” she said softly. “I can feel the electricity in my hair. We’d better—
A blur of metal, cold and silver-bright. It whipped around Hershey’s waist, jerked her off her feet. The Lawgiver fell from her hands. Dredd brought his Remington up to fire, The robot was faster. An automatic weapon chattered in its free hand, stitching a deadly path. Fergie stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at the monster overhead.
Dredd didn’t stop, couldn’t risk a look back. He bent low and stalked toward the big robot, blasting with the Remington, racking one shell into the chamber after the next, knowing he wasn’t even denting the metal warrior’s hide, that he didn’t dare fire at the brute’s face or its steel and copper gut. He might put a hole in the son of a bitch’s vital parts, but he might hit Hershey instead.
A bullet plowed a shallow furrow through the flesh of Dredd’s upper arm. The pain rocked him on his heels. He sucked in a breath, fired again and again.
Hershey screamed, kicking out against the robot’s grip. The warrior took a step toward Dredd, its massive foot sending a minor tremor through the earth. The other foot creaked, whirred, came down hard. Gray dust showered from the ceiling. Dredd threw himself aside, saw a flash of metal struts, hydraulics and coils, winking red lights, tucked behind the foot’s steel plates.
The robot turned, its gleaming arms whirring as it fired a volley at Dredd. Dredd felt flecks of stone slice his cheek. He rolled, came to his feet, held the Remington at his waist and blasted at the narrow slit in the robot’s metal joint.
A blue electric flash, a wisp of black smoke. Dredd fired again, saw the bright sizzle, heard the high-pitched whine as steel tendons snapped. A silver tube whipped free, writhed like a snake, and pumped dark and foul- smelling lubricants into the air.
The robot shuddered. Its brain said FORWARD MODE. One foot made it off the ground. The other didn’t budge. The robot roared like a prehistoric beast, teetered, then hit the floor like a quake, FORWARD MODE was still intact. The robot pounded its good foot against the ground, a jackhammer gone berserk.
Hershey was still in the robot’s grip. Dredd ran to her. Maybe he could find a handy tool somewhere, use the Remington to pry her free…
He heard the sigh of air, turned, saw the door slide open behind him. Rico. Rico and a woman. Both held weapons in their hands. He recognized the woman at once. Ilsa Hayden from Rico’s trial. What was
“That’ll be enough,” Rico said. “Just put the weapon down.”
“No way. I shot this thing. I’m going to eat it.”
“That’s amusing, I’m sure.” Rico turned to the robot. “Fido, you clumsy bastard, if you don’t mind
“Hershey? You all right?”
“I’m—yes, I’m all right, Dredd.”
Dredd let the Remington fall from his hand.
Rico laughed. “How human of you. You’ve become a romantic,
