beneath the Sector Nine Resyk plant, Efil Drago San turned from the monitor with a smirk.
"Ah, me," he said. "The rich, thick panoply that is life. An extremely spectacular bloody death, indeed. Tell me, computer, what are our figures like at the moment?"
The computer was in fact an ArViD, which stood for Artificial Virally-Induced Destabilisation - a means of producing cheap, disposable Artificial Intelligences by way of pseudo-viral spores eating through a block of biogel to produce the equivalent of synapses.
The combination of a short life span and of basically being a diseased lump of mechanically-reclaimed quasi-meat tended to make these Artificial Intelligences somewhat unstable at the best of times. Drago San's computer was currently suffering from a variety of schizophrenic dementia.
This was useful in that one of its split personalities was sufficiently rabid as to serve as a Commentator out in the Killing Zone, while others were suitable for administration.
When it spoke, its voice was as mild and clipped as any major domo:
"Gambling revenues remain constant, sir," it said, "though extrapolated viewing figures are slightly down. That always happens towards the end of a cycle."
"Ah, yes," said Efil Drago San. "The Little Old Lady Factor."
"I beg your pardon, sir?" the computer asked politely.
"People tend to pick favourites," Efil Drago San explained. "The little old lady demographic in particular. The old biddies pick a fighter to follow, and when he dies they simply tune out. That isn't offset by an actual sense of occasion when the cycle ends - the last fighter standing, in the Killing Zone, is just the last one left alive. And then we shoot him."
He became thoughtful. "I should tweak things a little, possibly."
"Make the end of the cycle an occasion?" The ARViD-processes might have given the computer a short shelf-life and made it effectively insane, but they also allowed it to push the envelope so far as intuitive thinking was concerned. It could make actual suggestions, which was a big deal in terms of computer technology. "Have the last survivor actually win something?"
Drago San grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of something to wipe out the whole little old lady demographic entirely," he said. "Much more fun. In any case, when this current cycle of the Killing Zone ends, when will we be ready to initiate the new?"
"Almost immediately," the computer said. "The new crop of fighters is implanted and prepped and ready to go. We had some pretty good material to work with this time - thanks to that windfall we had, courtesy of the Justice Department."
A week before, a squad of Judges from the Undercover Division,commonly known as the Wally Squad, had targeted the Killing Zone and attempted to infiltrate Drago San's lair.
They were currently being... modified, in preparation for a closer look at the Killing Zone than anyone with an attachment to their sanity, and not to mention their limbs, could wish.
"One can always rely on the Judges," said Efil Drago San happily. "And speaking of which, how are their investigations proceeding now? Any new offensive that might be of concern?"
"It's all over the Mega-City newscasts," said the computer. "You really should keep up with the news, sir."
"I never watch the news, computer," said Efil Drago San. "I prefer to make it. So what are the Mega-City newscasts saying?"
"That Judge Dredd has been assigned to the case," the computer said. "Arrests, detentions and all kinds of Judicial mayhem are expected momentarily."
"The notorious Judge Dredd, eh?" Drago San exclaimed with delight. "My word, that opens up some distinct possibilities."
He sat for a moment, considering the distinct possibilities. Then: "Computer?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Hold back on starting a new cycle when the current one ends," said Drago San. "Clear the boards and ready the heavy-customisation skeining-vats. I have in mind the setting up of a very special event."
EIGHT
" Merely
"Ah, me," he said. "The rich, thick panoply that is life. An extremely spectacular bloody death, indeed. Tell me, computer, what are our figures like at the moment?"
The computer was in fact an ArViD, which stood for Artificial Virally-Induced Destabilisation - a means of producing cheap, disposable Artificial Intelligences by way of pseudo-viral spores eating through a block of biogel to produce the equivalent of synapses.
The combination of a short life span and of basically being a diseased lump of mechanically-reclaimed quasi-meat tended to make these Artificial Intelligences somewhat unstable at the best of times. Drago San's computer was currently suffering from a variety of schizophrenic dementia.
This was useful in that one of its split personalities was sufficiently rabid as to serve as a Commentator out in the Killing Zone, while others were suitable for administration.
When it spoke, its voice was as mild and clipped as any major domo:
"Gambling revenues remain constant, sir," it said, "though extrapolated viewing figures are slightly down. That always happens towards the end of a cycle."
"Ah, yes," said Efil Drago San. "The Little Old Lady Factor."
"I beg your pardon, sir?" the computer asked politely.
"People tend to pick favourites," Efil Drago San explained. "The little old lady demographic in particular. The old biddies pick a fighter to follow, and when he dies they simply tune out. That isn't offset by an actual sense of occasion when the cycle ends - the last fighter standing, in the Killing Zone, is just the last one left alive. And then we shoot him."
He became thoughtful. "I should tweak things a little, possibly."
"Make the end of the cycle an occasion?" The ARViD-processes might have given the computer a short shelf-life and made it effectively insane, but they also allowed it to push the envelope so far as intuitive thinking was concerned. It could make actual suggestions, which was a big deal in terms of computer technology. "Have the last survivor actually win something?"
Drago San grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of something to wipe out the whole little old lady demographic entirely," he said. "Much more fun. In any case, when this current cycle of the Killing Zone ends, when will we be ready to initiate the new?"
"Almost immediately," the computer said. "The new crop of fighters is implanted and prepped and ready to go. We had some pretty good material to work with this time - thanks to that windfall we had, courtesy of the Justice Department."
A week before, a squad of Judges from the Undercover Division,commonly known as the Wally Squad, had targeted the Killing Zone and attempted to infiltrate Drago San's lair.
They were currently being... modified, in preparation for a closer look at the Killing Zone than anyone with an attachment to their sanity, and not to mention their limbs, could wish.
"One can always rely on the Judges," said Efil Drago San happily. "And speaking of which, how are their investigations proceeding now? Any new offensive that might be of concern?"
"It's all over the Mega-City newscasts," said the computer. "You really should keep up with the news, sir."
"I never watch the news, computer," said Efil Drago San. "I prefer to make it. So what are the Mega-City newscasts saying?"
"That Judge Dredd has been assigned to the case," the computer said. "Arrests, detentions and all kinds of Judicial mayhem are expected momentarily."
"The notorious Judge Dredd, eh?" Drago San exclaimed with delight. "My word, that opens up some distinct possibilities."
He sat for a moment, considering the distinct possibilities. Then: "Computer?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Hold back on starting a new cycle when the current one ends," said Drago San. "Clear the boards and ready the heavy-customisation skeining-vats. I have in mind the setting up of a very special event."
EIGHT
" Merely
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