John raised the knife again and swung it around, lunging at his wife as Gabriel leapt toward him in a blur. Katherine screamed as the blade grazed her throat, and then Gabriel seized the man, grabbing him in a chokehold and yanking him down and away. He flipped John onto his face and twisted his right arm up straight, planting his knee in the man’s back, then glanced back at the two women. Katherine was slumped back against the wall, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. A single bead of blood ran down her neck, a small cut her only wound. Naomi took her arm and gave Gabriel a nod, then started to guide Katherine to the sofa.
John’s face was red with rage, pressed flat against the carpet. Gabriel looked down at him gravely, reviewing the facts of the incident once more in his mind. He took a deep breath, centering himself, then spoke.
“John Philip Horizon, by authority of the State, you will be questioned, judged, and sentenced.” He waited a moment, but the subject did not attempt to move or speak. “I, Gabriel Ward, judge you guilty of violence, of violating your Social Contract with the State and all your fellow citizens. I sentence you to be terminated.”
“No!” Katherine exclaimed, her hands clenched together. “Please, you can’t!”
John struggled, trying to twist out of Gabriel’s grasp. Gabriel sighed, set his stunner, and hit the man with a moderate voltage. John shuddered, then went limp, unconscious.
“No!” Katherine screamed.
“It is done—he has been sentenced,” Naomi said, putting a hand on her arm. Katherine began to cry—gasping, wrenching sobs that wracked her whole body.
“Please, please, you can’t. It was my fault too. We were fighting …” she managed to say. “I made him angry … you can’t terminate him, please …”
Naomi took a seat on the couch, her hand still on Katherine’s arm, and Katherine sat down heavily beside her.
“You can’t,” she repeated, voice softer.
Naomi took Katherine’s hand between her own. “It is done,” she said gently. “It is not your fault. John’s actions are his responsibility and no one else’s. No one can be judged for the crime of another.”
“I know,” Katherine whispered.
“Someone who commits such a violation of law and morality must be removed from the population. It is not cruelty, Katherine. He is too dangerous. This is the only way to be sure he will never harm anyone else ever again.”
Katherine looked down at her hands in her lap. She had knitted her fingers together so tightly her knuckles were white. “He’s a good man,” she said, voice thin. “He just can’t help it.”
“I know,” Naomi said.
Katherine looked up at her in surprise. “You do?”
“Everyone has good in them,” Naomi said. “But we can’t make our judgements based on who people are deep down inside. We have to judge what they actually do. Not their character, but their actions.”
Katherine bowed her head, looking unconvinced. Naomi looked back at Gabriel, and he slapped John lightly on the cheek. The man stirred; he was still only semiconscious, but Gabriel dragged him to his feet. His head fell to one side as he stood.
“We’ve got to get him processed,” Gabriel said. Naomi pressed Katherine’s hand and stood to help Gabriel maneuver the subject.
“Can’t you … can’t he just be transported to Work?” Katherine asked in a last, half-hearted plea. Gabriel shook his head.
“No,” he said, voice like stone. “No one gets a second attempt at murder.”
With that, he prodded the man, who groaned, and shoved him stumbling through the door, Naomi following close behind.
“I didn’t see it coming.” Naomi shook her head as they walked away from Municipal Building 4, where they had left John to be processed for termination. “I thought it was over, that he was putting the knife down. I was right there in front of him, and if I’d been there alone, that poor woman would be dead.”
“You weren’t there alone.”
“I should have seen it coming,” she repeated.
“Naomi, I’ve been stalking for fifteen years, and that’s only the second time I’ve seen something like that. A weapon? A man trying to murder his wife? The person he ought to love above anyone else? When something unthinkable happens, you just have to do your best.”
They walked on in silence for a moment, then Naomi looked up questioningly at him. “What was the first?”
“What?”
“You said it was the second time you saw something like that.”
“Right.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “It was almost exactly like what happened today, except I didn’t see it coming. He killed her, and himself, before I could stop him.”
Naomi nodded, her expression unchanging. She stopped walking and looked up at the sky for a moment, and Gabriel looped back to her.
“Let’s walk through the park,” she said suddenly. Gabriel’s heart lifted. They were off duty now. She could do anything she liked, go anywhere, with anyone, and here she was, spending her time with him.
“Anywhere you want,” he said and glanced backward. Municipal 4 was still in sight, but the street was crowded around them. “Maybe we should check in though.”
Naomi laughed, the clear sound ringing out in the night air like a bell. “It’s not forbidden, Gabriel,” she said and took his arm. “You’re such a stickler,” she added, pulling him close.
“I’m dedicated,” he retorted, and she laughed again.
“I’m teasing. You’re the best stalker I’ve ever known.”
The path into the park branched off, and they took it. Naomi let go of his arm and strode ahead toward the high bridge. Gabriel hurried to catch up. Naomi stopped at the crest of the bridge, where you could look out over half the city or look up and see the stars—the city and the park had been planned so that there would be places like this, where the light pollution was dim enough that the sky was thick with constellations.
Naomi leaned back against the concrete bridge support, looking up, and Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat. Her hair hung back in dark curls, and her expression was pensive, as if she saw something among the distant stars that he did not understand. She had changed into a loose red dress after their shift ended, and the way she stood now, it clung to her body; she might as well have been wearing nothing at all. Naomi looked at him, and he cast his eyes away hastily, feeling his cheeks flush.
“Gabriel,” she whispered and held out her hand. He grasped it, letting her pull him close, until the line of her body was almost brushing his.
“Naomi,” he began, not knowing what he would say next, and she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.
“You still look at me like you’re afraid to touch me,” she murmured, and he put his hands on her waist, marveling at her warmth.
“I’m not afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I just …” He searched for words, and she tugged at his hair, then let it go, tracing her hand down the back of his neck. He shivered.
“Just what?” She kissed his throat, just above his collarbone, pressing herself close against him, and he swallowed hard.