by J. R. Harber
Gabriel stood and turned away, pressing his hands over his face.
Breathe.
“Look, I understand that all of us were created for this,” he said. “But you know as well as I do that there is a reason I am accustomed to free rein. There is a reason you have always trusted me implicitly! My record is impeccable, and the fact of my partner’s murder is not my fault.” He stopped for a moment, so tense he was nearly shaking.
“It is precisely this lack of emotional detachment that I am concerned about. You’re obviously distraught,” Hiram said mildly.
Gabriel clenched his fists again, then let them go.
Breathe.
“I am emotionally detached from this case. But we aren’t even talking about this case. We’re talking about my fitness for my … my own life. I’m not distraught. I am frustrated by the fact that I am being judged not on my record as a Contract Enforcer but for the death of the woman I loved!”
Hiram opened his mouth to speak, but Gabriel pressed on.
“I mastered sifting when I was a child. When the other kids were sorting out shapes, I was sorting through the subtext of human interaction. I was given my commission as a Contract Enforcer at the age of nineteen, with an exemption granted for my youth by the Chancellor himself. No decision of mine has ever been found wanting. My actions have been scrutinized over and over again and each time found to be exemplary.” He turned on Joan. “That textbook you’re so cozy with was rewritten five years ago. Do you know why?”
She shook her head, wide-eyed, and he turned to Hiram.
“Do you?” he asked in a low voice.
Hiram nodded. “Yes, Gabriel,” he said softly. “Of course I do. Joan, the textbook he is referring to is several books—it’s the series on Practicalities: all the techniques, large and small, all the habits and practices of the ideal Contract Enforcer. It was rewritten because Gabriel so radically changed our view of what is ideal. He was—is—the model. For you and for all of us.”
Joan looked from Hiram to Gabriel, then to Omar on the screen, who smiled at her.
“Gabriel, please do not think for a moment that you are any less our ideal Contract Enforcer than you ever were,” Omar added. “You are exemplary, and I take personal pride in watching you.”
“As do I,” Hiram said.
“Thank you, sir … sirs,” Gabriel said, his face flushed. He was wavering between righteous indignation and embarrassment, and the feeling was awkward. He sat down, oddly deflated.
“However,” Hiram continued, “I cannot allow my own judgement to become clouded by my respect and affection for you, Gabriel. You do not have enough evidence to pursue this case in the manner you desire.”
“But they’ll get away!” Gabriel nearly leapt from his seat again but stopped himself, gripping the seat of the chair until his knuckles went white.
Hiram looked puzzled. “It’s not as if we don’t have jurisdiction in Rosewood,” he said. “We’ll go find them when you discover additional evidence that proves a crime has occurred.”
Gabriel shook his head in frustration. How can they not see this? “The dead man is Daniel James Horizon,” he said. “Suspected of running, or at least being deeply involved in …” he grasped for words. “Everything illicit that happens in the city and beyond. In supporting, or more likely controlling, the illegitimate black-market bank that supports the whole criminal underground.”
A new alertness came over Hiram’s face, and he exchanged a quick glance with Omar, who still watched silently on the monitor.
“Do you believe that Eve is involved?” Hiram asked. “I’m intimately familiar with Daniel’s history and the suspicions around him. There’s never been any whisper about Eve. It’s actually somewhat surprising—he seems to have gone out of his way to keep her clear of his criminal activity.”
“Do you really think that’s plausible?” Gabriel asked.
“Even Daniel’s involvement is impossible to prove,” Hiram reminded him. “Everything is done through proxies, hidden beneath layers of secrecy. There is no reason he couldn’t have kept her in the dark as well.”
“By the same argument, he could have shared everything with her, and we wouldn’t have a clue.”
Hiram and Gabriel stared at each other; Gabriel was the first to break.
“Look, check their phones, see where they are now,” he began.
“It’s not warranted.”
“It could prove their innocence! If they’re—I don’t know—at Municipal 2, reporting Daniel’s death, I’ll let this go right now.”
Hiram glanced at Omar, who gave a curt nod. He typed instructions quickly, and they all waited as he looked patiently at the screen only he could see.
“They appear to be in Daniel’s apartment,” Hiram said.
He started typing again.
“Check the—”
“The drones? Yes, thank you, Gabriel.” An edge of sarcasm had slipped into Hiram’s voice. Gabriel fell silent. After a moment Hiram looked up. “No life signs in the apartment.”
“If she’s been in on Daniel’s activities, she could be the key to dismantling the underground banking system,” Gabriel said tightly. “And if I don’t go now, she could vanish. Daniel’s organization could hide her. If she doesn’t know anything and Daniel committed suicide, why are they running? They could even go out into the Waste.”
Hiram looked at him sharply. “If they do, it’s no longer our problem,” he said.
“No, sir, it’s not.”
“I mean these words, Gabriel. If they go out into the Waste, they can’t return—they are no longer a threat to the State, no longer within your jurisdiction.”
“I understand, sir,” Gabriel said quietly.
Hiram paused for a moment, then looked back to his superior with a thoughtful gaze.
Omar cleared his throat. “Hiram. He’s been our best Contract Enforcer for fifteen years. The best we’ve ever had. If we can’t trust him, the whole damn system is broken. Give him the passenger drone.”
Hiram nodded. “I agree.” He met Gabriel’s eyes. “Move quickly.”
The drone made no sound as it flew in a straight line toward Rosewood. Joan kept looking around nervously, as if she was afraid they might fall out of the sky.
“Ever flown before?” Gabriel asked finally, hoping to distract her.
She snapped to attention. “Of course. During training.” She glanced outside again. “Only once, though.”
“It takes getting used to,” Gabriel said.
For him, though, it hadn’t. As soon as he’d climbed into the round belly of a passenger drone, he’d felt an instant thrill. The drones were essentially transparent bubbles. Only the floor was opaque, covered in gray rubber. Gabriel had read they were originally clear everywhere, so you could see through the floor, but the effect of looking down from thousands of feet in the air made too many people sick.
Joan looked down again. They were flying over the community of Fairfield, high enough to make the people on the ground look like ants.
“It’s odd people can’t see us,” she said.
“Passenger drones are always cloaked,” Gabriel said. “People are used to the small ones, but these larger models would cause unnecessary stress to the public.”
“I know—hence my comment,” she said. “It just seems … strange. That’s all.”
He shrugged. “So stop looking down. Start focusing on how we’re going to find these runners.”
It was midafternoon when they arrived.
They touched down in an open field far enough away so they wouldn’t be spotted. Gabriel would have preferred to land directly in front of the house, which usually intimidated subjects. Instead, they walked for five minutes through a glade before the quaint little farm came into view. As they approached the house, Gabriel saw a curtain twitch in the front window.
“They’re expecting us,” he said.
Joan nodded. “Good,” she said. “That means they know something.
”
The door swung open as soon as Joan knocked on it. A woman stood in the entryway, her face flushed.
“Yes?” she said, her eyes flicking from Joan to Gabriel and back again.
“Contract Enforcement. I’m Gabriel,” he said. She’s frightened. Be kind. She’ll tell you more if you’re nice. “This is my partner, Joan. We’re here to ask you some questions about Asa. Your son.”
“Yes, I know.” She cleared her throat. “Come in.”
She held the door open for them to enter. Gabriel glanced around, scanning the room, but there was nothing of obvious interest. Joan was doing the same but more slowly, more carefully.
They’re not here, he wanted to say. The mother’s almost calm. They’ve got to be gone already.
Asa’s mother led them into the kitchen, where a burly man and a teenage girl were already sitting at a plain wooden table. The girl was playing nervously with her hair, twisting it around one finger repeatedly. The man had his hands folded on the table in front of him, his elbows resting on the edge. The man gave Gabriel a hard stare as he walked in, and Gabriel met his eyes, holding his gaze until he looked away.
“How can we help you?” the man said as the wife came to sit beside him.
“You’re the family of Asa Isaac Rosewood,” Joan said. There was a new, hard edge to her voice. “Isaac Thomas Rosewood, father. Sarah Anna Rosewood, mother. Hannah Sarah Rosewood, the younger sister.” She recited their names as impersonally as a census autom.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Isaac said quietly.
“Do you know why we’re here?” Gabriel said.
“We do.”
“So where is Asa?” Joan asked in the same, near-robotic tone. Gabriel looked at her with interest. It was not a technique she’d been taught in training, and he wasn’t sure what to think of it.
“We don’t know,” Sarah said quickly. “He refused to tell us anything.”
“And why was that?” Gabriel asked.
“So we couldn’t tell you. So you’d leave us alone.” The sister, Hannah, stared at him defiantly.
Gabriel suppressed a smile. “That was unwise of him,” he said, letting the warmth drain from his eyes as his expression hardened. He leaned over the table until he was only a few inches from Hannah’s face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah begin to move toward the table. Isaac put a hand on her arm, restraining her. “It was unwise for your brother to keep information from you. I need information, and it will be better for everyone if I get it now.”
Something smacked the table, rattling around under Gabriel’s lean torso. He straightened.
Sarah was standing, shaking with rage, a heavy wooden spoon in her hand. “That’s enough.”
She rapped the spoon on the table again, and Isaac touched her arm a second time; he was still seated, his broad face impassive.
“Sarah, please remain calm,” Isaac said softly.
She didn’t respond, but she seemed to relax slightly at his touch. Gabriel watched the interaction with a pang of déjà vu he could not quite place. It wasn’t a memory, just recognition.
When Naomi touched me, everything weighing on my shoulders lightened too.
He waited. Sarah slapped the spoon lightly into the palm of her hand, then wrapped her fingers around it tightly, holding the utensil in front of her as though she could shield herself with it.
“Asa came here late this morning,” she said. “He said he was in trouble, and he couldn’t tell us why. He didn’t stay long.”
“Was he alone?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“She’s lying,” Joan said. He glanced at her, having almost forgotten her presence.
“I know,” he said mildly. When I need your help, I’ll ask for it, he thought. “Sarah, tell me the truth, please. Who was with Asa?”
“A woman.” Her lips went tight every time she stopped talking, as if she was physically trying to keep the words inside.
“Her name?”
“Neither of them said. I didn’t ask.”
Truth.
“What about you?” Gabriel turned to Hannah, who shrank back from his gaze. “Did she tell you her name? Did either of them say her name?” Hannah shook her head mutely. “What did she look like?”
Hannah swallowed. “She was beautiful,” she managed to say.
Sarah broke in. “Please, leave my daughter alone. We will tell you everything we know.”
“Actually, I need to know everything that you know and everything she knows as well.”
“Then let me ask her the questions. Hannah, did Asa or his friend say anything to you about where they were going?”
“No,” she whispered.
Gabriel nodded. Truth, but not all of it.
“What else did you talk about?” he demanded.
“Stalker!” Sarah hit the table again.
Gabriel made a point of waiting a beat before looking at her. “Are you challenging my authority to pursue these suspects?” he asked calmly.
She shook her head. “There’s something else you need to know,” she said. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and she tapped the spoon against her palm, nervously this time. “Asa didn’t just say that he was in trouble. He said, ‘I didn’t do anything, but it looks like I did.’”
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes, I do.”
Truth.
Gabriel turned to Isaac. “Come with me. I need to speak with you outside,” he said curtly. “Joan, the girl is hiding something. Please find out what it is.”
He walked to the door, not looking back. As he opened it, he heard Isaac push his chair back from the table, murmuring something to his family. A moment later, he walked out of the house.
“What’s this tactic?” Isaac demanded. “Separating us to see if our stories match?”
“No,” Gabriel said. He walked toward the garden and stood at the neat break in the grass where it began. “Who does the planting?”
“We all do,” Isaac answered. “Don’t play games, stalker. Just ask me what you really want to know.”
Gabriel smiled. “Not many people call us that name to our faces,” he said, turning around with a sinister stare.
If Isaac found his face disturbing, he did not show it. “I like to call things how I see them,” he said.
“Good,” Gabriel said. “So, what time did your son leave?”
“I don’t know.”
Half-truth.
“Tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth.”
“Not quite.”
“It’s the truth,” Isaac repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I know it isn’t everything you know.”
“Do you think we’re stupid out here in the country? That we believe those made-up rumors that stalkers can tell if you’re lying? I’m telling you the truth.”
Gabriel smiled again. “I had no idea that was a rumor. So, tell me where Asa is going.”
“I don’t know.”
Truth? But he has some idea.
“Is he going into the Waste?” Gabriel stared intently at Isaac’s face; his expression was enough to answer the question.
Gabriel nodded. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t say anything. I told you, I don’t know where he’s going!”
“You’ve been very helpful,” Gabriel said curtly, walking back into the house with a newfound energy.
“I said I don’t know anything!” Isaac yelled, rushing in behind him. Joan stood to attention quickly as Gabriel entered the kitchen.
“Time to go,” he said.
She nodded, and they started toward the front door.
“Wait, what’s going to happen to Asa?” Sarah shouted, scurrying behind them.
Gabriel caught Joan’s eye with a quick shake of his head. When they reached the door, he turned to face the family. Hannah’s eyes were red, and Sarah looked as if she might snap her wooden spoon.
Without emotion, Gabriel said,
“Asa and his companion have gone into the Waste. Thank you for your time.”
For a shocked moment, none of them spoke, then the family collapsed in on itself, clinging together in disbelief.
“No, he hasn’t!” Hannah screamed, her voice raw, and she began to sob, the choked noise of her grief wracking the quiet countryside as her parents clutched her between them. Gabriel and Joan turned away and started walking back the way they’d come.
“Is that true?” Joan asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
“I believe so. It’s definitely where the father thinks they were going.”
“Well, do you want to know what the sister was hiding?”
“Yes, please.”
“Asa told her he would be coming back.”
“He was lying to her. Giving her comfort.”
“I don’t think so,” Joan said.
“Why?”
“He said he was going to ‘fix it’—whatever trouble he was in, he was going to fix it.”
“Not unless he can bring a man back to life,” Gabriel said grimly.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
“It’s probably too late to catch them at the checkpoint,” Gabriel said when they reached the drone. “So we’ll follow their route with the assumption they’re already in the Waste. It’ll be harder to follow their trail once we’re out there, but it can be done. Joan, come on.”
Joan stopped, still standing in the middle of the field where they’d landed. She was looking at him as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Joan?” he said.
“We can’t go into the Waste,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re even suggesting that.”
“At this point they’re barely over the border,” Gabriel argued. “We’ll pick them up before they’ve gone a few miles.”
“Gabriel, they’re no longer our problem,” Joan said. She set her jaw, nervously resolute.
“Eve could hold the key to bringing down the entire black market. And Asa is a murderer.”
“Gabriel!” Joan looked shocked. “Are you listening to yourself? If they’ve gone into the Waste, they can never come back. You heard Hiram. We don’t serve our purpose with the State by chasing them out there.”
“I disagree.” Gabriel shook his head. “He killed someone and she’s a criminal lowlife. We can’t just let them go.”
