Suddenly they came around a turn in the walkway and there was the waterfall. Part of it reflected the colors of the rings above. There was spray on his face. He looked down. Just ahead of them was a place where the obsidian was wet. The moonwood railing had been doubled at that point but there was still a distance of at least two feet from the bottom where a person could easily slip under. He looked farther down—straight down. The chasm was half a mile—the highest drop on Belsin.

He looked behind him. They could not be seen. Okay, he thought. Best to be quick about it.

He took her firmly by the arm, put his free arm around her waist.

She turned and looked at his face. Hers was calm, open. “You’re going to kill me. Aren’t you, Edward?” she said.

“That’s right,” he said. “I didn’t think you knew.”

“Oh, I knew all right,” she said.

For a moment he was frightened. “Have you told anyone? Written anyone?”

“No.”

“That’s stupid of you. To tell me that. You could have lied.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But Edward, a part of me has always wanted to die. My kind of life is hardly worth the effort. I’m not sure that getting well would change that either.”

They stood there like that by the waterfall for a full several minutes. He had her gripped firmly. It would only be a matter of putting one of his feet behind hers, tripping her and pushing her under the railing. She looked very calm and yet not passive. His heart was beating furiously. His skin seemed extraordinarily sensitive; he felt each drop of spray as it hit. The waterfall sounded very loud.

He stared down at her. She looked pathetic. “Aren’t you frightened?” he said.

She did not speak for a moment. Then she said, “Yes, I’m frightened, Edward. But I’m not terrified.”

He had to admit that. She was taking it very well. “Would you rather jump?” he said. He could let go of her. There was no way she could outrun him. And he wanted no bruises from his hands on her arms, no shoe mark of his on her legs. Her body—what was left of her body—would be studied by the best criminologists from Earth; he could be sure her family would see to that. She’d be kept frozen in orbit until the experts got there.

Thinking of that, he looked up toward the sky. The rings had begun to fade. “No,” Myra said. “I can’t jump. It’s too frightening. You’ll have to push me.”

“All right,” he said, looking back to her.

“Edward,” she said. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ve always hated pain.”

Those were her last words. She did not fight back. When he pushed her off she fell silently, in the low gravity, for a long, long time before smashing herself on the obsidian at the bottom of the chasm.

As he looked up the rings appeared again, but only for a moment.