She nearly wept with relief when she caught the sound of a gurney being moved out of the transport. She waited until the sound faded before cautiously peeking out.
The drivers were gone. But so was Romanof’s body!
A ramp now extended down from the transport and ran several meters before ending near the entrance to a building, the door to which was in the process of closing, leaving her little doubt as to where the Harvesters had gone.
Damn. It wasn't like she could just walk in after them.
Climbing from the bin, she stuffed the displaced clothing back inside. That's when her gaze fell on the white robes hanging above the bin. Maybe she could walk right in.
A quick glance out the back of the transport told her she was still alone. Taking down a robe, she slipped it on, doing her best not to think about who last wore it, and pulled the hood over her head. The Harvesters' habit of hiding their faces would work to her advantage.
Seeing past the fabric folds hanging in front of her wasn’t as bad as she’d thought and the loose weave of the material allowed her freedom of movement. This idea might work out better than she’d hoped.
“You there,” a man’s voice boomed out, speaking in standard Terran and startling her. "Help me with these bodies."
Angel whirled around to face the robed figure who'd just come through the door and was walking up the ramp toward her. He stopped just outside the transport and she heard him draw a quick breath.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Haun,” he hurried to apologize. “I didn’t know it was you. I'm Tech Dos'tre,” he added, gesturing to the off-white lettering across the front of his robe. Angel assumed there was similar lettering on the robe she was wearing, but didn't want to be obvious and look.
"I'm sorry again," the man continued, obviously misinterpreting her silence as a sign of displeasure. "I thought Central sent someone to help us with the bodies. We're behind schedule and short a man."
Was that opportunity she heard knocking? Think how much time would be saved searching for Romanof’s body if someone led her to it.
“I’ll help,” Angel offered, keeping her voice pitched low. She had no idea if Dr. Haun was male or female.
“No, really doctor. That's not necessary. I'm sure the other man will be here shortly.” The man sounded surprised she would offer.
"I insist," she said, keeping her tone short. "Unless you'd rather we fall further behind schedule."
"No, of course not."
He moved quickly to the nearest gurney, pulling it forward while Angel moved to the other end. Pushing it down the ramp, they went through the door and started down a cold, dark hallway.
Doors lined both sides, but they walked past them, stopping only when they reached the lift at the end. When the doors opened, they wheeled the gurney inside and Angel waited while the tech entered a command on a control panel. If he found her continued silence odd, he gave no indication of it.
Romanof was maintaining radio silence but she knew he was listening to everything going on.
When the lift doors opened on the lower level, she helped push the gurney off and they continued walking down another, equally dark hallway past more closed doors labeled with signs in a language Angel couldn’t read.
At the seventh door, Tech Dos'tre pulled the gurney to a stop.
“In here,” he said, backing into the door so it swung open and pulling the gurney in after him.
Angel nearly tripped over her own feet as she got her first look at the room. It looked like a morgue, filled with rows of donor bodies stretched out on gurneys. Some of them were hooked to IVs, which Angel assumed was how the Harvesters kept the bodies nourished. Countertops running along the side walls displayed various pieces of laboratory equipment. The tech steered the gurney through the door at the far end of the room which took them into another room filled with donors and, to Angel's great relief, Romanof’s body was one of them.
Before she could think what to do about it, the tech had steered their gurney to a spot at the far end of the room. Then he started back to the door, stopping when Angel didn't immediately follow after him.
"Dr. Haun? Is something wrong?"
"No. I'm coming.”
She went reluctantly out into the hallway and back to the lift, the tech walking by her side.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” he said as they rode up the lift. “I’d heard about you.” He laughed and it sounded self-conscious. “Who hasn’t heard about you? You’re the whole reason Operation Rebirth is possible. And here you are helping me unload donors. Who’s going to believe this?”
Who indeed, Angel wondered as she returned to the transport and helped him move another donor body into the building. Certainly not Romanof, who’d finally broken his silence and was setting up a low-level buzz in her ear, telling her to stop “playing around.”
Fortunately, the Harvester didn’t seem to notice the noise. They pushed the second donor along the same path they’d taken the first. About to return once more to the transport for the last body, the door to the room suddenly opened and two robed figures appeared pushing it between them.
“Pieta seems anxious about this group of donors,” one of the men was saying as he backed into the room, pulling the gurney after him. “You know what he’s like when he’s this way.”
“You’d think someone had just told him that he was headed for re-cycle, not re-birth," the other man agreed. Upon noticing Angel and Dos'tre standing there, he paused to stare at them. "Dr. Haun!” He pulled the gurney to a halt. “What are you doing here?”
Unsure how to answer, Angel kept quiet allowing Dos'tre to answer for her.
“Dr. Haun helped me unload the donors.”
“He what?” The first one asked, answering one of Angel's questions. Dr. Haun was male. "Dr. Haun, I must apologize for such an imposition." He turned to the tech. "I will deal with you later."
All three figures turned to her, expecting her to say something. The real Dr. Haun was obviously an important figure. What reason would someone like that have to be down here? “It served my purpose to assist the tech," she replied. "I wished to inspect the new arrivals as soon as possible."
Angel found herself holding her breath, hoping they accepted her explanation. They didn't.
“Let’s not mince words,” the second man said, speaking carefully. “I know why you’re here. I have already explained to Pieta about the mix-up with the tags. I’ve been forced to re-cycle several of my workers and with a shrinking pool to pull from, well, there are going to be mistakes. But I assure you, everything is under control once again and there’s no need for you to trouble yourself. I’m sure you have more important things to attend to. Please don't let us keep you.”
With three of them to one of her, she was not really in a position to argue.
"They're afraid of you," Romanof buzzed in her ear. "Use it to your advantage. Strike them now before they can anticipate it."
"Stop telling me what to do!" She bit out, too distracted by Romanof's incessant buzzing in her ear to realize she'd spoken out loud.
The three Harvesters visibly stiffened as they each took a step back.
Wonderful, Angel thought. Now they knew she wasn't one of them. She started to reach for her laser only to stop when she remembered it was lying in the planter back at the control tower. Hand-to-hand combat, then. Not her forte, but against men in robes - maybe she had a chance.
"My apologies, Dr. Haun," the man who'd just suggested she leave said. Angel could hear a new tension in his tone. "I meant no offense. Of course, you're welcome to stay. I only meant to reassure you that I have everything under control."
She dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I understand you have a job to do - as do I,” she replied. “We’ve already sent more workers than we can afford to re-cycle. It would be a shame to lose another. I'm here to examine the new arrivals but as I'm sure you have someplace you need to be, I won't keep you any longer.”
“Thank you, Dr. Haun,” mu
mbled the Harvester she’d originally helped as he backed out of the room. There was a muttered “your forgiveness” from the second Harvester as he did the same. Angel smiled at their submissive acceptance of her words, knowing the hood hid her expression. She turned to the remaining Harvester.
“Don’t say anything,” Romanof instructed. “Make him break the silence first.”
Leave it to Romanof to know all the power plays, Angel thought, but she did as he said and waited. It seemed to take forever, but finally the Harvester shrugged.
“Your forgiveness, Dr. Haun. Perhaps I may be of service?”
“I do not require your assistance - but thank you.” She thought he might argue with her, but then she saw his head dip in a nod.
“Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I have a job to finish.” He left the room and Angel relaxed a little.
“Are they gone?” Romanof asked.
“Yes. Should I take your body someplace else to do the transfer?”
“No, it’s too risky. But we’d better wait a minute. Let’s make sure no one comes back to check on you. Walk around and pretend to study the bodies.”
After ten tocks of pretending to study the bodies, she decided no one was coming back to check on her, so now was as good a time as any to start the transfer process.
The room was empty except for the rows of donors and Angel tried not to think about them as she made her way to Romanof's body at the back. She wished there was someplace better hidden where she could do this. Out in the open like this left him so exposed.
Her gaze fell on a nearby body, one of the few covered by a drape. Plucking the drape off the body, she gasped at what she found beneath it.
“What’s wrong?” Romaonf buzzed urgently in her ear.
“No...nothing. Everything’s fine.” The appearance of the donor caught her off guard. A jagged incision running the length of the donor’s torso looked fresh. Blood was still congealing along the stitches.
“Organ donor,” she muttered, realizing what the stitches meant. She walked to another draped body and pulled back the cloth. It was the same. Maybe that was a good thing. She could hide Romanof under a drape. When the Harvesters came to program it, they wouldn't think to look for it under a drape - hopefully.
She looked around for an extra drape, but found none. She'd have to borrow one, but leaving a donor body exposed was sure to be noticed.
"I'm going to cover your body with a drape," she told Romanof. "But you're going to have company under there, okay?"
"Whatever. We're running out of time. Just start the transfer process and get the hell out of here."
“What? No. I’m not leaving you here unprotected.”
“Michels, that wasn’t a request. This room is too busy. We don’t know how long it will take for my life essence to re-assimilate. You can’t just wait here. It’s too risky. Return to the ship. I'll meet you there as soon as I can.”
She had no intention of leaving and by the time he realized she hadn't followed his orders, it would be too late. He would also discover that she wasn’t the boy he thought she was.
“Listen, before we do this, there’s something you should know about me,” she started.
“This is not the time for conversation.”
“I know. It’s just—“
“Later, Michels.”
“Okay, fine.” She took off the robe so she had easier access to her pockets. “I hope this works,” she muttered, removing the transfer disc from her back pocket.
Following Yanur’s instructions, she took the biopod from around her neck and placed it on top of the disc. Some technology, which she didn’t understand, held it there while she centered the whole thing over Romanof’s forehead. Before she pressed the button to start the process, she leaned over to examine the metallic collar still around Romanof’s neck. She looked for a way to remove it and found that it didn’t go all the way around, but just encircled the front half of his throat.
Feeling around the collar with her fingers, she found the outer surface smooth. There seemed to be no obvious locking mechanism or switch. On a whim, she gave it a tug.
It slid off easily in her hand.
Looking at the repulsive device for a moment, she tossed it to the floor.
It was time to start the transfer. Gazing at Romanof’s face, she had an attack of conscience. What if he didn’t survive?
No, he was a survivor and he would make it through this. She couldn't have said how she knew this about him. She just knew it.
She pressed the switch.
At first nothing happened. Then the top of the biopod slowly opened, emitting a slight hissing noise. The pulsating amber light inside the tube began to seep out and gather around Romanof’s body, starting with his head and spreading downward. It reminded Angel of the wispy fog hovering over the ocean’s surface at the cusp of a new day. Romanof’s body lay cocooned in an amber aura for a brief moment, then slowly seemed to absorb the light.
Once it was totally gone, Angel considered the best way to get the “parts” donor onto the same gurney with Romanof. In walking around to study the two bodies from all angles, she noticed a switch at the end of each gurney. When she pressed one, the gurney started to descend. Pressing the other half of the switch caused the gurney to rise.
Maybe moving the body wouldn't be that hard after all.
After raising the nearest donor nearly a meter, she pushed the gurney alongside Romanof’s gurney. Finding a similar switch on Romanof's gurney, she lowered his gurney until he was low enough that she could simply roll the organ donor's body onto Romanof's.
Once she was sure the second body wouldn't fall off, she covered them both with the drape and then adjusted the height to be even with the bodies around them. From across the room, she hoped it would be impossible to tell there were two bodies there.
Then she waited.
The process took a lot longer than she expected and the wait started playing havoc on her nerves. Her mind started imagining all the things that could go wrong, so when she heard the sound of a door opening in the outer room followed by footsteps, she first thought it was her imagination. Then she heard voices.
“I told you there was something wrong.” It sounded like the Harvester who'd asked her to leave. “The real Dr. Haun wouldn’t be down there. If Corporate finds out we have an intruder, don't think I'm going to the Re-cycler alone.”
The voices were drawing closer and Angel knew she was in trouble. Putting on the Harvester robe wasn't going to help her this time.
"The imposter could be hiding anywhere. Be sure to check under every gurney."
Angel looked around for a place to hide but she was surrounded by a room full of lifeless donor bodies - and one empty gurney.
Damn. The minute they saw it, they'd come to investigate. She had to hide it and only one idea came to mind. She began pulling off her clothes, bending close to Romanof’s head as she did. “If you can hear me – lay still. Someone’s coming.”
As soon as she'd shed all her clothes, she wadded them into a bundle with the Harvester's robe and stashed the whole thing under the drape with Romanof. Then she climbed on top of the empty gurney. Feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable, she forced herself to lay flat, just like the other donors in the room.
She shut her eyes when she heard the footsteps getting louder. Straining to catch every noise, she heard the men enter the room and walk down the aisles. So far she’d only heard the two voices. If things got bad, she could take them - maybe.
The footsteps drew closer. Closer. They were so close now.
Please don’t find Romanof. Please don’t find Romanof.
Her silent prayer became her mantra. The footsteps stopped between her and Romanof.
“Hey, take a look at this one,” said a second Harvester whose voice she didn't recognize. “Where's her collar?"
Collar? Then she remembered Romanof’s discarded one.
"Here it is.”
She concentrated on k
eeping her eyes shut and her breathing regular as cold metal slipped around her neck.
"Wait. Look at that," the first Harvester said.
Angel mentally braced herself to spring into action.
"What?"
"The number on the collar. This one belongs down the hall."
"Are you sure? With that dark hair, she doesn't match the profile."
"You want to help me move the gurney? Or would you rather explain to Dr. Haun why, despite the number on the collar, you thought it should stay here?"
When her gurney started to move, Angel forced herself to stay calm, all the while praying they didn't take her far.
They wheeled her through the outer room and through the doors. She heard a change in the pitch of wheels' vibration as they rolled her down the corridor. More quickly than she'd dared to hope, they paused while a door opened and she was soon pushed inside.
Angel imagined them steering her down one row and then up another before her gurney came to a final stop.
"This will do," the first Harvester said. "Let's go back and make sure none of the others were mis-filed."
Angel waited until the sound of their footsteps faded and even then, counted to ten to be safe.
Her first sense that something was horribly wrong came when she tried to open her eyes - and couldn't. Automatically she tried to raise her hand to her face, only it didn't move. When she tried to push herself into a sitting position, nothing happened.
She was paralyzed!
Her thoughts turned immediately to the collar. It was the only explanation for her condition. She had to get it off, but how?
A cry of frustration welled up in her throat where it lodged because she had no way to release it. She knew if she stayed in this room, she was in serious trouble.
Romanof!
When the transfer finished and he awoke, he would see she was missing and look for her.
Her hopes soared, then plummeted. He wouldn’t look. He’d ordered Michels to return to the ship. And even if he suspected that Michels had run into trouble and went looking for the pilot, he’d be looking for a man, not a woman.
Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) Page 8