Angel didn't like the thought of remaining on the planet any longer than absolutely necessary. The Harvesters were one big creep fest, from the Harvesters’ trade in bodies to their desolate, bleak planet and faceless, hooded white robes.
"You'd think a race that deals in body parts wouldn't have such a hang up on cleanliness,” Angel commented, noticing the abundance of decontamination booths all over the place.
Romanof remained quiet.
"We'll get your body back," she assured him, knowing that must be uppermost in his thoughts just now.
"I know."
The left stage door opened, drawing her attention. She watched a cloaked figure appear, leading the first donor forward. It was an alien form that Angel had never seen before and resembled a large, blue blob with elongated arms, or legs, she couldn’t tell which.
"Auction's starting," she told Romanof. "First specimen is on stage."
"The signal hasn't moved, so that's not my body."
"Yeah, I figured," she muttered, watching as the blue blob oozed across the stage and disappeared through the back while another "blob-being" was led out.
“How are they able to walk?” she asked a few minutes later after watching several donors ambulate onto stage and then off again.
“Each donor is wearing a control device in close proximity to their brain. For the humanoids, it will appear as a collar around the neck.”
That gave Angel something new to worry about. “How will I remove yours? I didn’t bring any special equipment.”
“You won’t need it,” Romanof replied. “The collars come off easily.”
Then why hasn’t a donor pulled one off and tried to escape? Then it hit her. With their life essence removed, these donors were a case of light’s on but no one’s home. It made her hate the Harvesters just a little bit more.
The first part of the auction passed in relative ease for Angel, as several different life forms, none of which resembled humans, were escorted across the stage and sold. It wasn’t until the first human donor walked across the stage, a young woman Angel guessed to be in her mid-twenties, that it became uncomfortable to watch. Each successive donor, staring out at the audience with vacuous eyes, was led across the stage, completely nude except for a numbered metallic collar worn around his or her neck. Angel found the sight disturbing.
“Remember Michels, they are beyond feeling and they are beyond our help.”
“I’m fine.”
“I can hear your heart beating. It’s interfering with my reception. Try to relax.”
It was an impossible request. By human standards, the donors passing before her were physical perfection. It was like watching a parade of sex-droids from Delta Sixty-Niner, an adult entertainment space station, so life-like, but not alive.
“You know, Romanof, some of these male donors are pretty good-looking. Maybe you should consider trading up,” she suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
“Excuse me?”
“You know. Forget your old body and take one of these. I guarantee you’ll never have a problem with the ladies with one of these.”
“Thank you, but I like my body the way it is," Romanof replied, his tone terse. "And not that it's any of your business, but I don’t have trouble getting women.”
“I just think from an age standpoint, it might be worth it," she continued, amused at his reaction. "You’ve been in the forces a long time, so there’s probably been a lot of wear and tear on your body and...and...”
“Michels! What’s wrong?”
“Noth...nothing,” she breathed.
“Your heart rate has increased and your body temperature is rising. What’s happening?”
How could she tell him that at that very moment, a male donor, unsurpassed in physical perfection, was being escorted across the stage? He was tall, with arms and legs so well-muscled, they stopped just short of bulging. The ends of his dark brown, almost black, hair brushed the top of his broad shoulders. A fine matte of equally brown-black hair spread in an oval across a broad chest that was mouthwatering. Her eyes followed the washboard abs downward. As heat inflamed her face, she looked up, swallowing hard. Never had she seen a man so perfect that it left her feeling dizzy.
"Michels! Pay attention. The signal is coming from directly ahead, close enough you should see my body."
“What?” It took her a moment to realize what he was telling her. "That's you?”
“Tall, dark hair. There's a scar across my left hip."
Angel's eyes jumped to the donor's left hip and saw the raised line of old scar tissue starting at a point high on his hip and running downward toward his...
"Oh my God.” She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the heat rushing to her face. She'd seen naked men before, of course, but this one was...impressive.
This was Romanof? She mused
Then the thought registered. This
was
Romanof!
Fumbling with the small tablet, she pushed the side button to activate it and then tapped in Romanof's collar number using the small keypad. How much time had she wasted starring at his body, she wondered, disgusted with herself. If she lost this bid because she was daydreaming...
She didn't want to think about it.
As soon as the screen flashed to blue, she saw the numbers scrolling across the screen. Those must be the bids. They were already so much higher than she'd expected.
"Michels, what's our status?"
"Not now," she hissed back, keying in a number significantly higher than the current bids. She wasn't even aware of holding her breath until she saw her bid scroll across the screen. No other numbers followed it as it continued to scroll across the page.
Then a number higher than hers appeared and it was like the flood gates opened to a new, higher level of bidding. New bids appeared, scrolling across the screen so fast, Angel could barely follow them, much less keep pace. She'd known people to purchase small planets and space stations for what was being bid for Romanof's body. It was absurd, really, to spend so much money for one man.
That's when she realized she'd been played. She'd tipped her hand by entering such a large amount too early in the game and now the others were just driving up the price to see how high she'd go.
“What’s your credit limit?” she asked when the current bid jumped to thirty million. "Your body's a hot item."
“Fifty million,” Alex replied tersely. "But I'm sure you can get it for less than that."
Angel decided to cut to the chase and keyed in fifty million credits and hit the button signaling that was her last and final bid. It was far in excess of what any of the previous bodies had sold. Surely it would be enough.
The red light flashed. The bidding was over. Angel held her breath, waiting for the tablet to flash a message indicating she had won. It wasn't until Romanof's body was led from the stage and the tablet remained blank that she felt the cold fingers of dread grab hold of her.
“The bidding must be over," Romanof buzzed in her ear. "The signal is moving away."
"Yeah," she muttered. "It's over."
"Excellent. When you go to finalize the transaction, be sure to tell them you don't want any programming done. Understood?"
"No programming. Got it."
Up on stage, another donor had been brought forward and the bidding resumed. Angel left her seat and walked off to the side, out of the way, to think. Smugglers, traders and white-robed figures milled about, but no one paid attention to her.
“Are you still picking up the tracer signal?” She asked under her breath, an idea forming.
“Vaguely. It’s about nineteen meters south of our current position.”
That would mean the body was still backstage. She exited the fenced area and walked around the perimeter to the back of the building.
“Why?” Romanof asked.
“I’m going to get your body.”
"No. Go pay for it first. You don't want the Harvesters to mistake your intentions," Romanof advised.
"Yeah, about that," she said, slipping around the back of building. "I sort of lost the bid."
She expected him to start yelling, but he didn't. For the longest time, he said nothing and that made her feel worse. She'd asked him to trust her – and she’d failed him.
"Then return to the ship," he finally said. “We’re done here.”
It was like he was giving up.
"No.” She shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "I said I'd get your body and I will."
"You don't understand," he said sharply. "All sales are final. These people are dangerous - and they don't negotiate."
"Which is why I'm going to steal it."
"Absolutely not. What you're suggesting is a suicide mission."
She smiled at his words. "I knew you'd appreciate it."
Chapter 6
Angel waited for Romanof to argue with her, but he remained quiet. It was probably a more effective strategy. In the wake of his silence, she had time to think about what she was planning to do. It was dangerous and - to his point - probably suicidal. And Angel was no hero. She was scared to death and badly wanted to return to the ship. If she told Yanur that she'd given it her best, she knew he'd believe her and they would leave.
Except she hadn't given it her best and Romanof's easy acceptance of his own death had rung a protective chord in her. He was so busy fighting to protect others, she wondered if no one had ever fought to protect him.
Standing in the open lot where several small shuttles were parked, she counted three entrances into the building. She wondered what would happen if she just walked through one and was about to find out when the sound of an approaching shuttle sent her ducking out of sight behind a decontamination unit. As the sound of the engine grew louder, a large ground transport rumbled into the parking area, coming to a stop behind the building.
Angel watched two whited-robed figures climb out of the shuttle and enter the building. Within minutes, a robed figure exited the building steering a bin. Because the face of every robed figure she'd seen was hidden beneath its hood, she couldn't tell if this was one of the two drivers or someone new. It didn't matter.
She watched as he steered the bin to the back of the transport where he pressed a button on the rear panel. Soon, the back doors opened and a ramp lowered to the ground. The robed figure pushed the bin up the ramp and disappeared into the back of the transport. He reappeared moments later, without the bin, and went back into the building.
Unsure what to do, Angel waited. Soon, two robed figures emerged from the building, this time pushing a gurney with a nude female body on top. Angel was close enough to see the metallic collar around the woman's neck indicating she was a donor. The drivers pushed the gurney up the ramp into the back of the transport and then reappeared without it to head back into the building.
A few minutes later, the scene repeated with another gurney and donor. Angel continued to watch as the robed figures loaded the shuttle.
"Status?" Romanof buzzed in her ear.
"I'm outside the building. There's definitely some activity. It looks like they're moving some of the bodies to another location.
“The signal is moving toward us.”
Sure enough, when the robed figures appeared next, the donor on the gurney was the gorgeous Adonis she had bid on earlier. It too disappeared into the back of the transport.
"Damn it. I thought they'd keep your body there until the buyer claimed it. That can't have happened already. Where are they taking you?"
"It doesn't matter. Return to the ship. The mission is over."
"Oh, okay. I'll just leave you behind," she sniped. "Romanof, if the roles were reversed, would you leave me behind?"
"In a heartbeat."
"I guess that makes me a better person than you," she replied.
"Or just more foolish."
Angel opened her mouth to respond, and then promptly shut it when the robed figures stepped from the back of the transport and pressed the rear panel button causing the ramp to lift off the ground and disappear beneath the transport.
She got the sick feeling they were about to drive off. What would she do if they did? Run and jump onto the back of the transport, hoping there was some way to hold on and not be seen?
Watching the Harvesters walk back into the building, she knew she had to act.