Read Online Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) by Robin T. Popp - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robin T. Popp
Tags: General Fiction
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don’t attract the most trustworthy clients.”
Angel shut off the engines. “What now?”
“Time to go shopping.”
“So soon?” She felt an unwelcome tremor of apprehension. She had reconciled herself to going out among the Harvesters, but what was the rush?
“I’ve been monitoring local transmissions. It’s about mid-morning here and the business district is just opening. The ship we followed arrived just before sun-up, so the bodies on board are likely to be sold this morning - while they're still fresh. I don't want to take the chance of missing my body when it goes up for sale."
“How am I going to know which one is yours? I don’t know what you look like,” she pointed out.
“Not a problem,” Romanof informed her. “You'll take me along in the CHB. We’ll establish communication via a concealed comm-link, which you’ll wear. The ship will track my body’s signal and transmit its location relative to the CHB. I’ll tell you when we’ve located it. All you have to do is purchase it."
Angel gave Yanur a weak smile. "Gee, it sounds so easy."
Neither man seemed to notice her sarcasm. They were all business.
“Yanur, you’ll stay on board and monitor transmissions.” He paused. "At the first sign of trouble, take off. Type in the command “Go Home” and the ship will transfer enough credits to the bank to ensure you receive departure clearance and release the stasis field. The ship will then return automatically to Earth. Same thing if we’re not back in sixty hours."
“I won’t leave without you,” the older man protested.
“If we’re not back in sixty hours, then we’re not coming back. Ever.”
The proclamation made Yanur visibly shudder - and did nothing to reassure Angel.
Five minutes later, Angel was standing just inside the hatch, the CHB hanging around her neck and the transfer unit, a small, flat disc, in her pocket. Yanur, being about her size, had loaned her a pair of his dark pants and a shirt more in keeping with the image of a black market trader than the uni-fit suit she’d been wearing.
She’d found a black vest in the closet that helped further mask her figure because female couriers were rare and drew notice and the less attention she drew to herself, the better. She'd ripped the back out of one of Romanof's larger shirts and wrapped the cloth around her head to cover it, tying it in the back as did most deep space traders.
Her final accessory, her own addition, was a small hand laser strapped around her lower arm, just under the cover of her sleeve. It was her personal version of a security blanket.
“Are you okay?” Yanur joined her in the hatch, his eyes offering a sympathetic look.
I’m going out, virtually alone, on a planet inhabited by a blood-thirsty race of aliens in order to retrieve the body of a man whose life essence is hanging around my neck.
“Sure, I’m good. Never better. Let's do this!” Okay, that last part sounded a bit over the top and had Yanur giving her a quizzical look.
Just then she felt a vibration in her ear followed by Romanof's voice. “Time to go.”
It sounded a lot like it had in the ship and she wondered if it might really be his actual voice. A part of her could hardly wait to check out his body to see if it matched the sexy voice, though with her luck, he probably looked more like Yanur.
Yanur gave her shoulder a final squeeze and then, opening the hatch, he stood aside as she walked through.
“Be careful,” he said, once she'd stepped outside. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t dare with Romanof able to hear everything.
Angel gave what she hoped was a smile, but probably just made her look like she was in pain. “I will,” she said with a reassurance far greater than she felt and waited while Yanur shut the hatch door.
The landing field was nothing more than an open stretch of barren ground; a flat surface broken intermittently by giant stasis towers standing sentry duty over a field of
Angel shut off the engines. “What now?”
“Time to go shopping.”
“So soon?” She felt an unwelcome tremor of apprehension. She had reconciled herself to going out among the Harvesters, but what was the rush?
“I’ve been monitoring local transmissions. It’s about mid-morning here and the business district is just opening. The ship we followed arrived just before sun-up, so the bodies on board are likely to be sold this morning - while they're still fresh. I don't want to take the chance of missing my body when it goes up for sale."
“How am I going to know which one is yours? I don’t know what you look like,” she pointed out.
“Not a problem,” Romanof informed her. “You'll take me along in the CHB. We’ll establish communication via a concealed comm-link, which you’ll wear. The ship will track my body’s signal and transmit its location relative to the CHB. I’ll tell you when we’ve located it. All you have to do is purchase it."
Angel gave Yanur a weak smile. "Gee, it sounds so easy."
Neither man seemed to notice her sarcasm. They were all business.
“Yanur, you’ll stay on board and monitor transmissions.” He paused. "At the first sign of trouble, take off. Type in the command “Go Home” and the ship will transfer enough credits to the bank to ensure you receive departure clearance and release the stasis field. The ship will then return automatically to Earth. Same thing if we’re not back in sixty hours."
“I won’t leave without you,” the older man protested.
“If we’re not back in sixty hours, then we’re not coming back. Ever.”
The proclamation made Yanur visibly shudder - and did nothing to reassure Angel.
Five minutes later, Angel was standing just inside the hatch, the CHB hanging around her neck and the transfer unit, a small, flat disc, in her pocket. Yanur, being about her size, had loaned her a pair of his dark pants and a shirt more in keeping with the image of a black market trader than the uni-fit suit she’d been wearing.
She’d found a black vest in the closet that helped further mask her figure because female couriers were rare and drew notice and the less attention she drew to herself, the better. She'd ripped the back out of one of Romanof's larger shirts and wrapped the cloth around her head to cover it, tying it in the back as did most deep space traders.
Her final accessory, her own addition, was a small hand laser strapped around her lower arm, just under the cover of her sleeve. It was her personal version of a security blanket.
“Are you okay?” Yanur joined her in the hatch, his eyes offering a sympathetic look.
I’m going out, virtually alone, on a planet inhabited by a blood-thirsty race of aliens in order to retrieve the body of a man whose life essence is hanging around my neck.
“Sure, I’m good. Never better. Let's do this!” Okay, that last part sounded a bit over the top and had Yanur giving her a quizzical look.
Just then she felt a vibration in her ear followed by Romanof's voice. “Time to go.”
It sounded a lot like it had in the ship and she wondered if it might really be his actual voice. A part of her could hardly wait to check out his body to see if it matched the sexy voice, though with her luck, he probably looked more like Yanur.
Yanur gave her shoulder a final squeeze and then, opening the hatch, he stood aside as she walked through.
“Be careful,” he said, once she'd stepped outside. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t dare with Romanof able to hear everything.
Angel gave what she hoped was a smile, but probably just made her look like she was in pain. “I will,” she said with a reassurance far greater than she felt and waited while Yanur shut the hatch door.
The landing field was nothing more than an open stretch of barren ground; a flat surface broken intermittently by giant stasis towers standing sentry duty over a field of
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