Free Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) by Robin T. Popp Page A

corridor through which she’d just emerged was one-way, exit only. To her right, about a half-block away, the heavily guarded entrance to the control tower was visible. She studied the area, committing the location to memory. When the time came, she wanted to know how to find the airfield again.
    “Where to?” Angel asked softly.
    “I don’t know. I’m not getting a clear signal. There may be too much interference from the tower. Start walking and I’ll let you know if I pick up the signal.”
    Remembering from the vid-screen map that the main market square was just off to her right, Angel headed that way, along with a large number of the new arrivals. As she walked, she grew uncomfortably warm. Looking around for a more shaded path to the square, she noticed a total absence of trees. In fact, there was no plant life to be found anywhere. No trees, no grass, no flowers. Nothing.
    “How does a planet survive without plant life?” She mumbled.
    “I think the answer is, it doesn’t,” Romanof answered in her ear. “My scan of the planet indicates that it’s dying.”
    Angel wondered if the Harvesters were doing anything to save their world and how stealing beings from other planets could possibly be a part of that plan.
    “I think we’re at the market square,” she whispered to Romanof a few minutes later when she reached a street lined with shops and teaming with traders. “Are you picking up your body’s signal?”
    “No.”
    “Any suggestions?” She started down one side, gazing into the booths and shops she passed.
    “Just walk around and try to look interested. But don’t buy anything.”
    “I’ll try to resist.” Angel pushed aside the beaded entrance to the first shop she came to and froze.
    “What's going on?" Romanof's voice buzzed in her ear. "Your pulse is racing."
    Angel tried to calm herself as she stared at the rows of perfectly preserved bodies standing on shelves around the room in grotesque mimicry of dolls in a doll shop. "I just walked into a body shop. It's filled with Earthlings, Althusians, Felinians, Solbians - almost every known species is here.” She paused. “I think they're all dead.”
    The bodies, standing side-by-side, lined the walls, their eyes staring vacantly ahead.
    Then one blinked.
    "Oh my God. Romanof, they're still alive." She was horrified.
    "It’s okay, Michels.” Romanof’s warm voice was calm above the furious pounding of her heart. “Don’t let anyone see you’re upset.”
    “There’re just so many of them,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize...” Her words faltered and she couldn’t go on.
    “I know. But the worst is over for them. Remember, these are only the shells Now, tell me what you see.”
    Obediently, she tried to detach her emotions, to focus on the mission. A bit mechanically, she described the barely clothed bodies in front of her.
    “Males, humanoid, approximate ages between mid-forties and fifties, healthy but not what I would consider athletic.”
    “All of them?”
    Angel scanned the walls. “Yes.”
    “Okay. You can leave. My body is not among these.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Wrong profile.”
    She had no clue what he meant by that, but rather than ask, she left the shop and continued down the street. “You want me to try the next shop?”
    “Yes, let me...wait...there! I’ve got a signal. It’s about 750 meters north-northeast.”
    Angel looked around. From her current location, north-northeast would be back behind the next street where she noticed a group of traders now heading.
    She followed them and soon found herself on a path leading between two shops to an area that looked like an outdoor theater. Rows of chairs faced an empty stage, which was attached to a small building. Low fencing surrounded the entire seating area and the only entrance was through a registration area.
    Once again, Angel found herself waiting in line.
    “Standard of credit?” The robed figure asked when she reached the