Cryoburn - Lois McMaster Bujold [74]
"Ready," said Raven.
Roic tapped the button on the unlocking device; to his relief, the drawer lock opened easily. He slid the long drawer out like opening some dreadful filing cabinet.
Inside was another female figure, also in its caul, which also frosted swiftly. Roic frowned to see that the plastic wrappings weren't quite identical-these seemed to be browner and reinforced with some sort of netting. But, bracing himself, he slid his hands under and lifted her out. Even with the gloves, she seemed to suck the warmth from him in a swift tide. He set her gently on the floor, Raven checked the name tag attached to the outside of the wrappings, and he and Raven between them lifted her replacement into the drawer. The drawer slid shut with a smooth click.
M'lord's hand light flickered at the corridor corner, and he peered around; Roic waved all's-well, and he nodded and ducked away again. By the time Roic and Raven inserted their prize into the bag and sealed it up again, the lights flashed back on. Roic reached up and carefully unsealed the unlocking device, and hid it back in m'lord's kit. He then began re-stacking concealing boxes, wondering how soon a tech crew would arrive to check out their brief power failure.
M'lord returned, and murmured, "Go, go." His eyes seemed as bright as any of the indicator lights, and Roic realized how much he was enjoying this caper. I'm glad one of us is. Raven seemed as amiable as ever, as if he indulged in this sort of chicanery every day, which Roic knew very well he did not. Roic swallowed and prepared to sprint as the hum of lift tube doors and the echo of voices drifted up the hall that radiated from the central stack, but they turned onto the outer ring before any shouts of Hey, you there! could find them.
A short stroll, and they were back at the underground double doors. M'lord paused to lock them again, and call Johannes on his wristcom. The lieutenant was opening the rear of the lift van as they arrived outside. The pallet-load of "supplies" disappeared soundlessly within. Roic still didn't breathe easily till the van turned out the gates and joined the flow of afternoon traffic.
M'lord checked his wristcom. "Sixteen minutes," he said, in a satisfied tone.
Raven had taken the front seat again with Johannes, which made all kinds of sense since the pair of them were by far the most normal-looking, by local standards. Johannes drove sedately but not too sedately, just as instructed. With the back seats folded down to make a cargo space, Roic crouched opposite Madame Sato's body bag from m'lord, alert to reach out and prevent it shifting should Johannes make any sudden turns. Roic had been assured that the cryo-solution and protective ointments kept cryo-corpses slightly pliable, not brittle, and that despite their temperature they wouldn't shatter like an ice cube thrown to the pavement at an accidental blow. But still.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, which Roic broke at last, low-voiced: "All this makes me think about Sergeant Taura. All these other folks got to die in some hope for their future, why not her? We were all right there at the Durona clinic, everything was in place for it, it wouldn't have cost much . . ."
Taura was one of the mercs from m'lord's old ImpSec covert ops days, before the needle-grenade and cryorevival damage had put him out of that business for good. Like Raven and the rest of the