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

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