AN #1: This is a sequel to my previous story, "Out of the Past:
Ghosts". I highly recommend reading it first.
AN #2: Much of the events and some of the characters are based on real people
and occurrences. No offense is intended, and I work from the theory that
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. ;o)
On another note, large sections of this story will likely deal with the field of
forensic anthropology. I try to treat the field and the often unfortunate souls
who are frequently its subjects with utmost respect, but some may find the
nature of the science somewhat disturbing. If so, you may wish to skip this
tale.
NOTE: MILD GRUESOME WARNING
*************************************
November 20, 2001
Yekaterinburg (formerly known as Sverdlosk), Russia
City Morgue
2146 local
(AN: dialogue in ( ) is in Russian.)
("So, have you solved our mystery yet, Mercedes?")
The cheerfully-asked question and sound of the flimsy morgue doors slamming shut
didn't even cause the blonde woman leaning over the surgical-style aluminum
table to look up. Instead, she remained completely focused on her current task-
- carefully and almost reverently laying out and measuring with meticulous care
the bones in front of her.
("Give me a break, Georgi. I've only been here a week, and I only got access
yesterday,") she replied, turning to scribble down another series of
measurements. ("Hell, I'm still not sure why you needed me here in the first
place. This isn't like in '92.")
The dark-haired man moved to sit in a nearby chair, its worn plastic seat
creaking in protest as he sat. ("Is it not enough that I wanted to see the most
beautiful forensic expert in the West?") he said, grinning.
A dirty look was his answer. ("Georgi, you're full of it, and you know it. How
did you ever get clearance for me to work on this?")
He shrugged. ("It is not like last time. This man is no missing Tsar. And
Russia is different. The government is too busy trying to raise money to be
concerned with a foreign scientist working on an unidentified body found in the
middle of nowhere, even if that scientist is an American.")
("And the money I sent as a 'visa fee'?")
("It did not hurt either.")
Mercedes just shook her head, then turned back to her work. A few minutes
later, an electronic beep signaled that the DNA results had been processed.
Georgi looked at it, amazed. ("You have a result already?")
She nodded. ("Grab them for me, will you?")
The Russian retrieved the paper printouts, and studied them with a confused
look. ("There are two sets of results?")
("Yeah. I like to run a known test subject to check the machine, especially
after a long trip like this one, so a put a little bit of me through first,")
she said with a grin, then noted that the confusion on her colleague's face had
increased, and been joined by shock. ("What is it, Georgi?")
Wordlessly, he handed her the papers. Mercedes stripped off the gloves with a
snap before taking the papers and studying them. "That's impossible," she
breathed.
Quickly, she retrieved her reference DNA chart from her case, comparing it to
the one the machine had just spit out. And then, with shaking hands, she looked
at the chart of the unknown skeleton on the table. A chilling silence reigned.
It couldn't be. It was impossible.
Finally, she set the papers down, and in a strangled voice, asked, ("Georgi.
Were there any effects found with him?")
He nodded, and went and retrieved a small paper bag from another table.
Mercedes took it over to a third, empty table, and carefully shook out the
contents. A few bits of cloth, a shred of leather, and a few metal items clanged
to the surface. One in particular caught Mercedes's eye.
With shaking hands and no thought to the gloves she should have been wearing,
she picked up the worn gold band. Taking it in both hands, she held it close
enough to inspect the inside.
And promptly collapsed in a dead faint at the simple words engraved inside:
"Harmon & Patricia - Love Eternal."
TBC...
Ghosts". I highly recommend reading it first.
AN #2: Much of the events and some of the characters are based on real people
and occurrences. No offense is intended, and I work from the theory that
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. ;o)
On another note, large sections of this story will likely deal with the field of
forensic anthropology. I try to treat the field and the often unfortunate souls
who are frequently its subjects with utmost respect, but some may find the
nature of the science somewhat disturbing. If so, you may wish to skip this
tale.
NOTE: MILD GRUESOME WARNING
*************************************
November 20, 2001
Yekaterinburg (formerly known as Sverdlosk), Russia
City Morgue
2146 local
(AN: dialogue in ( ) is in Russian.)
("So, have you solved our mystery yet, Mercedes?")
The cheerfully-asked question and sound of the flimsy morgue doors slamming shut
didn't even cause the blonde woman leaning over the surgical-style aluminum
table to look up. Instead, she remained completely focused on her current task-
- carefully and almost reverently laying out and measuring with meticulous care
the bones in front of her.
("Give me a break, Georgi. I've only been here a week, and I only got access
yesterday,") she replied, turning to scribble down another series of
measurements. ("Hell, I'm still not sure why you needed me here in the first
place. This isn't like in '92.")
The dark-haired man moved to sit in a nearby chair, its worn plastic seat
creaking in protest as he sat. ("Is it not enough that I wanted to see the most
beautiful forensic expert in the West?") he said, grinning.
A dirty look was his answer. ("Georgi, you're full of it, and you know it. How
did you ever get clearance for me to work on this?")
He shrugged. ("It is not like last time. This man is no missing Tsar. And
Russia is different. The government is too busy trying to raise money to be
concerned with a foreign scientist working on an unidentified body found in the
middle of nowhere, even if that scientist is an American.")
("And the money I sent as a 'visa fee'?")
("It did not hurt either.")
Mercedes just shook her head, then turned back to her work. A few minutes
later, an electronic beep signaled that the DNA results had been processed.
Georgi looked at it, amazed. ("You have a result already?")
She nodded. ("Grab them for me, will you?")
The Russian retrieved the paper printouts, and studied them with a confused
look. ("There are two sets of results?")
("Yeah. I like to run a known test subject to check the machine, especially
after a long trip like this one, so a put a little bit of me through first,")
she said with a grin, then noted that the confusion on her colleague's face had
increased, and been joined by shock. ("What is it, Georgi?")
Wordlessly, he handed her the papers. Mercedes stripped off the gloves with a
snap before taking the papers and studying them. "That's impossible," she
breathed.
Quickly, she retrieved her reference DNA chart from her case, comparing it to
the one the machine had just spit out. And then, with shaking hands, she looked
at the chart of the unknown skeleton on the table. A chilling silence reigned.
It couldn't be. It was impossible.
Finally, she set the papers down, and in a strangled voice, asked, ("Georgi.
Were there any effects found with him?")
He nodded, and went and retrieved a small paper bag from another table.
Mercedes took it over to a third, empty table, and carefully shook out the
contents. A few bits of cloth, a shred of leather, and a few metal items clanged
to the surface. One in particular caught Mercedes's eye.
With shaking hands and no thought to the gloves she should have been wearing,
she picked up the worn gold band. Taking it in both hands, she held it close
enough to inspect the inside.
And promptly collapsed in a dead faint at the simple words engraved inside:
"Harmon & Patricia - Love Eternal."
TBC...