Immortal by Bill Clem Page B

marked LAB.
    The sound of voices caused Josh to dart through the nearest door, the one marked CRYO. He hesitated, leaning against the door and held his breath until the voices passed.
    Then he turned and stood in astonishment.

Chapter 50
    Josh Logan took a step inside the semi-darkened room, and felt like he'd stumbled onto the set of a science fiction movie. The room was large and reminded Josh of a hospital laboratory, with the sterile feel of an operating room. Inside were a row of vertical tubes, about seven feet high and four feet in diameter, standing side by side. Josh counted eleven. Sun tanning machines?
    Each tank had a line of copper tubing leading to the back of it. Emblazoned across the face of each tank were the words: CAUTION LIQUID NITROGEN.
    Josh stood motionless under the impact of what he saw. He slowly began to walk around the huge containers. Each container was festooned with a bright metal plate about half way up. Josh read the first one he came to: ASHLEY TINSDALE #44605.
    Tinsdale. Where had he heard that name? It sounded vaguely familiar to him. He made a complete circle around the cylinders, noticing that each had a small glass window near the top. As Josh glanced around for something to stand on, he noticed that each tank had its own ladder attached to the side of it. He went to the first tank and climbed up to the top of the tank.
    An awful weakness spread over him and his legs threatened to give way as he looked in the small observation window of the tank. A young girl's face was staring back at him. She was statue-like and without discernable color. Josh could hear the hiss of the liquid nitrogen being continually pumped into the cylinder.
    Suddenly Josh remembered where he had heard the name. Tinsdale . It was in the paper two weeks prior. The girl had died while on a white water rafting trip in the Grand Canyon. The story went on to say her father was a wealthy developer, who owned practically every mall in the surrounding three states. The article culminated with the statement that burial services were private. Burial services my ass. Obviously, the elder Tinsdale didn't want anyone to know about his affiliation with Aurora.
    Josh climbed down and fixed his gaze across the room. Another group of tanks sat against a far wall. Wrangling in his increasing fear, he walked over to another capsule. He leaned forward and looked at the nameplate: JIM DAVIS #64293
    Climbing the ladder, he peeked in the window, as he had with the other tank. This time, however, a different sight greeted him. A shroud-covered body stood upright in the cylinder. Josh noticed that the tanks on this side of the room didn't have the condensation on them that covered the tanks on the other side. Nor was there any copper tubing running to it. That's odd!
    He laid his hand on the tank. It was room temperature. The other tanks had been ice cold. Probing further, Josh located a row of metal clips on the top that seemed to fasten the lid to the main cylinder. He felt a growing chill inside as he unfastened the first clip. Disquieting images swirled through his mind--unexplained deaths, cryptic medical records, the implications of Hench's research. "I never saw my husband again," Sara Davis had said. That thought alone reminded him that she was only one of many patients who'd complained about the heavy-handedness of Hench and his refusal to let the families see their loved ones after they died.
    "Don't move, Logan."
    The other man, a bullet-headed Mexican, grabbed Josh by the arm and pulled him off the cylinder.
    "I'm sure the director will want to see you," he said.
    The men nudged Josh out the doors and down a long corridor.
    "What the hell is going on here?" Josh protested.
    "You wouldn't understand, doctor."
    "I understand you've killed innocent people."
    Josh felt his muscles tighten.
    Before he could react, they stopped in front of a metal door marked:
    DIRECTOR OF OPERATIONS
    The door opened and a figure stepped out, a tall