stares

The air seal on the first crate hissed open, to reveal a layer clear plastic packing. When the burst of cold steam cleared, the four of us gazed down at a tray of human eyeballs.

No one spoke, and twenty-four blank stares looked up at the roof of the cargo bay and three shocked faces. Ice finally cursed and stepped back, breaking the spell.
“Well.” said Caban. “Well.”
The Doctor turned a dial on the side of the crate, and the tray rose several centimeters to reveal another layer of white, refrigerated blocks beneath.
“Looks like kidneys, maybe some ova,” he said, then turned to the next crate. Caban put out a hand to stop him.
“That’s enough. Put them back.” At his words, Mezaro shrugged and replaced the cover, turning another dial to reseal the crate. He looked entirely nonplussed, though the other men looked as disturbed as I felt. Ice looked, as usual, utterly calm, though it seemed somehow strained. I heard Em clattering in the gridwalks and wondered if she’d seen.
“What are you getting for these?” he asked, and when Ice told him, he shook his head. “I have contacts on Festia that can get you twice that. Easily. They’re fresh.”
“Fresh?” Caban seemed to choke on the words. He seemed unsure what to ask next.
“If Scout can jump us there by tomorrow night, they’ll get premium. Let me call my—"
“You’re a Runner!” I said, stopping before I called him a liar. We all have secrets. To my surprise, Mezaro looked at me with what may have been a sneer, then continued in a matter-of-fact voice.
“No. I’m a doctor. And I am in business with several organizations that trade in this sort of material. They’re brought to me, I package them and distribute them.” Caban made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat, and the Doctor smiled. He was utterly unchanged from the shy young man who worked patiently to repair my own damaged organs, the cheerful and hardworking doctor who fit so easily into our crew. Nothing on his face was any different now than it had been when I first saw him, or when I saw him standing over the bloody body of the man he had killed. Suddenly that particular incident makes sense.

The thing that rings in my mind is his voice saying “They are brought to me”. That’s not “It is brought to me.” He was referring to the “material”, so it is either a grammatical mistake, or an implication that what is brought to him is not organs, it is bodies.
“He’s a butcher” said Ice later. “Hacks folk to pieces and sells them. Wonder if he kills them first.”
Kon grunted.
Em shrugged.
Caban looks lost, but is determined to make the sale to the contacts that hired him.

I can’t help but wonder what I’ll dream of tonight.