Cryoburn - Lois McMaster Bujold [102]
Leiber was still woozy when Raven and Roic guided him into the booth and sat him in a chair. Roic took a wall-propping pose against the door. With no bed, the booth wasn't exactly crowded even with the four of them, but its slightly claustrophobic air was more of a feature than a failing, in Miles's view.
"You again!" Leiber said, staring at Miles.
Raven, with a benevolent air, bent to press a hypospray against Leiber's arm.
Leiber jerked. "Fast-penta?" he growled, looking helpless and angry.
"Synergine," Raven soothed. "That headache should clear right up."
Leiber rubbed his arm and scowled, but, after pressing a suspicious hand to his forehead, blinked in surprise and, in a moment more, belief.
So, and when did you ever have fast-penta, that you can tell the difference? Miles added the question to his long list. Miles waved Raven to a chair against the wall, and took one himself at a not-too-looming distance from his subject. Although to loom properly, he supposed he'd have to stand on the chair, which just wouldn't have the same effect. Best to delegate that task to Roic.
"So, Dr. Leiber. We might have saved steps by having this conversation day before yesterday, but I suppose your living room might have been monitored like your comconsole. Maybe it's just as well. Here, I can assure you, we are totally private." Miles smiled toothily. Imperial Auditor, threat or menace? You decide.
Leiber's lips moved, My comconsole! "Dammit, I thought I'd taken care of that. So that's how you traced me?"
"That's how the two gentlemen dressed in the medical kit traced you, I imagine. Armsman Roic, here"-Miles waved his hand; Roic nodded amiably-"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce you two properly earlier-Roic followed them. More or less. And took you away from them. Did you recognize them, by the way?"
"Hans and Oki? Of course. The Gang of Four's pet muscle."
"Highly paid, these coworkers of yours?"
"Oh, yah." Leiber smiled sourly. "And great job security, too."
"As good as yours?"
"Not as far as I know. Lucky for them." Leiber squinted. "Took me away how?"
"Stunner," said Roic.
"That's illegal!"
"No, actually, I have a local permit. Bodyguard, y'know."
Official government bodyguard, in point of fact. Which was as close as Vorlynkin had been able to get to Armsman on the Prefecture's application form. Roic had acquired even odder designations in past ventures, true.
"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" Leiber sat up indignantly; Roic tensed a trifle. "Did you steal Lisa from me?"
"Her cryochamber is safe," said Miles, truthfully. It was still tucked away down the hall.
"Not for long if NewEgypt's onto me!"
"You're safe too, for the moment. We're holed up in an old decommissioned cryofacility on the south side of town, if you want to know. Out of sight, out of mind."
"Not likely," muttered Leiber, subsiding.
"How about this," said Miles. "I'll tell you what I know, and you tell me what I don't know."
"Why should I?"
"We'll come to that. To start with, I really was a Barrayaran delegate to the cryo-conference."
"You're no doctor. Or academic." Leiber frowned. "Prospective patron?"
Not if I can help it. "No, I'm an Imperial Auditor. A high-level investigator for my government. Among my several tasks here is to study the social and legal problems Kibou-daini faces as a result of its deep engagement with cryonics. I shall inevitably be tapped as an advisor to upgrading Barrayar's admittedly-archaic legal codes, to avoid repeating your mistakes, if we can." Granted, that wasn't