Cryoburn - Lois McMaster Bujold [105]
"What plan?"
"To rescue Lisa." Leiber's eyes brightened, and he met Miles's gaze for almost the first time. "It's what's kept me going for the past year and a half." His voice lowered, beseeching. "I had to keep my job with NewEgypt in order to have access to her cryochamber, do you see? I realized it practically right away. Originally, I figured to save enough money to rescue them all, Kang and Khosla and Lisa, ship all three cryochambers secretly to Escobar for revival there. But it cost a lot more than I thought it would. Time was drawing on, I thought the Four were finally dropping their guard on me a bit, so I revised the plan to take just Lisa, alone. Take her to Escobar, make the charges against NewEgypt and the whole corrupt system from there, where we'd be safe."
"You've thought about this a lot, I see," said Miles neutrally, and pressed his hand to his lips to prevent the escape of any premature editorials.
Leiber's expression grew almost exalted. "It would have worked! We could have been safe, together. We wouldn't even have had to come back to Kibou, if we didn't want. With my credentials, I could have found a job, supported us both."
A slight, indignant disturbance of the curtain, Miles saw out of the corner of his eye. He carefully didn't turn his head that way.
Leiber cast a speculative look at Raven. "Maybe even a place like the Durona Group." His gaze grew more urgent. "Maybe, if you people could help me, it still could still work out-"
Leiber's heroic visions were abruptly interrupted by the curtain being yanked back, and Madame Sato pounding on the glass and yelling something, alas made unintelligible by the barrier. Miles pointed helpfully to his wristcom.
Leiber nearly fell off his chair. "Lisa!" he cried, whether gladly or in terror Miles wasn't sure.
Madame Sato apparently didn't get the message about the wristcom, because she clenched her fists and whirled to dodge out her booth door, instead. Raven lurched up to intercept her, although only to hastily make her don a filtering mask before their own booth door slammed open-Roic had prudently moved out of the way.
"Seiichiro Leiber, you moron!" cried Madame Sato, which was approximately what Miles had guessed she'd been trying to say, since he'd been hard-pressed not to say it himself. "What were you thinking? You were going to kidnap me, take me off-planet, and abandon my children? And trap me there, with no money to get home?"
"No, no!" said Leiber, rising hastily and turning his hands out in pleading. "It wasn't like that! Wasn't going to be like that!"
It had been going to be exactly like that, in Leiber's mind, Miles guessed. A princely rescue, with Leiber in the starring role, and the happily-ever-after, if not planned, at least much wished upon. Had Snow White in her glass coffin ever had a vote? Or a voice?
"Lisa, I know this was all my fault! I was going to make it right, I swear!"
Behind her mask, Miles thought Madame Sato was sputtering, almost beyond words. He could see her point. She snarled, "Make it right? Make it worse!"
Raven put in, "You know, upsetting and stressing a new revive is not good for their immune system. Or any other system."
Some milder exercise than towering rage was indicated, certainly. Strokes were another real possibility in the more fragile revives, Miles dimly recalled. Interested as he was in what more might be squeezed out of Leiber, it was time to intervene.
"Well, his plan is certainly thwarted now," Miles soothed her. "We'll have to see if we can't come up with something rather better." He jumped up and dragged Raven's chair around. "Please, Madame Sato,