Cryoburn - Lois McMaster Bujold [4]
Miles tried to decide if that last remark would have made any more sense to his normal brain. Perhaps not.
"Where are you trying to get to?" asked the lizard with the young voice, resisting its companion's pull.
"I . . ." don't know, Miles realized. Back was not an option till the drug had cleared his system and he'd garnered some notion of who his enemies were-if he returned to the cryonics conference, assuming it was still going on after all the disruptions, he might just be rushing back into their arms. Home was definitely on the list, and up till yesterday at the top, but then things had grown . . . interesting. Still, if his enemies had just wanted him dead, they'd had plenty of chances. Some hope there . . . "I don't know yet," he confessed.
The elderly butterbug said in disgust, "Then we can't very well send you there, can we? Come on, Jin!"
Miles licked dry lips, or tried to. No, don't leave me! In a smaller voice, he said, "I'm very thirsty. Can you at least tell me where I might find the nearest drinking water?" How long had he been lost underground? The water-clock of his bladder was not reliable-he might well have pissed in a corner to relieve himself somewhere along his random route. His thirst suggested he'd been wandering something between ten hours and twenty, though. He almost hoped for the latter, as it meant the drug should start clearing soon.
The lizard, Jin, said slowly, "I could bring you some."
"No, Jin!"
The lizard jerked its arm back. "You can't tell me what to do, Yani! You're not my parents!" Its voice went jagged on that last.
"Come along. The custodian is waiting to close up!"
Reluctantly, with a backward glance over its brightly-patterned shoulder, the lizard allowed itself to be dragged away up the darkening street.
Miles sank down, spine against the building wall, and sighed in exhaustion and despair. He opened his mouth to the thickening mist, but it did not relieve his thirst. The chill of the pavement and the wall bit through his thin clothing-just his shirt and gray trousers, pockets emptied, his belt also taken. It was going to get colder as night fell. This access road was unlighted. But at least the urban sky would hold a steady apricot glow, better than the endless dark below ground. Miles wondered how cold he would have to grow before he crawled back inside the shelter of that last door. A hell of a lot colder than this. And he hated cold.
He sat there a long time, shivering, listening to the distant city sounds and the faint cries in his head. Was his plague of angels starting to melt back into formless streaks? He could hope. I shouldn't have sat down. His leg muscles were tightening and cramping, and he wasn't at all sure he could stand up again.
He'd thought himself too uncomfortable to doze, but he woke with a start, some unknown time later, to a shy touch on his shoulder. Jin was kneeling at his side, looking a bit less reptilian than before.
"If you want, mister," Jin whispered, "you can come along to my hide-out. I got some water bottles there. Yani won't see you, he's gone to bed."
"That's," Miles gasped, "that sounds great." He struggled to his feet; a firm young grip caught his stumble.
In a whining nimbus of whirling lights, Miles followed the friendly lizard.
Jin checked back over his shoulder to make sure the funny-looking little man, no taller than himself, was still following all right. Even in the dusk it was clear that the druggie was a grownup, and not another kid as Jin had hoped at first glance. He had a grownup voice, his words precise and complicated despite their tired slur and his strange accent, low and rumbly. He moved almost as stiff and slow as old Yani. But when his fleeting smiles lifted the strain from his face it looked oddly kind, in an accustomed way, as if smiles were at home there. Grouchy Yani never smiled.
Jin wondered if the little man had been beaten up, and why. Blood stained his torn trouser knees, and his white shirt bore browning smears. For a plain shirt, it looked pretty fancy,