Perdido Street Station - China Mieville [191]
Lemuel barked with unpleasant, incredulous laughter.
“Marvellous!” he wondered, derisorily. “You’ve got a vacuum cleaner on your side . . .”
“No, you fucking arse,” yelled Isaac. “Don’t you understand? It’s not alone . . .”
The word alone echoed back and forth around the mephitic brick burrows. Lemuel and Isaac stared at each other. Yagharek drew back a little.
“It’s not alone,” Isaac repeated softly. Behind him, Derkhan nodded in mute accord. “It’s given us directions. It can read and write—that’s how it realized David sold us out, it found his discarded instructions—but it’s not a sophisticated thinker. But it promises that if we go to Griss Twist tomorrow night, we’ll meet something that can explain everything. And that can help us.”
This time, it was us that filled the silence with its reverberating presence. Lemuel shook his head slowly, his face set and cruel.
“Damn, Isaac,” he said quietly. “ ‘We’? ‘Us’? Who the fuck are you talking to? This is nothing to do with me . . .” Derkhan sneered in disgust and turned away. Isaac opened his mouth, dismayed. Lemuel interrupted him. “Look, man. I was in this for the money. I’m a businessman. You paid well. You got my services. You even got a little bit of time free, with Vermishank. I did that for Mr. X. And I’ve got a soft spot for you, ’Zaac. You’ve been straight with me. That’s why I came back down here. Brought a bit of grub, and I’ll show you out of here. But now Vermishank’s dead and your credit’s run dry. I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I’m off. Why in fuck should I go chasing these damn things? Leave it to the militia. There’s nothing for me here . . . Why would I hang around?”
“Leave it to who . . . ?” hissed Derkhan with contempt, but Isaac spoke over her.
“So,” he said slowly. “What now? Hmmm? You think you can go back? Lem, old son, whatever else you might damn well be, you ain’t a stupid man. You think you weren’t seen? You think they don’t know who you are? Godsdamn, man . . . you’re wanted.”
Lemuel glared at him.
“Well, thanks for your concern ’Zaac,” he said, his face twisting. “Tell you what, though—” his voice turned hard “—you may be out of your depth. I, however, have spent my professional life evading the law. Don’t you worry about me, mate. I’ll be cushty.” He did not sound sure.
I’m not telling him anything he doesn’t know, thought Isaac. He just doesn’t want to think about it right now. Isaac shook his head contemptuously.
“Dammit, man, you aren’t thinking straight. There’s a whole godsdamn universe of difference between being a go-between and being a militia-murdering criminal . . . Don’t you get it? They don’t know what you know or don’t know . . . unfortunately for you, old son, you’re implicated. You have to stick with us. You have to see this through. They’re after you, right? And right now, you’re running from them. Better to stay in front, even if you’re running, than fucking well turn round and let them catch up.”
Lemuel stood still in the silence, glowering at Isaac. He said nothing, but neither did he leave.
Isaac took a step towards him.
“Look,” Isaac said. “The other thing is . . . we . . . I . . . need you.” Behind him Derkhan sniffed sulkily and Isaac shot her an irritated glance. “Godspit, Lem . . . you’re our best chance. You know everyone, you’ve got a finger in all the right pies . . .” Isaac raised his hands helplessly. “I can’t see a way out of this. One of those . . . things is after me, the militia can’t help us, they don’t know how to catch the damn things, and anyway, I don’t know if you’re keeping track but those fuckers are hunting us too . . . I can’t see a way, even assuming we get the slake-moths, where I don’t end up dead.” The words chilled him as he spoke them. He talked rapidly, pushed the thoughts away. “But if I keep at it, maybe I can figure one out. And the same goes for you. And without