"Liz Williams - Empire of Bones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Liz)

"I know that," Jaya said, through clenched teeth. "And I'm grateful, but—" It was a lie. She knew she
should have felt a little more thankful, but Fraser was so patronizing. Every day, Jaya was reminded in
one way or another of how fortunate she had been that the UN medical team had chanced across her
crumpled body and brought her here to this shining new hospital wing. She was safe now, the doctor told
her. Here, she would be cared for, perhaps even healed. Inside a little bubble of the West, sealed off
from the unspeakable chaos of her country, which Jaya called Bharat, and the doctor called India. She
was very lucky, Fraser told her each morning. It was start-ing to sound like a threat.

"And what about other people?" Fraser demanded now. "'This part of the world's seen a dozen new
diseases in the last ten years alone, and I'm damned if I'm going to release an-other one into an
overpopulated area."
There was nothing she could say to that, Jaya thought. How could she tell the doctor that she knew her
illness wasn't contagious, presented no threat to anyone but herself? And how do you know that?
Fraser would ask. Jaya would have to reply: Why, because the voice in my head tells me so. But if she
said that, any chance she'd have of getting out of here would be gone. She felt her hands clench into fists,
the joints stiffened and painful.

"I don't understand why you want to leave," Fraser said plaintively. Jaya could almost hear the unspoken
thought: Why are these people so ungrateful? "You told me that you've spent the last few years
scavenging for medical waste on the dumps, ever since you were widowed. What kind of a life is that?"

The life of a jackal, hunting the edge of sickness, where life wears thin. The voice echoed in her
head, a little wonderingly, as though the notion was new to it. For the thousandth time, f aya asked the
voice: What are you? But there was no reply.

"Mrs. Nihalani!" Fraser said, sharply. "You're looking very tired. I think we'd better get you back to bed,
hadn't we?" She took Jaya firmly by the arm. For a crazy moment, Jaya won-dered what the reaction
would be if she turned to the doctor and told her: Sorry, can't stay. I've got a voice in my head and a
revolution to run.

Well, that would really put the cat among the pigeons, to use Fraser's favorite phrase. The truth was one
luxury Jaya couldn't afford. How could she tell the doctor who she really was? There had been a time,
after all, when a photo of her face adorned every wall from Mumbai to Calcutta. It was a miracle that she
hadn't been recognized already; she supposed she had the unwelcome transformations of the illness to
thank for that. If Fraser realized that she was harboring a terrorist, Jaya's life would be over. The
government wouldn't imprison her this time. They would send the butcher-prince after her. She would
rather the sickness took her.

But then she felt her knees beginning to tremble, a reaction she always had if she stood still for too long.
Scowling with frustration, she let the doctor lead her back to bed.

"Tranquilizers," Fraser said, holding out die little capsules. The look on her face brooked no argument. "I
think we've had quite enough excitement for one day, don't you?"

She stood over Jaya, watching like a hawk. Jaya mumbled her thanks and reached shakily toward the
water jug. The doctor's gaze flickered for an instant, and that was all the time Jaya needed to palm the
pills and slip them under the pillow. She swallowed, and Fraser looked pleased.

"There. Now, no more nonsense. I'll be back later, to run a few more tests. You have a nice sleep."