"Do I know you?" asked Garibaldi.
"No, sir, you do not," answered the man cheerfully, but that didn't prevent him from grabbing Garibaldi's hand and yanking for all he was worth. "My name is Al Vernon, but I already said that. You're Garibaldi, the security chief of this fine station, am I right?"
"That's no secret," growled the chief. "Listen, I've got to leave the station soon, and I'm busy." He glanced down and saw Talia Winters filing out of the amphitheater with the others, which reminded him of another matter still up in the air—Officer Leffler. "Do you think you could get to the point?" he demanded of his chubby acquaintance.
"It's quite simple, sir." He stood on his tiptoes to whisper to the taller man. "Rumor has it that you're going to the Narn Homeworld aboard the K'sha Na'vas. I'd like to tag along, if I could. I've been trying to get there for six months, and I was hoping you would prevail upon the Narns or Captain Sheridan to get me aboard."
Garibaldi gaped at the man. "You've got a lot of nerve. If you know all of that, then you also know that we're an official delegation. The K'sha Na'vas is not a transport—you can't just buy a ticket on her."
Al Vernon laughed nervously. "That is one reason why I must appeal to you, sir. I've managed to come this far—1 only just arrived—but I find myself short of funds for the journey to Homeworld. However, I've got excellent lines of credit there, plus many business associates who will vouch for me."
"You've been to Homeworld?" asked Garibaldi, sounding doubtful.
"Been there, sir? Why, I lived there for ten years! Have a wife there, I do. Well, she's an ex-wife by now, I should imagine. Darling little thing, except for when she used to get mad at me." He whispered again, "Don't marry a Narn unless you can stand a woman with a temper."
Now Garibaldi was intrigued. "Do they often marry humans?"
"No, not often," admitted Al. "The number of humans living on Homeworld is very small, but a family with too many daughters might see fit to marry one off to a human who was prosperous. Children are out of the question, of course, but sexual relations are not. No, indeedy."
Garibaldi scowled at the man's sly grin, but he was still intrigued. "What kind of business did you do there?"
"Importer of alien technologies," answered Al. "The Narns are crazy for anything from outside the Regime. Toys, kitchen goods, communications..."
"Weapons," suggested Garibaldi.
The man bristled. "Nothing illegal, I can assure you. In fact, had I not been so scrupulous, I would have avoided the business reversals that have kept me away from Narn for so long."
Garibaldi rubbed his chin. "You know, it might not be a bad idea to have a guide along, somebody who knows the territory. We've been summoned to answer questions about G'Kar's death, but we don't want to be held up in a bureaucratic nightmare for days on end."
"I still have some friends in high places," Al assured him. "I could save you considerable time and help you to avoid many pitfalls."
"You would be part of the official delegation—no weapons, no funny business—and you would have to attend a memorial service for G'Kar."
Al Vernon rubbed his chubby hands together. "I would be honored to attend a service for Ambassador G'Kar, whom I met many years ago. What a tragic loss."
"Yeah." The chief tapped his link and spoke into the device. "This is Garibaldi to C-and-C."
"Lieutenant Mitchell on duty," came a sprightly female voice. "Go ahead, Chief."
"I would like the complete records on a human male who's here on the station. He goes by the name of Al Vernon. I also want to know how long he's been on B5, and what his financial status is. And I want to know if there is any record of him ever living on the Narn Homeworld."
Garibaldi smiled at his new friend, who seemed to be sweating just a little bit more. "You only have half-an-hour on this, so get back to me as soon as you can."
"Yes, sir. C-and-C out."
Al Vernon chuckled and tugged at his collar. "You're a thorough man, aren't you, Mr. Garibaldi?"
"I just want to make sure you are who you say you are. I'll talk to the captain and do the best I can. Meet me in forty-three minutes in dock six, and be ready to go."
"Yes, sir!" said Al, snapping to attention and thrusting his stomach out.
Garibaldi winced at the man's eagerness and strode to the steps leading down from the balcony. He didn't feel as if he had made much of a commitment, because if Al Vernon's story didn't check out, he wasn't going anywhere. If by some miracle Al did check out, he could be a valuable ally, a human who knew his way around the Narn Homeworld. Garibaldi wanted to trust Na'Toth to be their guide, but he was afraid that the attaché had her own agenda.
Maybe if he was lucky, thought the chief, there would be a break in the investigation before he had to board K'sha Na'vas. Maybe they'd find Mi'Ra in Down Below, or Leffler would jump up in bed and identify both his assailant and the murderer. Get real, thought Garibaldi, knowing that he would never have a lucky streak like that.
He stopped in the corridor and watched the last of the mourners, who were breaking up into small groups and going about their business. After a moment, the chief tapped his link and said, "Garibaldi to medlab."
"Franklin here," came the response. "Are you checking up on your officer?"
"Yeah, Doc. Has Leffler regained consciousness?"
"I just got back from the service. Let me check." A minute later, Franklin reported back, "Leffler gained consciousness briefly, but he became agitated and we sedated him. His vital signs and EKG look good, but you can't be too careful with head trauma."
"Can we wake him up to be questioned?" asked Garibaldi.
The doctor's tone was cool. "I think he's several hours away from that. Perhaps tomorrow."
"Thanks," said Garibaldi. "I'll be off-station by then, so could you contact Captain Sheridan as soon as Leffler is well enough to be questioned about his attack?"
"I'll make sure. Anything else?"
"Nope. Garibaldi out." He tapped his link again. "Garibaldi to Welch."
"I read you, Chief."
"Any luck down there?" he asked, expecting the worst.
"Afraid not. We've checked every Narn in sight, and we've found a handful with expired identicards. But we've made positive ID on all of them, and none of them are recent arrivals to the station. No one seems to have any connection with the Du'Rog family."
"What about the attack on Leffler? Anyone see anything?"
"No, sir. But then nobody ever sees anything down here."
Garibaldi frowned at the back of his hand. "All right, Lou, call it off for now. I'm off the station in about forty minutes, but there is one thing I want you to follow up on."
"Sure, chief."
"When Leffler comes to, question him. If he can't remember who hit him—and people often lose their memory after a head injury—contact Talia Winters. She can do a scan on him and help us fill in the blanks. She's already agreed to do this, so all you have to do is call her."
"Gotcha. Have a good trip."
"Yeah," said Garibaldi. "Out."
After stopping at his quarters to pick up his duffel bag and rescue his heavy coat from mothballs, Garibaldi headed toward Captain Sheridan's office. He was about ten meters from the captain's door when his link buzzed.
"Garibaldi here!" he snapped at the back of his head.
"This is Lieutenant Mitchell in C-and-C, and I have that data for you on Al Vernon. Want me to upload to your link?"