"Ha'Mok," wheezed the sick Narn. Ha'Mok, Ha'Mok, Ha'Mok, echoed the voice in Leffler's mind, replayed at various speeds and pitches. What was there about that voice? he wondered.
An identicard clattered to the grimy floor, and Leffler bent down to pick it up. Every motion continued to be magnified in importance, scrutinized down to the last detail. "Thank you," moaned the voice, sounding like it came from inside a cave. He saw the identicard sliding through his terminal like a sailboat slicing across the waves. The little letters danced for a moment then spelled out the message, "ID confirmed."
One last step, Leffler knew. What was it? Oh, yes, his face. His face! But there was no record of his face, even though the white hand swirled around the dingy shack trying to find it. There were only voices.
"You are listed on the roster," a voice roared in his ears. "But I have to see you to make positive identification. Turn over, please." Turn over please. Turn over please. But the figure was as motionless as a stone.
Like a slap to the face, the Narn's words struck him: "I don't wish to vomit all over you! I have a virus... a potent one! It is liquefying my intestines. It would kill a human in a day or two!"
Leffler tried to stagger away, to escape from the faceless danger and the inhuman voice, but the white hand jerked his head around and made him listen again. It would kill a human in a day or two! It would kill a human in a day or two!
Leffler's own intestines didn't feel so good. He lifted his hand to speak into his link, but the confounded slow motion of the dreamworld betrayed him. He felt a horrible darkness descending, and he was unable to move quickly enough to avoid it. His head felt as if it were caught in a vice, and he screamed with terror.
Instantly, the contact on his wrist vanished, and the strange voices floated away on a gentle breeze. As his eyes fluttered open, images became indistinct and blended into the quiltwork of lights in medlab. The first thing he saw distinctly was Talia Winters; her angelic face was troubled as she hurriedly pulled her glove over her naked right hand.
"It'll be okay," he assured her. "I won't feel a thing."
She gave him a friendly smile. "You can rest now."
"Excellent idea," agreed Dr. Franklin, pushing Captain Sheridan, Ms. Winters, and Lou Welch away from the bed. Franklin motioned to a nurse, and the patient felt a sting in his shoulder where she gave him a hypo. A friendly darkness descended, and Leffler was snoring within seconds.
"First, I have some names," Talia Winters told Sheridan and Welch. "Two Narns named Pa'Nar and Ha'Mok. I'm certain they're the ones who hit him. At least, I'm sure the attack occurred in the shack where these two were living."
Welch entered the data on his handheld terminal, and the three of them waited for the results. "Hey," said Welch, "this Pa'Nar guy is listed as a passenger on a transport that's boarding right now! Headed for Earth."
"Go get him," ordered Sheridan. "I'll hold the transport."
As Welch rushed out the door and Sheridan contacted C-and-C, Talia Winters tried to collect her thoughts. Memory wiped clean by a trauma to the head was often the most difficult to probe. It was like trying to resurrect computer files that had been disrupted by a strong magnetic field. There was just no way to fully trust what you found.
"Do Narns sound the same to you, Captain?" she asked.
He gave her a puzzled look. "Sound the same as what?"
"Their speaking voices. Does one Narn sound a lot like another?"
Sheridan shook his head in frustration. "I'm not a good one to ask. Why? Did you recognize one of their voices?"
"I thought so," she answered with a shrug. "That is, a voice reminded me of someone I knew, and it reminded Leffler, too. But I don't think it could be him."
"How do you know? Who are you talking about?"
Talia Winters smiled sheepishly at the captain. "Ambassador G'Kar. But he's dead, isn't he?"
Captain Sheridan stared at her, and she went on, "Officer Leffler remembers talking to a Narn, whose face he didn't see but whose voice sounded like G'Kar. But two Narn voices might sound the same, especially to a human."
"Yes," Sheridan answered thoughtfully. "That is, we saw his personal transport blow up, but we never saw a body. How certain are you of this?"
Talia laughed, shaking her blond hair. "I'm not certain at all. I'm telling you this based on a scan of memory that has been damaged by trauma to the head. I wouldn't give it much credence—it's just an impression I had. But I would ask one thing, Captain—if you find these two Narns, I'd like to be there when you question them."
"Certainly," answered Sheridan. "Thank you for your help."
Talia Winters sighed. "I hope it helps."
In the transport section of the K'sha Na'vas, Michael Garibaldi stared at the hatch, expecting it to open, but the door refused to budge. It must have been ten minutes since they entered hyperspace—he could feel the return of gravity caused by the rapid acceleration yet their hosts hadn't returned. Normally he would enjoy passing the time chatting with Ivanova, but she kept babbling on about Mark Twain.
"I remember hearing about Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn," said Ivanova, "but I don't remember the details. I knew I should have read more Mark Twain and less Dostoevsky."
Garibaldi frowned. "Are you trying to recall a book by Twain, a short story, or one of his essays?"
"I wasn't thinking about Mark Twain at all," admitted Ivanova, "until Londo mentioned it at the memorial service. And now this man quoted Mark Twain."
"The quote Al gave, about reports of his death being greatly exaggerated, is famous. Anybody from North America would be likely to say that, if they were mistakenly accused of being dead. I hate to ask, but what exactly did Londo say about Mark Twain?"
"Only that I would enjoy the service more if I was up on my Mark Twain." She gave Garibaldi a quizzical frown.
"Okay," said the chief. "Let's think about that. What could he mean? The most famous scene from Twain is probably the scene where Tom Sawyer gets his friends to whitewash the picket fence. Then you've got Injun Joe chasing them around the cave, and the scenes with Polly, but I don't know how they relate to any of this. In Huck Finn, there are the scenes along the river, but that doesn't have anything to do with a funeral."
Garibaldi caught his breath. "There is a funeral scene—the one where Tom and Huck watch their own funeral."
"What did you say?" asked Ivanova.
"There's a scene where Tom and Huck watch their own funeral," repeated Garibaldi. He stared at Ivanova. "Was Londo trying to tell you that G'Kar is still alive?"
"I thought I saw him die," the commander whispered. "But the sudden way he left, piloting solo—I've been thinking about how weird that was. You know, if G'Kar was willing to risk a space-walk and had an accomplice to open an airlock for him, he could've put the ship on autopilot and gotten off before it left. But why would G'Kar stage his own death? The data crystal was real, wasn't it?"
"This is too crazy," muttered Garibaldi, rubbing his eyes. "But a man who fears for his life will do crazy things. You know, it seemed awfully easy the way I found that crystal, like he wanted me to find it."
Before Garibaldi could say more, the hatch opened and Captain Vin'Tok strode into the transport section. He was smiling like a cultured host, but the chief wondered what secrets he was hiding in that oversized, spotted cranium. Calm down, Garibaldi told himself; he already knew not to base suppositions on anything Londo said. Just because a couple of people quoted a famous North American author didn't mean anything—it was probably a coincidence. Al Vernon's use of that quote was reasonable considering somebody had just accused him of being dead when he was clearly alive.