Ivanova let her attention drift from this futile conversation, and she heard somebody clear his throat. She turned to see a tall Narn male with unfamiliar spots on his head and bland brown eyes. He was dressed in the simple garb of a crewman from the K'sha Na'vas. He smiled at her and put his finger to his lips.
"Do I know you?" she asked, having the distinct feeling that she did, if only from the ship.
Garibaldi leaned toward the Narn and whispered, "Are you crazy?"
Na'Toth stiffened and stared at him. "Yes, he is."
The stranger held out his hand to Ivanova. "The name is Ha'Mok. Please address me as such."
That voice! She blinked at the Narn in amazement. His real name sprang to her lips, but she caught herself before she said it. "You are crazy," she agreed. "What are you doing here?"
"Enjoying shore leave," answered the man who had been G'Kar and was now Ha'Mok. He kept his head bowed as if addressing his betters. "How was the memorial service?"
"Better than you deserved," hissed Na'Toth.
"Why are you here?" Ivanova demanded again.
"Two things. First, the K'sha Na'vas received a delayed transmission from Babylon 5. Captain Sheridan has been trying to reach you." He lowered his voice to add, "The captain is no fool. Perhaps he has found out what I did."
"Can we contact him?" asked Garibaldi.
"Not from here. When we return to the K'sha Na'vas."
"You didn't come here to tell us that," said Ivanova.
"No," admitted G'Kar. "Most importantly, I want to see Da'Kal, my wife. She lives in this city, on the other side of the canyon. I want you to come with me."
"Why?" asked Ivanova.
"You may have to protect me in case she tries to kill me."
"I'm not sure we would," said Ivanova. She rubbed her lips and peered up at the blazing red sun. "Before we get deeper into this mess, we humans need to get something to drink. Where did you say Al went?"
Ivanova pointed to a doorway about twenty meters away. "He said there was a tavern down there, and he went inside as soon as the service was over. We haven't seen him since."
"Who is this Al person?" asked G'Kar. "Can we trust him?"
Ivanova fixed the dead man with a stare. "Can we trust you? We have to wait two full days before meeting with the Kha'Ri. You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
G'Kar shrugged. "I am trying to make amends, but I must have time."
"You can start by buying us some drinks," said Garibaldi, heading for the tavern.
The party of two humans, and two Narns ambled into a doorway that looked no different from any of the others, except for three gashes carved into the wall above the door. After the intense sunlight, the darkness inside the shelter momentarily blinded Ivanova. She could see nothing, but the sounds of laughter and voices convinced her that she was indeed inside a public tavern. Na'Toth and G'Kar brushed past her, apparently having no difficulty with the change in light.
She bumped into a customer and decided to stand still until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Once they had, she saw a low-slung bar against one wall; it seemed to be carved directly from the rock. Stepping closer she saw the bar had deep holes dug into it, from which strange aromas and curlicues of steam rose toward the ceiling. There were no barstools that she could see, but she couldn't miss Al Vernon, who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bar. He was drinking from what appeared to be a bag made out of animal skin.
"Here you are!" he said happily, bounding to his feet. He pointed to a sickly-looking Narn who could only be the proprietor. "These are my friends. They will pay my bill."
"Wait a minute," grumbled Garibaldi. "How much is his bill?"
The proprietor appraised him with cool red eyes that looked like embers about to burn out. "One hundred credits."
"A hundred credits!" snapped Garibaldi. "You should be able to rent a room for that!"
Ivanova swallowed dryly and held out her credit chit. "Give us two more of whatever he's having."
Garibaldi added, "Make mine a Shirley Temple."
The proprietor blinked at him. "Pardon me?"
"No alcohol in mine," answered the chief.
The old Narn nodded and took the card. Then he produced two flat skins and dipped them into separate holes in-the bar. When he brought the skins up, they were plump and dripping with steaming liquid. He handed the pouches to the visitors and processed Ivanova's chit. The skin was sticky, and whatever was inside was highly aromatic. It wasn't a terrible smell but oddly redolent of mincemeat pies, truffles, and English cooking.
"This is crazy," muttered Garibaldi. "When I'm thirsty, I want something cold."
Ivanova replied, "It's a fallacy that something cold quenches thirst better than something hot. In fact, whenever I'm really thirsty, I drink coffee."
"You always drink coffee," countered Garibaldi. Wrinkling his nose, he put the skin to his lips and took a cautious sip. "Hmmm," he said with surprise. "Sort of tastes like mulled wine and beef broth."
Ivanova took a sip, and the warm liquid did indeed taste like a combination of cloves, raisins, and the drippings from a roast. It warmed her inside while the condensing steam cooled her face.
Al Vernon chuckled. "Do you want me to tell you what's in it?"
"No!" Ivanova and Garibaldi answered in unison.
"Listen, Al," said Ivanova, "we fulfilled our part of the bargain and got you here. If we're going to pay your bills, too, then you had better stick with us."
"I told you where I was going," said Al. "When Mr. Garibaldi ran off after that attractive Narn woman, I assumed he would be gone for a while."
Garibaldi lowered his drinking skin and said, "We've got two more days here. What do you know about the border zone?"
"Oh, no," replied the portly human, looking grim. "You aren't planning to go to a border zone, are you?"
"We have to," said Garibaldi. "We have to talk to someone there."
"You don't need a guide, you need a bodyguard." Al took a long swig from his pouch.
Ivanova cleared her throat. "Another Narn from the ship is going with us, so there will be five of us."
"That's too few," said Al. "Let's get the whole crew to go with us."
Ivanova looked at Garibaldi. "Maybe he has a point. If we really want to go traipsing around this planet, we ought to talk to Captain Vin'Tok about having an escort. It might keep us out of trouble."
Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around to see the disguised Narn who was going by the name of Ha'Mok. "I want to attend to that errand we talked about," he said insistently.
To see his wife, recalled the commander. She had no objection to telling people that G'Kar was still alive, and the sooner the better! They might as well start with his poor widow, and Ivanova hoped she would punch him in the stomach, the same way Na'Toth had.
Before she could reply, Al butted in. "Hello, I don't believe we've met. I'm Al Vernon, formerly of Homeworld."
"Ha'Mok," lied the Narn. "Your friends need to come with me. You can stay here."
Al sighed. "I'm afraid, sir, I am currently short of funds, and this establishment won't extend me credit."
G'Kar grabbed the human's pudgy hand and dropped some black coins into it. "That should hold you until we get back."