Выбрать главу

They kept up this brave banter, all the time not know­ing if their friends would survive, not knowing if armed gunmen would burst in upon them at any moment, only knowing that they had been poisoned. They didn't bother to watch the entrances anymore. They were beaten, tired of running, and tired of killing. The sight of the burned Narns in the clinic had convinced Ivanova that enough damage had been done over this Shon'Kar. She wasn't going to contribute to the killing anymore.

It was G'Kar who rolled over suddenly and vomited.

"Hey, watch the furniture," growled Garibaldi.

The Narn stared at him, looking worse than half-a-dozen of the dried corpses hanging on the wall. "Am I still alive?" he croaked.

"I'm afraid so," muttered Ivanova. "No thanks to your friends at the Thenta Ma'Kur."

"Na'Toth?" he asked.

The commander shook her head. "We've been afraid to look but she got the antidote, just like you."

He nodded and crawled over to his noble aide, the woman who saved his neck on a daily basis. He felt her forehead for a pulse, then he slapped her as hard as he could in his weakened condition. Na'Toth stirred and groaned like a drowning person tossing up seawater, then she rolled over to her side. She had already thrown up several times, so all she could produce were dry heaves. Garibaldi massaged her back until they stopped.

"Isn't this touching?" came a snide voice from the pas­sageway.

Ivanova jerked around to see Mi'Ra come strolling into the tomb; she was alone, but she had a PPG rifle pointed at G'Kar's head. Her purple gown, which had looked so stunning early that morning, was burnt and torn to shreds.

"Don't anybody make a sudden move," she cautioned, "or I'll kill both G'Kar and Na'Toth. If you don't pre­vent me from killing G'Kar, I may let the rest of you live."

"You followed me?" muttered Ivanova.

"Of course," said Mi'Ra. "Pa'Ko sent one of his little friends to tell me what he had done, so I waited. I have finally learned patience. Thank you for saving G'Kar's life—saving it for me to take! Now, Na'Toth, crawl away from him. Let me finish it."

"Where is your crew?" asked Ivanova trying desper­ately to keep the conversation going.

"I sent them home. I only needed them to reach this point." Mi'Ra leveled the rifle at the ambassador's spot­ted cranium. "Get away from him, Na'Toth, or you'll die with him!"

G'Kar tried desperately to push his aide away. From the other side of the room came a voice: "Spare him, and I'll clear your father's name!"

The claim came from such an unlikely source that it took everyone a moment to realize that it was Al Vernon who had spoken. The portly man staggered to his feet, and Mi'Ra trained her rifle on him.

"If this is a delaying tactic," she warned, "you will die, too."

Al shook his head so strongly that his entire body shook. "No delaying tactic, my lady, I swear it! Hold your fire, please, I need to get something out of my pocket."

He fumbled in his pants pocket, and Mi'Ra tensed to shoot him if he should produce a weapon. Instead, Al produced a simple data crystal, which he held up for everyone's inspection.

"Inside this data crystal," Al explained breathlessly, "are detailed records of meetings and transactions between General Balashar and a convicted Centauri arms dealer. Court records are also included. In other words, this crystal proves it was the Centauri who sold the weapons to Balashar, not your father! This clears the name of Du'Rog."

"What the hell?" murmured Garibaldi.

Al shrugged. "I told you, I never come to Homeworld without something to bargain with. Although I had hoped to be in a better position."

Her gun never wavering, Mi'Ra stepped forward and grabbed the data crystal from his hand. Al wheezed with laughter. "You can take it from me, fair lady, but it's all encrypted! You won't be able to get at the data. Plus, you need me to authenticate the crystal, to testify where it came from. If you don't have me, they'll think you faked it. No, fair lady, I go with the crystal. All you have to do is to let the others go, and never bother them again."

Al quickly added, "Of course, the ambassador still has to pay the sums that Na'Toth negotiated with your mother."

"Who authorized you to do this?" asked G'Kar in amazement.

Al managed a smile. "A mutual friend of ours from B5. He said that if it wasn't too much trouble, I should save your life. I knew you weren't dead, but I didn't know you were you in disguise. So I didn't know your life was in danger until it was too late! I had hoped to get some money for these Centauri records, but I'll settle for our lives."

"My Shon'Kar..." whispered Mi'Ra, gazing past them at a candle burning into a lump of soot.

"You'll have to give that up," said Ivanova softly. "I think this is what you really want, isn't it? To clear your father's name?"

Na'Toth lifted herself on to one elbow and rasped, "I gave up a Shon'Kar once. They can tell you, it was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and I fought it. But some­times there are bigger matters at stake. Whatever G'Kar has done in the past, he is doing good work on Babylon 5. He can do good work for your family, too, if you let him."

"Let's go to the news agencies," suggested Al. "That will get the truth out the quickest, and I can give them alternate sources for this information, if they want it. Your father's name can be cleared, but only if you spare all of our lives."

The shattered Narn aimed her rifle from one human to another in quick succession. "If this is a trick, no power can save you!"

G'Kar struggled to his knees, holding his stomach. "It is no trick, daughter of Du'Rog. I swear by the bones of our ancestors and the shrine of D'Bok, I will clear your father's name."

The ambassador coughed raggedly and looked as if he would be ill. "Na'Toth and I can't travel, anyway. So we will stay here until you and Mr. Vernon have made your contacts. Send the news agency for me, and I will back up whatever Mr. Vernon tells me. I will not, however, incriminate myself. I intend to return to my life and let you and your family return to yours. Take this path, daughter of Du'Rog, I beg of you. If I have learned one thing from serving on Babylon 5, it is that peace is pos­sible for anyone." The Narn clasped his hands in front of him.

Mi'Ra lowered her PPG rifle and jutted her youthful jaw. "G'Kar, if you do as you promise, with these brave Earthers as your witnesses, then I will disavow my Shon'Kar. If this is a ruse, I will personally disembowel each of you."

Al grinned and bowed regally. "I am your servant, fair Mi'Ra, daughter of Du'Rog. Take me anywhere you wish."

Mi'Ra motioned with her weapon. "Out that passage. The rest of you stay here."

When they were gone, G'Kar slumped to the floor and gripped his stomach. "How low have I fallen," he groaned, "that a Centauri must save my life?"

The rangers from the Rural Division finally arrived, but they were escorting a shuttlecraft from the Universe Today news agency. They installed a new rope ladder at the entrance to the catacombs, and they used it to evac­uate the sick Narns and humans from the odorous passageways. Ivanova remembered walking slowly toward the shuttlecraft, and she noted that Street Jasgon was suddenly crowded with onlookers, all the people who had been invisible earlier that day, probably some of whom had been trying to kill her. They watched her sullenly, as if she were a criminal who had been captured in their midst.

She wasn't sorry to leave the border zone, or Hekba City a few hours later. The Kha'Ri sent their regrets and cancelled their appointment, leaving them free to depart for home. In fact, the Narns found an Earth vessel that was leaving for Babylon 5 that very night. They whisked her and Garibaldi away so fast that it was as if their involvement in this matter was something of an embar­rassment. She supposed it was, as the Blood Oath was not something that was easily explained to outsiders.