Babylon 5 - Blood Oath

by John Vornholt

  "Oh, sorry." Garibaldi looked around with confusion. He was no longer on a moving walkway, but he was sur­rounded by them.

  "We have to branch off here," explained Al Vernon. "There's a nice middle-class neighborhood off that way, and a lower-class neighborhood this way. We're going to the ghetto between them—the border zone."

  "You and Na'Toth go ahead," said Garibaldi. "I want to talk to Ha'Mok while we wait for the commander."

  "We'll wait for you at the other end." Al took Na'Toth's arm and led her toward the middle walkway. "Come, my dear. Let me point out the sights."

  G'Kar scowled impatiently at the security chief. "What do you want, Garibaldi?"

  "I don't know what you're thinking inside that spot­ted skull, but I want you to keep your disguise on. I want you to let us do the talking. We're going to tell them you're alive—don't worry about that—but we're going to tell them you never left B5. And we're going to make it very clear that their clan had better not come to B5 looking for you. You just keep a low profile, all right, Ha'Mok?"

  "Don't tell me what to do," said G'Kar.

  Garibaldi got right in his face. "We've come this far for you, against our better judgment if we ever had any. So for once, you're going to do what I tell you to do! Don't test our friendship too much."

  "Friendship?" asked G'Kar with amazement.

  "I couldn't be this stupid out of a sense of duty," muttered Garibaldi. "It has to be friendship."

  Ivanova stepped off the walkway behind them. "Trouble?" she asked.

  "Just a conversation," answered Garibaldi. "I was just telling Ha'Mok that he should keep out of the way and remember who he is, and who he isn't."

  "But I know the border zone so much better than you," said G'Kar. "I've lived in Hekba City for years."

  "And you've made frequent excursions here," said Ivanova. "I'll remember that, but you're to remember who's in charge of this party. Me."

  The Narn nodded somberly. "All right, I agree. Out of friendship, I will obey your orders. Remember to take the middle walkway." With that, the Narn stepped on to the belt and was whisked away.

  Garibaldi held his stomach and looked at Ivanova. "I'm beginning to think this is a big mistake."

  "Maybe it's the pickled eggs," she suggested. "Let's deliver our message and go home."

  She strode on to the walkway ahead of him, and Garibaldi followed her at a distance. He simply rode the conveyance without trying to walk at the same time. There wasn't anyone traveling in the opposite direction, and he guessed that people in the border zone didn't hold jobs in Hekba City. The belt rumbled down a dreary corridor, where every other lightbulb in the ceiling was burned out. No one had tried to make this part of the tunnel look natural—it simply looked endless and depressing.

  Finally he spotted the others waiting for him in a tum­ble-down alcove at the end of the line. He stepped off the walkway deftly this time and marveled at the pit in which they found themselves. There was some kind of boarded-up stand, and the stairway leading out was covered with dirt and garbage. At the top of the stairs, swirling dust devils were in the process of blowing more dirt down.

  "Welcome to the border zone," said Al. "I suggest we all try to remember where this station is. Things aren't well marked here."

  "How are we going to find the Du'Rog family?" asked Ivanova.

  "We can ask around," said Na'Toth. "They must be known, even in this place."

  "Did they really kill G'Kar?" asked Al, sounding doubtful. "It doesn't seem as if they would have thewherewithal to kill someone on B5, living in this place."

  G'Kar replied, "Never underestimate the power of the Shon'Kar."

  "Come on," said Garibaldi, leading the way up the hill of debris.

  The view at the top of the stairs was even worse than down in the pit. It was truly a slum—a dreary, unending grid of decrepit row houses that made the worst parts of Brooklyn look pretty good. Unlike Hekba City, no effort was made to allow the architecture to fit the natural beauty of the place. Of course, there was no natural beauty—just a rolling, arid plain with decayed buildings and crumbling masonry walls that tried to disrupt the wind.

  Garibaldi would have thought the place was deserted, but he heard the shouts of a domestic quarrel and then a scream. The cop in him wanted to take off toward the sound, but he told himself that he was on a mission, and it didn't include saving the border zone from neglect and apathy. He wished that G'Kar hadn't mentioned Down Below in the same breath as this foul place, but he knew that every society had a bin in which to put its refuse.

  G'Kar stood beside him, turning his disguised cranium into the wind. He squinted his eyes, protecting his brown contact lenses. "It isn't a pretty place to sentence a family, especially when they have done no wrong."

  Ivanova was scouting around the perimeter, her hand on her PPG. Al and Na'Toth were busy trying to read signs and debating which way to go. So Garibaldi low­ered his voice to say to G'Kar, "It's about time you felt some guilt."

  "Oh, I feel guilt, Mr. Garibaldi, about many things. I'm good at feeling it. I'm not so good at knowing what to do about it."

  From the corner of his eye, Garibaldi spotted move­ment. It wasn't aggressive enough to cause him to reach for a grenade, but there was very clearly a person dashing around corners, ducking under steps, and drawing closer to them. Ivanova worked her way toward Garibaldi, and she nodded in the same direction he was looking.

  "Somebody's watching us."

  "I saw him," said Garibaldi. "It's just one."

  Suddenly, their pursuer came charging into the street, whereupon he executed an exuberant flip and landed on bowed, scrawny legs. He bowed comically and folded that action into a somersault, once again bounding to his feet.

  "Have we encountered the natives?" Al asked cheer­fully.

  "He could be useful," said Na'Toth.

  Garibaldi motioned to the boy, whom he judged to be roughly equivalent to a ten-year-old on Earth. "Come on over. We'd like to talk to you."

  The boy charged toward them, all bony elbows and knees, then did a graceful cartwheel and landed beside Na'Toth, gazing into her red eyes. "Hello, fair lady. I am Pa'Ko, the greatest guide in all the border zone! Just tell me where you wish to go, and the streets will open like a magic walkway."

  Na'Toth cocked her head and smiled at the cheeky boy. "Do you know the Du'Rog family? Ka'Het, Mi'Ra, and T'Kog?"

  "Good friends of mine," the boy claimed. "They used to be rich, you know. I think a very bad man stole their money."

  G'Kar cut in. "Can you take us to them?"

  "Are you friendly?" Pa'Ko asked innocently.

  "Yes," said Na'Toth. "We won't do them any harm." She looked at Garibaldi as if trying to get some confir­mation of that.

  "And how much will you pay?" Pa'Ko smiled expec­tantly.

  "I was expecting that," said G'Kar. "Mr. Vernon, do you have any of those coins left I gave you?"

  "Well," muttered Al, "I suppose I do have one or two."

  "Give him two if you've got them."

  Al dug deep into his pockets to produce two black coins, which he tossed into the air. The boy snagged one in each hand and grinned. Pa'Ko's scrawny neck and hairless head made him look anaemic, thought Garibaldi, but he would give anything to have reflexes and coordi­nation like this.

  Pa'Ko set off at a jaunty walk down the middle of the street, making sure that Na'Toth followed closely. It was almost comical to watch Pa'Ko and Al Vernon vying for her attention. Garibaldi had never considered Na'Toth to be all that attractive, but he guessed he was missing something. Mi'Ra, on the other hand, he could imagine fighting over, but he'd be scared to death to win.

  G'Kar walked respectfully behind Na'Toth; although his head was bowed, his eyes flashed back and forth, missing nothing. Ivanova walked a few meters to the left of G'Kar, and she watched him like he was a child about to run off. Garibaldi did his best to keep watch on all of them, but the deserted street and the warm sun were beginning to lull h
im into complacency. He warned him­self that this wasn't the ghost town it seemed, and the sun would soon turn on them. Then he caught a shutter moving as someone peered out at the passing parade.

  Garibaldi did his best to remember their route as they cut between houses, across streets, through archways, and down alleys, but he doubted he could find his way back to the outerwalk without help. That was a depress­ing thought, and it made him feel for the grenades strapped to his chest, just to make sure they were there. Finally, the oddball group of three humans, two Narns, and their young guide reached the top of a small hill, where an old street sign hung creaking in the wind. The sign read "Street V'Tar" and Garibaldi's mind flashed back to the data crystal in which Mi'Ra had recorded her infamous Shon'Kar. She had used that same word—V'Tar—and Garibaldi didn't think it was a coin­cidence. He knew without being told that this forlorn street was where she lived.

  He tried to imagine what it would be like to go from Hekba City to this—permanently. Even though the two places were only a few kilometers apart, they were dif­ferent worlds that bred different creatures. Was Mi'Ra more a product of this place, or those snobbish watering holes for the rich? The answer might determine how suc­cessful they would be in warning her off.

  "Down there," said Pa'Ko, pointing toward a dip in Street V'Tar. "Where the street is red from the running water. Brown door on the right."

  "You aren't coming with us?" asked Na'Toth with sur­prise.

  Pa'Ko waved his hand. "I see them often. I will be, watching for you, fair lady." He kissed her hand, per­formed a cartwheel, landed at a dead run, and kept running. With a childish chuckle, he ducked out of sight. "The ingrate," muttered Al. "Not even a thank you for the coins. We'll never see him again, I daresay."

  "Until we need to find our way back," said Ivanova. She started down the hill and waved them forward. "Let's go."

  "Remember," Garibaldi told G'Kar, "let us do the talk­ing."

  "Very well," grumbled the ambassador. "Tell them, if they cooperate, there will be more money."

  "You really do want to make this right, don't you?" asked Garibaldi.

  The Narn nodded. "Death is not the answer. I found that out. So we must choose life."

  Stepping over the broken candles on the porch, Ivanova reached the brown door first. Garibaldi came up behind her and gave her an encouraging smile. He glanced back to see that Na'Toth, Al, and G'Kar had remained in the street, with G'Kar keeping a respectful distance and his head bowed. Ivanova pressed the chime button. When no sound came, she knocked softly on the dented metal door.

  They heard a bolt being pulled back, and both of them took a deep breath. The door opened, and Mi'Ra stood before them. She was dressed in what appeared to be pur­ple gauze that flowed over her youthful figure. Did it matter that the material was threadbare at the sleeves and hem? Not to Garibaldi it didn't, as he forced his eyes upward to her dazzling smile and ruby eyes. She looked radiant and very pleased to see them.

  "You make me look like a soothsayer," said Mi'Ra with amusement. "I told my family you would come today. Enter, please."

  "There are others in our party," said Ivanova, glanc­ing back at the other three in the street.

  "They are welcome, too," offered the young Narn.

  Al stepped forward importantly. "I'm Al Vernon," he proclaimed, "a visitor to your planet, but I once lived here."

  "A pleasure." Mi'Ra bowed politely.

  Na'Toth climbed the steps after Al, but G'Kar didn't move. "My servant will wait outside," she explained.

  "As you wish," said Mi'Ra through a clenched smile. It was the first sign to Garibaldi that she was struggling a bit being civil. He resolved to watch her during the con­versation, an assignment he was happy to give himself.

  They entered a simple sitting room, which was over­crowded with massive furniture that looked as if it belonged in a palace. Or a museum, it was so tattered and chipped. Perched on a couch like a queen sitting on her throne was an older Narn woman. The matriarch was working hard to appear regal, but Garibaldi could tell she was rusty at it, not like those Narns down in the grotto. They probably snored regally. Pacing the back of the room was a young Narn male who tried to look non­plussed but only succeeded in looking nervous.

  "My mother, Ka'Het," said Mi'Ra smoothly, "and my brother, T'Kog."

  Ivanova handled the introductions for their side—her­self, Garibaldi, Na'Toth, and Al Vernon. She didn't bother to introduce the simple crewman who was listen­ing on the porch. Despite the friendly behavior of the Du'Rog family, nobody offered them anything to eat or drink, or even a place to sit down.

  "We need to establish something right away," said Ivanova. "Did all of you vow the Shon'Kar against G'Kar?"

  "I did," declared Mi'Ra proudly. "That snake deserved it."

  Garibaldi caught the angry glare that passed between Na'Toth and the younger Narn woman, and he hoped they would both be cool.

  Ka'Het laughed nervously. "It was a symbolic sort of gesture. You must understand that G'Kar completely destroyed this family. When I tell you what he did to us, your sympathy will be entirely on our side."

  "They know all about it," said Mi'Ra with a sneer. "They still take his side."

  Ivanova leaned forward. "Look at it from our point of view. It's our job to protect the ambassadors on Babylon 5, which was built specifically so that they could have a neutral place to meet. Your Shon'Kar may be acceptable to Narns, but to us it's a death threat against one of our most important dignitaries."

  "What difference does it make?" asked T'Kog, strid­ing into the center of the conversation. "G'Kar is dead, and the fact is that we didn't have anything to do with it! We weren't anywhere near Babylon 5 when it hap­pened."

  "We know that," answered Garibaldi. He looked pointedly at Ivanova and Na'Toth, making sure they were all in agreement. "We're warning you for the future, because it turns out G'Kar isn't really dead."

  "Ooooh!" shrieked Ka'Het, swooning. T'Kog rushed to her aid, and Garibaldi whirled around to find Mi'Ra staring at him, judging his reaction instead of the other way around. She averted her eyes, but it was too late. Garibaldi had the distinct impression that she knew G'Kar was still alive, and that set off warning bells inside his skull.

  T'Kog fanned his mother and scowled angrily. "If this is some kind of a jest..."

  Garibaldi found himself talking, trying to say anything that would do some good. "It's no jest. We don't know all the details, but we think he has been discovered in a rescue pod, still alive. At any rate, we know you've got­ten some money from his estate, and we know you'll get more if you drop this Shon'Kar."

  Mi'Ra laughed harshly and crossed in front of Garibaldi, fixing him with her blazing red eyes. "My mother and brother are foolish enough to think that money means something. But it doesn't mean anything while my father's reputation is stained. What can Earthforce do about that?"

  "Nothing," admitted Garibaldi, "but I'll tell you one thing Earthforce can do. If you show up on Babylon 5, looking to kill one of our ambassadors, we can slap you into irons, and we can shove you out an airlock in your birthday suit. Whatever the worst thing you can imagine is that's what we're going to do to you. And I'm serious, lady."

  Mi'Ra stopped in front of him and looked him up and down. "I believe you are serious, Mr. Garibaldi. You would like to shove me somewhere in my birthday suit."

  "Mi'Ra!" snapped her mother, making a remarkable recovery. "You stop threatening them. What they've brought us is disturbing news, but we will have to make the best of it. Attaché Na'Toth, you are the ambassador's aide?"

  "I am," answered the Narn.

  "The Earthers said something about more money. If we were to negotiate this amount with you, perhaps you could take the figures back to your superior."

  Na'Toth sighed. "I could. In return, we will want you to disavow the Shon'Kar."

  Mi'Ra was silent, although her jaw worked tensely.

  "We can talk about it," her mother said pleasantly. "Ever
ything is negotiable."

  During the ensuing conversation, Garibaldi backed away from Mi'Ra and opened up his collar. The day was already starting to get warm. While the women nego­tiated, nobody was paying any attention to Al Vernon, so the merchant gave Garibaldi a jaunty wave and wandered out the door. Garibaldi wished he could join him—a little fresh air sounded good about now. He tried not to look at Mi'Ra, because it amused her every time he did.

  Sitting on the porch, G'Kar was startled by the door slamming shut and Al's heavy footsteps. Al smiled at him and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  "I can't believe it," whispered the human. "They actu­ally told that crazy family that G'Kar is still alive! Can you imagine?"

  "But it seems to be working out all right, doesn't it?" asked G'Kar hopefully. "I've been listening, and it sounds as if they've agreed to make peace."

  Al grinned. "All except that luscious daughter of his. She wants dice made out of G'Kar's vertebrae. But it does sound promising, which is fine with me. I was afraid I would have to step in."

  G'Kar laughed derisively. "You could end a Shon'Kar?"

  "You never know how a Shon'Kar will end," observed Al. He patted his ample stomach. "My work is done here—maybe I should return to Hekba City."

  "Come back with us," insisted G'Kar. "I'm feeling in a very magnanimous mood, and we owe you something for everything you've done. Remain with us—1 think we can prevail upon G'Kar's wife to give you something extra for your trouble."

  Al tugged at his sport coat, as if that were his inten­tion all along. "Of course, I wasn't planning to leave just yet." He gazed around. "The street is awfully deserted, isn't it? I mean, people do live here. Have you seen any­thing suspicious?"

  "I haven't seen anything at all," grumbled G'Kar. "But I haven't been looking around. I suppose I should."

  "Let's not make a big deal of it," said Al. "I'll just take a look off to the right here, and you take the left. Like we're biding our time."

  G'Kar whispered, "Do you think this could be some kind of trap?"