"Hello, G'Kar," sneered the woman. "Do you recog­nize me? I am Mi'Ra, daughter of Du'Rog. I speak for my mother, Ka'Het, and my brother, T'Kog. We are all that is left of the family you destroyed. Yes, G'Kar, we are beaten, and our titles and lands are gone. Our father is dead, his name disgraced, and his attempt to kill you from the grave was a failure. To our shame, every assas­sin has failed."

Garibaldi grumbled a curse under his breath, because he had never heard of any of these murder attempts. The delectable Narn got really angry at that point and went on to threaten G'Kar's life. She vowed a Shon'Kar against him, as if they didn't have enough of those. Well, thought Garibaldi, this certainly qualified as a personal problem.

When she pulled out a sword and sliced open her own forehead, Garibaldi's jaw flopped open. The viewer blinked off at the same time that his link chimed, Giaribaldi yanked the data crystal from the viewer and put it in his pocket before he answered his link.

"Garibaldi here."

"Welch," came the reply. "We have a problem, sir. Attaché Na'Toth is not in her quarters."

The security chief headed for the door. "All right, find her. In fact, I'm sending out a security alert. Detail all Narns for questioning!"

Ambassador Londo Mollari preened in front of his van­ity mirror, shaping thick strands of black hair into dagger-like spikes. They framed his rotund face like the rays of Proxima Centauri. He touched a manicured fin­ger to his tongue and ran the saliva over an unruly eyebrow, then he adjusted his sash and the medals on his burgundy jacket. He had to look good tonight—it was a holiday on Babylon 5! Summer Solstice, they called it, and he'd had no idea that solar astronomy was so popu­lar on Earth. At a holiday commemorating the sun, what could be better than having one's hair look like the rays of the sun?

Londo chuckled and took a sip of chardonnay wine, which he was drinking in honor of Earth's fiesta. Then he checked his purse to make sure he had his casino tokens, his winnings from the night before. But he did­n't plan to gamble too much, not when the ladies were in a holiday spirit and there were exotic refreshments to sample. His experience with Terran beverages had proven them to be sweetly innocent in taste yet quite intoxicating in effect. A perfect drink with which to woo the ladies, he thought with another chuckle.

Slapping his ample belly and thinking about his won­derful meal of woolly embryo and brain pudding, Londo strode to the door. He began to hum a waltz melody, thinking that he might do some dancing tonight, and he was still humming when he stepped into the corridor. He didn't know there was someone waiting for him until the hand cupped his mouth and the knife slipped under his double chin.

"Quiet," hissed Na'Toth. "Your life depends upon it."

Londo's first instinct was to fight back, but the strong female was thirty years younger than he, and she had the advantage. Still, he couldn't remain quiet. "You fool!" he sputtered through her fingers. "What's the matter with you?"

The knife point pricked his chin, and it felt as if he had cut himself shaving. "Open the door," she whispered.

The Centauri did as he was told, because he didn't wish to be slaughtered in the hallway, for all to see. If he was to die, at least let it be privately and with some dignity. He jabbed his identicard into the lock, and the door slid open.

Na'Toth guided him into his quarters, taking a glance down the hallway to make sure they weren't seen. As soon as the door shut behind them, she pressed the knife closer to his throat.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked again in his peculiar accent. "If you need to go to this much trouble to kill me, just kill me and be done with it!"

She gripped his ornate collar and shook him. "You killed G'Kar, didn't you?"

He laughed at the absurdity of it. "Kill G'Kar? Many times in my dreams, but he's still alive, isn't he?" He stared at her wary eyes. "Do you mean G'Kar is dead?"

She glowered at him. "You don't know anything about it, I suppose."

"I swear I don't! How did it happen?"

"Much more quickly than your death will." Na'Toth pressed the knife into his throat.

There came a door chime, followed by a banging on the door. "Londo!" called Garibaldi. "Are you in there?"

The Centauri grinned at his attacker, showing a pair of sharp canine teeth. "Do you wish to be a fugitive or not?" he whispered to Na'Toth.

She pulled back the knife and stuck it into her sheath. "I can't kill you without proof. But if I ever find any proof..."

"It will be false," claimed Londo. He straightened his jacket and wiped a few beads of blood off his chin. Then he went to his control panel and opened the door.

Garibaldi rushed in, followed by two more security officers clutching PPG rifles, and the chief didn't look surprised to find Na'Toth there.

"I thought you had things to do," he said to the Narn.

"This is one of them," she answered.

Londo cleared his throat and loosened his collar. "I told her, and I'll tell you, Garibaldi—I had nothing to do with G'Kar's murder. In fact, I just found out about it."

"Yes, he was gunned down while walking along the mall," said Garibaldi.

Londo shivered. "Ooooh, disgusting. I hope it didn't spoil your Terran holiday." Then the Centauri thought about what he had just heard. "You mean, the Narn ambassador was shot down in plain view, like a dog, and you don't know who did it? You are slipping, Garibaldi."

The security chief looked sheepish. "That's not really how he died."

"Oh!" said Londo with disappointment. "Now you're playing games with me, hoping to trip me up. It won't work. In this matter, I am as dumb as you are!"

Na'Toth scowled. "If it wasn't you, if it wasn't one of our enemies, then who was it?"

Londo cocked his head, trying not to smile. The idea of never having to see G'Kar's smirking face again had its appeal, but there would be a price for such relief. First, there would be the inevitable suspicion cast upon him and all Centauri, and that would grow worse if no one was arrested. Second, there was bound to be much gnashing of teeth and rattling of swords from the Narn Regime. And finally there would be a new Narn ambas­sador to B5, one who might prove more unpleasant and pig-headed than G'Kar, if that was possible.

The ambassador lowered his head. "Of course, I will relay my condolences to the Narn Regime, but I ought to wait until there has been official confirmation."

G'Kar pointed toward the Centauri's desk. "Check your terminal in a while, and there should be an announcement from Captain Sheridan. He scheduled a memorial service for G'Kar at 18:00 hours tomorrow in the theater on Green-9. Don't expect a lot of details about this—we really don't know what happened. It may have been an accident."

Now Londo permitted himself a smile. "I don't think so. A man like G'Kar always dies badly."

Na'Toth glared at him, and her hand flew to the hilt of her knife. Londo laughed. "Did you really think G'Kar would die of old age, in a soft bed somewhere?"

"No," Na'Toth admitted, letting her hand drop from the hilt of the knife.

"I have sources of information," said Londo Mollari. "Permit me to ask around a bit, purely in the interest of aiding Mr. Garibaldi. Perhaps I can uncover some tidbit of knowledge that has gone unnoticed."

"Just watch yourself," Garibaldi cautioned him. "We don't want to lose any more ambassadors."

That wiped the smile off Londo's face. "Thank you for spoiling my evening."

"Think nothing of it." Garibaldi turned to the Narn attaché. "Na'Toth, I think you had better come with me. I have a few questions for you, based on some new infor­mation."

Na'Toth said nothing to apologize for the unprovoked attack on Londo; in fact, she glared at him for a moment before brushing past the security officers. Garibaldi and his officers followed her out, and the door clamped shut behind them.