Figuring that he might as well summon the shuttle-craft, G'Kar took a small device from his belt. He pressed it, waited for the beep, then began to talk. "This is Ha'Mok to Captain Vin'Tok aboard the K'sha Na'vas. Come in, Captain Vin'Tok aboard the K'sha Na'vas. Respond, please."
When no one answered, he studied the device and shook it in his ear. "Bah!" he muttered. "The Earthers make better links than this." He tried contacting the ship again, and this time he watched the read-outs.
Out of range?
How in the name of the Martyrs was that possible? G'Kar tried to stay calm. He and Vin'Tok had talked about the possibility of the K'sha Na'vas being reassigned, or having to respond to an emergency. Both prospects seemed remote, given the K'sha Na'vas's high position in the fleet. Still, it would seem as if the K'sha Na'vas had left orbit; there was no other logical explanation for them being out of range. Under normal circumstances, G'Kar would have a dozen options, ranging from ordering another shuttlecraft to commandeering quarters in the nearest inn. Unfortunately, the options of a dead man were limited at best.
Troubled, G'Kar put the device away and strode across the swinging bridge. This was a temporary inconvenience, he assured himself. The K'sha Na'vas might have left orbit to refuel, take on supplies, ferry crew members, or any number of errands. It didn't mean he was stranded here.
The soothing darkness on the bridge helped to calm his fears, and G'Kar convinced himself that his disguise was almost foolproof. Especially at night. Even Narns who knew him personally were not likely to pay much attention to him. All he had to do was find his friends, and they could put their heads together and decide how to proceed. The ambassador stepped determinedly off the bridge and headed for the tavern where he had left his comrades.
Laughter and raucous voices poured from the tavern and gave G'Kar a moment's hesitation. Then he reminded himself that Hekba City was a civilized place, without the usual riffraff. He puffed up his chest and entered the dusky tavern, thinking that he would have little difficulty locating three humans in this crowd. Even though he peered into every corner of the establishment, he saw only young Narns, the privileged sons and daughters of the ruling circles. In his youth, he had tried to run with a crowd like this, but he had never been immature enough. He couldn't spend entire evenings frittering away his time, as they could.
"Are you lost?" a young aristocrat asked snidely. "This is no spaceport."
G'Kar started to scowl at him, then he remembered that they weren't seeing G'Kar of the Third Circle—they were seeing a common crewmember, a plebeian. He bowed apologetically and held out his hands.
"I was told there were human passengers in here. Has anyone seen my human passengers?"
"The humans left hours ago!" shouted the proprietor.
"And you will, too," added a customer, "if you know what's good for you!"
Now the raucous laughter was at his expense, but G'Kar kept smiling and bowing. He had spent so much time on Babylon 5 that he had forgotten how lower classes were unwelcome in certain neighborhoods after dark. G'Kar kept bowing politely as he backed his way out of the door, which caused him to run into a large Narn in a black uniform.
"Watch it there!" said a ranger from the Rural Division, shoving G'Kar aside. "Get back to your ship."
"Just leaving," G'Kar assured the ranger, almost scraping the ground with his bow. To demonstrate, he hustled up the walkway toward the rim of the canyon, and the ranger nodded with satisfaction and ducked inside the tavern. G'Kar did an immediate about-face and slipped past the tavern, headed deeper into Hekba Canyon.
Now he was worried. It was not a good sign that both the K'sha Na'vas and his comrades were gone. True, he had lingered much too long in Da'Kal's bed, and he couldn't blame the humans for not waiting hours for him in a slight chill. Plus, the clientele of the tavern had turned rather unpleasant. The humans had probably returned to the ship, G'Kar told himself. Yes, that was a logical explanation to one mystery, but it didn't explain why Na'Toth was gone. Na'Toth should have realized his precarious position and been there waiting for him.
G'Kar halted in the middle of his step. What if they hadn't gone back to the ship? Where would the humans go? To the warmer bowels of the canyon, he imagined, someplace he would not dare to go. They could get away with going down there, because they were off-worlders, but in his crewman's garb he would stand out like a Centauri's hair. Plus, he had no money, having given his emergency funds to Al Vernon. He could imagine his friends and acquaintances dining late in the grotto, by the warmth of the hissing geysers. Perhaps they were making a toast to his departed soul.
He looked up at the stars glimmering over the great slit in the planet, and he wondered what madness had brought him to this point. Alone, penniless, unrecognized in his hometown, and wearing the disguise of a simple crewman—he must have been atoning for some terrible sins. The idea of coming out in the open, revealing all of his secrets, was beginning to appeal to G'Kar. What worse could Narn society do to him than he had done to himself? He was in a netherworld, neither dead nor alive, caught between the clay and the heavens.
G'Kar tried to mould into the shadows along the cliff face, hoping he could avoid the authorities for an entire night. He trusted Na'Toth to eventually return to the tavern, the place they had agreed to meet. Plus, he saw no reason to stray too far from Da'Kal's house in case he needed a genuine sanctuary. He thought about going back there now, but his pride wouldn't let him. If need be, he had his fake identicard and his excuse to be looking for human passengers.
G'Kar settled into a crevice in the rock, hoping the Earthers were passing a better evening than he was.
Outside the grotto, Ivanova, Na'Toth, and Garibaldi stared sullenly at each other. They were tired of discussing what they should do. Na'Toth wanted to return to the tavern to look for G'Kar, and Ivanova wanted to contact Captain Sheridan. Al was still missing in action, so he couldn't be polled. Garibaldi was content to stand near a sputtering little geyser that stunk like a skunk but shot warm steam around his legs. All three of them wanted to contact the K'sha Na'vas, but that didn't seem to be an option. Even if they did contact the K'sha Na'vas, neither human wanted to brave the plunging temperatures at the top of the canyon.
"We can't abandon G'Kar," whispered Na'Toth, reviving her favorite argument.
Ivanova sighed. "We've gone out on plenty of limbs for G'Kar. Maybe it's time we started thinking about our mess instead of G'Kar's mess. We've been out of contact with our superiors for days, we're out of contact with the K'sha Na'vas, and we're aiding and abetting a fraudulent death scheme. Homeworld at night is colder than humans can stand, and we seem to have wandered into a ritzy nightclub section."
Garibaldi cut in. "Plus we lost Al, and he's my responsibility. Which way did you say he went?"
Ivanova sighed. "I told you, he took a right turn out of the grotto, and I lost him when I hit that cold spot."
"Right." Garibaldi's gaze drifted toward a Narn couple who were walking among the bubbling pools, and his gaze followed them into the grotto. Now he understood where G'Kar's overly mannered style came from; it was de rigeur among this class of people. Deeper inside the lush grotto, a colorful blimp moved among the aristocratic Narn, looking completely alien, like a parade flag slicing through a sea of bronze statues.