“Amen to that,” said the chief. “But it’s only four days. I’ll tell them to release your winnings to you, and maybe we can open up the tables for a few hours while they’re in their seminars.”
Londo grinned and narrowed his eyes slyly. “You know, Garibaldi, if these Psi Corps are not allowed to gamble—and they are in charge of everything else—then gambling is the one activity they are dying to do. Why don’t you arrange it, and get some compromising visuals on them. Excellent opportunity here, Garibaldi, for what you might call a little office politics.”
“I’m too tired to blackmail anybody today,” yawned Garibaldi, backing to his door. “But thanks for the idea.”
“I could do it for you,” offered Londo. “Might be a bit of fun.”
“Don’t mess with these people,” Garibaldi warned. “Take that as an order, and a good piece of advice. Humans who are full of themselves—you want to stay away from.”
The Centauri frowned. “What does that mean? ‘Full of themselves’?”
Garibaldi took out his identicard. “Well, they’re people who are pompous, who think the universe revolves around them, who think they’re better than everybody, and deserve special treatment.” He pushed his card into the slot, and the door opened. “Like nobody you would know.”
“I should hope not,” said Londo with mock horror.
Before Garibaldi could seek refuge in his dark cave, his link rang. He rolled his eyes, debating what he would do, although he knew he would answer it. “Garibaldi here.”
“Chief, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a major incident in the casino.”
“Who? What?” he snapped.
“It’s G’Kar. He’s beating the crap out of one of the telepaths. Captain Sheridan just waded in to break it up.”
Londo shouldered past him on his way to the lift. “Tell the telepath I am on my way to help him!”
Chapter 7
The muscle-bound Narn lifted a squirming, black-suited Psi Cop over his head and bounced him off the bar. He rolled into a glass shelf and brought a row of bottles crashing down all around him.
“That is enough!” barked John Sheridan, stepping in front of G’Kar and pushing him back.
“Unhand me, Captain,” snarled the alien, his spotted head pulsating with agitated veins.
“No!” said Sheridan. “This is a public place, and we have guests aboard the station. If you want to fight someone, then how about you and I step outside?”
“Wait, sir!” called Garibaldi, charging into the hushed casino. He pushed his way through the crowd that was pressing around the action.
“G’Kar, what’s the matter with you?” he demanded. Londo peered over the bar at the bloodied Psi Cop and pointed back at G’Kar. “I will help you press charges against this ruffian, if you like.”
The Narn shook his head and got flustered. “Well, it … it was an overpowering feeling I got from him that he wanted to kill me.”
“All you got was a thought?” asked Sheridan.
“It was a very clear threat,” answered G’Kar.
The security chief snapped his fingers and pointed at his staff. “Get a medteam on that man.”
“Already called,” the officer replied.
Garibaldi glared around at the blank-faced telepaths surrounding him. “Were any of you with the wounded man before the fight started?”
A young female Psi Cop stepped forward, the black looking good on her. “Hoffman offered to bet us that he could plant a thought in the Narn’s mind, as a sort of experiment. I don’t know what he mistakenly put there, but the Narn jumped out of his seat and commenced to pulverize him.”
The medteam, led by Dr. Stephen Franklin, rushed into the casino, and this distraction killed the possibility of further interrogation. Captain Sheridan leaned over the bar and noticed that the Psi Cop was bloodied but moving about, even fighting the medics who were waving smelling salts under his nose.
The captain narrowed his eyes at Ambassador G’Kar and was still angry at the Narn for starting this battle. Or did he start it?
“Listen, you hotshots!” called Garibaldi, demanding the attention back. “Even counting all of you, humans are the minority on this station. We also had an incident last night, so be careful!”
“Rest assured, that man will be punished!” crowed a voice from the back. Heads turned as Mr. Bester shouldered his way through the crowd. He peered over the bar at the wounded man with a smile of satisfaction. “He will be stripped of all his rights and duties.” Bester smiled. “After a proper hearing, of course.”
The Psi Cop turned magnanimously to G’Kar. “My dear Ambassador, please don’t allow this incident to spoil your evening. Even telepaths sometimes forget that every gift has a price. Their price is responsibility and discipline. Gambling, abuse of power—these are things we do not tolerate.”
Bester bowed and clicked his heels. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Ambassador G’Kar.”
Londo leaned against the bar and muttered, “Oh, brother.”
But G’Kar smiled and bowed, looking like he was imitating Bester. “Apologies accepted. Communications are our greatest difficulty, I have always said.”
“I hope you’re going to attend the reception tonight,” said Bester.
“Why, yes, I am.”
Dr. Frankin poked his head above the bar and told Sheridan, “He’s sedated. He has a broken wrist and a lot of cuts, but his injuries don’t appear to be serious.”
“Throw him in the brig,” suggested Bester.
Franklin frowned. “I think medlab would be better.”
“Medlab it is,” ordered Sheridan. “With restraints and a guard.”
The doctor nodded, and they lifted the unconscious Psi Cop onto a stretcher and took him out. This gave Captain Sheridan a chance to look around at the strange gathering. Garibaldi looked exasperated and exhausted; Londo was eagerly absorbing a description of the fight from the bartender; and Bester and G’Kar acted like old college chums. Strangest of all, thought the captain, he was surrounded by a roomful of humans who seemed more alien and unpredictable than the aliens on the station.
Sheridan realized he had been quite mad to allow this conference on B5. The longer it went on, the more likely something dreadful would happen. There was just too much tinder, too many matches lying around. He heard a voice in his mind, that same little voice that alerts the captain just before his ship hits an iceberg or an asteroid. The danger, said the voice, was just under the surface, waiting for the right moment to rip them apart.
Garibaldi and Ivanova had tried to warn him, thought the captain, but that didn’t do them much good now. He had pigheadedly plunged ahead and let Psi Corps bring their conference, and all their baggage, right to his doorstep. Their first site had been bombed, as if that shouldn’t be hint enough! Despite all their hard work and dedication, B5 was by design a sieve, a zoo without cages. Whatever was he thinking about?
Well, it was time to make amends and stop depending on his staff to get him out of this mess. “Garibaldi!” he called.
“Yes, sir?” The security chief didn’t bother to salute.
“Go back to your quarters and sleep until you have to get dressed for the reception. I figure that will give you almost three hours.”
“But, sir,” said Garibaldi, “there’s so much going on here …”
Sheridan lifted his hand. “Link, have all calls for Mr. Garibaldi routed to Officer Lou Welch until twenty-hundred hours. He will assume Garibaldi’s duties. Captain Sheridan out.” He looked sternly at Garibaldi. “Before you go, is everything all right for the reception on Blue-16?”
“We’re shutting down the cafe in about an hour, and we’ll reopen with full security.”
“Good,” answered Sheridan. “Tomorrow I want everyone searched who is going in and out of the conference rooms.