Na'Toth lifted her spotted cranium and regarded the human with piercing red eyes. "He needn't bother. G'Kar was a Narn, and his murderers were Narn. He brought the Shon'Kar on to himself through his actions. You need feel no guilt, nor do you need to do anything, except to stay out of our affairs. Our society will not punish his murderers if they were fulfilling the Shon'Kar. You must know that if you expect to come with me to Homeworld." Ivanova blinked at the Narn, marveling at how quick she had gotten to the point of the meeting. "You don't mind that Garibaldi and I are going with you?"

"If your purpose is to honor the memory of G'Kar, how could I mind? If your purpose is to deprive me of my Shon'Kar, I mind a great deal. This will not be easy for me, because I will be accused of negligence in let­ting G'Kar die."

"That's hardly fair."

"Fair or not," said the Narn, "an attaché is also a body­guard. That is one reason why my vow of Shon'Kar is so important to me. I am shamed by his murder."

"Now who's feeling guilty?" asked Ivanova. "I am," admitted Na'Toth. The waiter brought their plates of eel, and the two women ate in silence.

In a shanty shack in the depths of Down Below, the dead man washed his face in a shallow pan of grimy water. He had never realized what Pa'Nar had to go through to live down here—he would have to give the man more money.

He took a ragged bit of cloth and dried his prominent chin and brow. This banishment to Down Below would be over mercifully soon, he told himself, and he would be safely aboard the K'sha Na'vas, headed back to Homeworld. He would arrive in disguise and attend to his business with the Du'Rog family, ending it once and for all.