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parents living on the Narn homeworld. They are the beneficiaries of her life insurance policy."

G'Leel went to the door of her hotel room. Several Narns stood outside, in a jovial mood. Burell added sound to the image. A brief exchange followed in Narn, and G'Leel left with them.

"Do you speak Narn?" Burell asked.

"No," Galen said.

"You should learn. But until you do, you should at least be able to translate. Isabelle, give him the program."

Isabelle's strong, slender hands came together, and her fingers moved slightly. Galen found he had a message. It was a few words in Narn, and attached was the translation program. He accessed the program, translated the message. I can't speak Narn either, she had written.

He'd spent the journey from Soom studying all they knew of the Shadows, and information that Isabelle and Burell had provided about Zafran 8. He hadn't thought learning Narn would be a priority.

With the translation program, he could have text or conversations translated, with the translation appearing in his mind's eye. It wasn't as good as learning the language, but he hoped it would be enough.

Accessing various probes, Burell followed the Narns down to the lounge. They were a rough-looking group, dressed in dark leathers with weapons openly displayed. They pushed other guests out of the way to make room for themselves at the bar. It looked like they were in for a night of drinking.

Burell swiveled her chair to face Galen and Isabelle. Even with the illusion of health, her face appeared drawn, fatigued. "I have given you all I can. Now it's your job to find the evidence the Circle requires. It's not my place to do more, unless my help is absolutely necessary."

She pressed her palms against the arms of the chair again, shifted her body.
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