"Fellow Lexicons and Grammar Police," said Folcrum. "We must reeducate this misguided soul!"
Nalo tried to open the lid of the cart, but Folcrum leaned on it, holding it down. As the crowd of Lexicons closed in, Nalo tried again to get the cart open.
"Codamoxsu Voxlo!" shouted Folcrum.
All at once, the Lexicons pushed forward, reaching for Nalo.
Yama joined the crowd, but Jalila hung back. Realizing the situation had come to a head, she unsnapped the hip pocket of her uniform and drew the gun.
Swatting aside Folcrum, Nalo flung open the cart lid and swung out a rifle. Folcrum and another Lexicon latched onto the barrel and wrenched it away from him.
Before Nalo could be fully subdued, however, the sound of weapons fire and screams erupted nearby. Some of the Lexicons were distracted and looked toward the source...the food cart on the other side of the fountain, where the effort to thwart the Speakers had hit a snag.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Nalo flung aside the Lexicons who were clutching at him and thrust his hands into the cart. Wrenching out another rifle, he swept it in an arc, spraying the crowd with bullets.
Folcrum and Yama were hit. As Jalila watched, they were jolted by the impact of the shots and dropped to the pavement.
Nalo continued to fire, and Speech Center flew into chaos. Lexicons ran in every direction, screeching and seeking cover.
Raising her gun, Jalila took aim at Nalo. She took a breath to steady herself and pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck Nalo in the shoulder, throwing him back, but he managed to hold onto his rifle. Jalila squeezed the trigger again, but the shot went wide.
In response, Nalo swung his rifle around and launched a spray of bullets in her direction. Jalila would have been hit if not for the panicked Lexicons who crossed her path, taking the shots meant for her.
When Jalila had a clear shot, she fired again, striking Nalo in the chest. With a screech, he jerked backward and plunged down behind the cart.
Jalila charged forward, gun at the ready. Just as she reached the cart, it lurched toward her and toppled over. As she crashed down under it, her rifle was caught beneath her.
The next thing Jalila knew, Nalo was glaring down at her. His bullet wounds bled profusely, but he held onto his rifle and seemed to have enough life left in him to use it.
"Mazeesh," he said hatefully. "It's the right word for you."
Bracing both hands under the edge of the cart, Jalila heaved. In Vox's light gravity, she was able to shove the cart upward. As it struck Nalo in the belly, he doubled over and released his grip on the rifle. The weapon slid across the cart and landed on the pavement beside Jalila.
Grabbing the rifle, Jalila scrambled to her feet and swung the barrel around, directing it at Nalo's head.
As Nalo pushed himself up from the cart, he bared his fangs at her. "Mazeesh," he hissed, getting ready to spring.
Jalila's finger tensed against the trigger. Her heart pounded.
Just as Nalo leaped, she fired the weapon.
*****
Chapter 11
Instead of hitting Nalo's head, the slug blew into his hip. Screeching, he twisted in mid-air and came down short of Jalila, slamming onto the overturned cart.
Jalila reversed the rifle in her grip and swung the butt against Nalo's skull. He twitched a few times before he stopped moving.
But Jalila could see he was still breathing.
Unfortunately, incapacitating him didn't solve all Jalila's problems. The pandemonium in the plaza continued. Jalila heard gunfire and screams of panic and pain from all directions.
And in the midst of the madness, her two Vox allies lay bleeding on the pavement.
Pushing through the torrent of fleeing Vox, Jalila hurried to her teammates and dropped to her knees between them. Yama was bruised and battered, but Jalila found a strong pulse. Folcrum, however, was in terrible shape. As Jalila watched, blood pumped from his gaping chest wound, and his eyes fluttered shut.
Gently, Jalila stroked the soft silver fur of his brow. Folcrum's eyes flickered open, and he smiled up at her.
"Jalila." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "The rest of your secret."
Jalila shook her head, wanting only to relieve his suffering. She removed her cloak, no longer caring if she was identified and attacked, and placed it over him.
Folcrum coughed up blood. As Jalila applied pressure over his wound, he took hold of her wrist. "The Vox people...were not the true mazeesh," he said. "The mazeesh...were the visitors...from the stars."
Jalila frowned. The implications of what he had said were startling.
"Yes." Folcrum nodded weakly. "We...hunted and killed...them. All for the part of them...in here," he tapped the side of his head, "that was said to bestow...fertility."
Coughing spasms wracked his body. When he spoke again, his voice was fainter and more ragged than ever. "The Vox...rewrote history. No one remembers...and there are no records...except the Garden."
It seemed to take everything Folcrum had left to scrape out his last few gasping words. "Perhaps," he said, "the true mazeesh...have returned."
Then, his head lolled to one side, and he breathed his last.
*****
Chapter 12
Jalila wasn't thinking straight as she got to her feet. For a moment, she stood and stared down at the lifeless body of Folcrum, riveted by grief that was surprisingly strong considering how briefly she had known him.
I've lost another one. Like the diplomat on Pyrrhus VII.
Sudden movement tore her attention away from mourning. Looking to one side, she saw two Free Speakers pushing toward her through the crowd. They aimed their rifles right at her, leaving no doubt that she was their target.
Jalila stood her ground, determined to protect injured Yama. Raising her own rifle, she drew a bead on one of the Vox and slid her finger around the trigger.
I won't lose her, too.
Before anyone could fire a shot, however, a stream of fleeing Lexicons darted between Jalila and the Free Speakers. When the Lexicons had passed, the Free Speakers were gone.
Jalila's heart pounded. Convinced the Free Speakers had split up and were sneaking around to outflank her, she kept her rifle at the ready. Scanning the surrounding crowd, she slowly took a step forward.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind.
Jalila reached back, expecting to feel the fur of one of the Free Speakers--and caught her breath.
Cloth. Instead of fur, she felt cloth.
The hands that held her turned her around. For a moment, Jalila was so overcome with emotion that she just gawked. She couldn't believe her eyes.
The cloth was part of a uniform, a jumpsuit like her own...but black, the color of command. Her rescuer was a man with thick brown hair and piercing green eyes.
Bursting into tears, Jalila flung her arms around him.
Major al-Aziz hugged her just as tightly in return. "Jalila," he said. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"
*****
Chapter 13
When the scout barque descended into the square, the shooting stopped. Everyone's attention was drawn to the gleaming silver-skinned craft as it dropped toward the crowd.
With Farouk at the controls, the barque came down decisively. Vox scattered in all directions, clearing a landing site.
It was the second best thing Jalila had seen all day. The best--Major al-Aziz--stood beside her as she watched the barque's approach from a few meters away.
"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," said al-Aziz.
Jalila nodded emphatically.
"Wow," said one of the Vox allies al-Aziz had brought with him. His name was Altis, and he was a Lexicon in training. Folcrum had dispatched him with a team of trainees to rescue al-Aziz and Farouk from the cells where Regent Ieria had imprisoned them. Altis and his group had also saved Jalila's life in Speech Center, tackling the two Free Speakers in the crowd before they could shoot her.
When
the barque touched down, the hatch opened, and Colonel Farouk emerged. Looking around, he met Jalila's gaze...and managed a small smile of relief. On that stoic, stony face of his, it might as well have been the biggest, goofiest grin of all time.
"What's the good word, Colonel?" said al-Aziz.
Farouk's smile vanished. "The invasion fleet has entered orbit." He scrubbed the top of his head, which was studded with stubble after days without shaving. "Squadrons of fighters are launching as we speak."
"I asked for the good word, Farouk," said al-Aziz.
With that, al-Aziz signaled the two Lexicons carrying Yama's stretcher, and they hurried forward. Farouk waved them inside, running a medical scanner over Yama as they hauled her up the ramp into the barque.
al-Aziz and Jalila followed. As soon as Jalila set foot in the familiar surroundings, she felt at ease in a way she hadn't since leaving the barque many hours before.
"See if you can raise the Ibn Battuta, Jalila," said al-Aziz. "They ought to be on their way to the rendezvous point by now."
"The ship is still in orbit," said Farouk.
al-Aziz sighed. "Get me the Ibn Battuta immediately."
At the barque's radio controls, Jalila quickly opened a channel. Though the gag prevented her from announcing when the channel was open, Jalila did the job with a wave.
"Ibn Battuta here," said Sergeant Africanus over the radio link.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sergeant?" snapped al-Aziz. "I thought I told you to leave orbit before the fleet got here."
"I must have misunderstood, sir," said Africanus.
al-Aziz shook his head angrily. "What's your status?"
"Trying to stay out of the invaders' way," said Africanus. "So far, they're not bothering with us."
"How do you rate our chances of making it back in the barque?" said al-Aziz.
"I wouldn't recommend it, sir," said Africanus. "The skies are full of fighters. They're shooting down everything that leaves the ground."
Just then, the roar of passing aircraft shook the barque, confirming the news. Peering through the cockpit window, Jalila glimpsed vapor trails cutting across the red-tinted sky.
al-Aziz cast his eyes upward. "Response to hails?"
"None, sir," said Africanus.
"They don't leave us much choice," said al-Aziz. "I guess we'll have to take matters into our own hands, Farouk."
Farouk didn't look up from treating Yama's injuries. "Meaning what?"
"We're already in the middle of this," said al-Aziz. "Maybe a middleman is what these people need."
"You wish to negotiate," said Farouk as he injected medication into Yama's arm. "Yet the invaders refuse all attempts at communication."
"Meeting face to face could be a different story," said al-Aziz.
"We know nothing about them," said Farouk. "There is no basis for understanding."
At that, Jalila interrupted, clapping her hands for attention. Raising an index finger, she signaled her shipmates to wait. Then, she turned to the Voicebox controls on the barque's radio board.
Overriding the translation function, Jalila set the device to convert keyed text into audio output. Hastily, she typed on the keyboard and triggered the speech synthesizer. Her words emerged from the barque's speakers in a computer-generated male monotone.
"I know about them," said the voice.
"What do you know, Jalila?" said al-Aziz. There was no trace of disappointment on his face when he looked at her now.
Jalila typed again. "I think the invaders are the real mazeesh."
"Mazeesh," said al-Aziz. "That's what started this whole mess."
Jalila typed furiously. "Long ago, visitors from the stars came to Vox. They were hunted and killed for an organ that was said to increase Vox fertility. The general population believes the opposite...that the Vox were the mazeesh, the persecuted ones. Without a written language, there are no history texts to disprove it."
al-Aziz nodded thoughtfully. "So you're saying the real mazeesh have returned for payback."
"For crimes the Vox don't remember committing," Jalila said through the speech synthesizer.
"And you say there's no proof of the true story?" said al-Aziz.
"Maybe," said Jalila. "There's an underground garden. I believe information is stored there in the form of scent signals from cultivated plant life."
"Could you interpret and record the information from these scent signals?" said al-Aziz.
"Possibly," said Jalila. "With a scanner and Voicebox."
al-Aziz rubbed his chin. "I know you've been through a lot, but that information is vital. Can you get it for us?"
Jalila nodded and typed. "If I can find someone to lead me back there."
"The people you came with?" said al-Aziz.
"If any of them are still alive," said Jalila.
al-Aziz stood with his hands on his hips and stared at the floor. "This goes against my better judgment after reuniting the team, but we're going to split up. Sergeant Africanus, have any transports from the fleet touched down? Anything that looks like it might be carrying command personnel?"
"An armored transport with fighter escort is landing as we speak," Africanus said over the Ibn Battuta link. "I'm sending you the coordinates."
al-Aziz watched the data come in and nodded. "The ministry building, where we were first attacked. They're coming for the Vox surrender. That's where Farouk and I are going. We'll get the ball rolling.
"You'll head for the garden, Jalila. As soon as you have the evidence we need, get to the ministry as fast as possible."
Lifting a weapons case from the floor, al-Aziz swung it onto a seat and unlatched it. "And Sergeant Africanus," he said. "Your orders are to move Ibn Battuta out of orbit the instant any of those ships makes a threatening move against her. Understand?"
"Aye, sir," Africanus said briskly.
al-Aziz removed a pistol from the case and handed it to Jalila. "What about our Voiceboxes? Do you have enough data to set them up to translate the Vox spoken language?"
Jalila nodded.
"Great," said al-Aziz. "Prep all handheld Voiceboxes, Jalila. Everybody gets one."
As Jalila set about programming the Voiceboxes, she heard the sound of voices outside the barque. Looking out the cockpit window, she saw Oric and Giza approaching, chattering at Altis and his friends.
Maybe Jalila would be able to complete her mission, after all. Her guides to the Garden of Yesterday were alive and well.
Oric and Giza looked in Jalila's direction, but before she could wave, Farouk thrust a medical scanner in front of her. His face remained as stony as ever as he ran the scanner over the gag on her mouth.
"The gag must be removed surgically," said Farouk, examining the scanner's readouts. "You'll have to wait until we return to the Ibn Battuta."
Jalila nodded.
Farouk scrubbed the stubble on his scalp and turned away. "Good luck with your assignment."
*****
Chapter 14
Jalila felt like throwing the scanner and Voicebox down in the dirt and jumping up and down on them.
It was not the reaction she'd expected after going for so long without the devices...but they weren't providing the quick success she needed. Deciphering the complex system of scent signals in the Garden of Yesterday was proving to be even more difficult than she'd anticipated.
Returning to the Garden had been the easy part. With Oric and Giza as guides, navigating the tunnels had been no problem. Once Jalila had set about her task in the Garden, however, things had gotten tricky. She was starting to wonder if what she'd set out to accomplish was even possible, given the tools at hand.
Her scanner could identify floral scents with great accuracy, pinpointing the composition and prevalence of esters, or scent molecules, in any given liter of air. That information, however, was not enough; the scanner and Voicebox were unable to determine what alphabetical or numerical values had been assigned to specific scents.
&nbs
p; Jalila had tried a number of techniques to crack the code, such as constructing a matrix based on the chemical makeup of the ester molecules. She'd attempted less scientific methods as well, such as arbitrarily assigning phonemes from the Vox language to certain scents and rotating the assignments until a logical pattern emerged.
But nothing had led to a breakthrough. So far, Jalila was unable to unlock the secrets of the Garden.
And with each passing minute, she was becoming more frustrated. She was convinced the information al-Aziz needed was all around her, in the very air she breathed...but she couldn't access it.
"If you know how to listen," Folcrum had told her, "you can hear the history of the world in here."
Obviously, Jalila didn't know how to listen. Folcrum knew, and he was gone.
Of course, there were others who might know, too.
Energized by a new idea, Jalila hurried over to Oric, who had been watching her work. Slipping the scanner into her hip pocket, Jalila entered a message on the Voicebox's keypad. Text appeared on the display, and Jalila touched the control that would convert it to audible speech in the Vox pulmonic language.
"Folcrum knew how to hear the garden talk," said the Voicebox. "Do you?"
Oric nodded and answered. Jalila had learned enough Vox to understand his words before the Voicebox translated them. "I am a good listener."
"Please help me to hear the garden," said Jalila.
"I will do what I can," said Oric.
Jalila typed on the Voicebox's keypad. "I must find the history of the first coming of the Mazeesh. Where do I begin?"
Oric closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Not here," he said. "This section relates to the worldwide plague of five thousand years ago."
Turning, Oric moved along the red dirt path through the garden, stopping every few meters to sample the local fragrances. Jalila followed, fascinated by the ease with which he accomplished what had stymied both the scanner and Voicebox.
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