Universal Language (5 page)

 

*****

 

Chapter 10

A wave of panic surged through Jalila as the crowd pressed around her.

Though she was relatively safe in the middle of the group of Lexicons from the Garden of Yesterday, she felt the same rising terror that she had experienced in the mob in the ministers' tower. On all sides, the Lexicons were surrounded by hordes of strangers...what seemed like millions of Vox, all moving in the same direction.

As the Lexicons and Jalila followed the flow of Vox along the street, her heart pounded. Already overheated from the heavy cloak the Lexicons had given her to wear, she felt trickles of sweat run down her sides and back.

If not for her guns, she would not have been able to hold on to even the small degree of composure she had left. She patted each of them in turn, as she did every few meters--the rifle slung over her back under the cloak, the handgun nestled in the hip pocket of her jumpsuit uniform. The knife was still in place, too; she could feel the holster in her boot, rubbing her ankle as she walked.

Folcrum walked beside her, his white fur radiant in the morning sunlight. During the entire trip through the tunnels from the Garden of Yesterday to the surface, he had never strayed from her. She wasn't sure if he stayed close out of genuine concern or because he was assigned to guard her...but she took comfort from his presence, especially in the heart of the crowd.

She only wished he would tell her where they were going and what exactly would happen when they got there. She still felt as if she were blindly stumbling forward, reacting to events without being able to anticipate or fully understand them.

After winding through a maze of streets in the heart of the city, the hordes of Vox flowed into a huge plaza, framed on all four sides by sprawling buildings. The expansive structures were see-through like all Vox buildings, multicolored and layered in tiers, their upper levels rimmed in balconies with elaborate balustrades. The base of each building was fronted by grand archways and columns atop broad stairways...all of it transparent, all tinted with pastel colors.

Though the square was filled with Vox, it was nowhere near as packed as the streets had been. Jalila's panic faded a little; she was still worried someone would recognize her as the visitor who'd spoken the forbidden slur, but not so worried about being trampled to death.

"
Here we are
." Folcrum swept a clawed hand around to encompass the busy plaza. "
Speech Center. Heart of our world
'
s languages.

"
All these people are
Lexicons
." Folcrum gazed around at the square's population. "
Every working
L
exicon in the world
...
plus our retired and revised
ones
.
"

"
You don
'
t see this often
," said blonde-furred Giza, on Jalila's other side. "
The last was six years ago
,
but you rarely see a major revision twice in ten years.
"

"
Even without the threat of violence
," said Folcrum, "
it would be an exciting day.
"

Jalila's group passed a crowd engaged in a discussion of pronunciation so spirited that it seemed on the verge of becoming a fistfight. Further on, a spotted brown Vox howled at passersby from a pulpit, protesting proposed changes to a class of multi-tense verbs. A choir at the center of the plaza sang a thesaurus, with different sections--bass, tenor, alto, soprano--singing different strings of words with related meanings. Everywhere, the crowd communicated excitedly in the three Vox language modes--chattering, gesturing, buzzing, and clicking.

Under other circumstances, the plaza would have been paradise to Jalila. As a linguist, she would have loved experiencing such a vibrant, language-focused event on an alien world, humming with the exchange of ideas and the on-the-spot evolution of multilingual syntax.

Unfortunately, she was too preoccupied with life-and-death concerns to enjoy what could have been one of the most exhilarating experiences of her life.

Angling through the crowd, Oric led her and the others to one of the stairways flanking the plaza. Tightening the cloak around her, Jalila followed the Lexicons up several stairs, where they stopped to survey the area.

"
Look
," said Folcrum after a moment. "
That food vendor by the fountain.
"

Peering out from the hood of her cloak, Jalila saw the fountain midway across the plaza. At a cart set up alongside it, two Vox served food to waiting Lexicons. Though they were some distance away, she immediately recognized one of the vendors.

"
Nalo
," said Folcrum. "
His people are positioned around that and three other carts.
"

Jalila saw a second cart parked on the far side of the fountain. The other two carts sat at opposite ends of the plaza, near the main entry points.

Seeing the carts, Jalila understood the Free Speakers' strategy. They had used the carts to transport their arsenal of weapons into Speech Center. Once the shooting started, they would pin the Lexicons between fire from both ends and the middle of the plaza, cutting off their escape.

It would be a bloodbath.

"
Three of us to each cart
." With a clawed finger, Giza counted off threesomes from the group of twelve and pointed toward each trio's target.

Jalila was relieved when he selected Folcrum and Yama to accompany her. She knew Folcrum best of any of them and felt a bond with gagged Yama.

"
You know what you have to do
," said Oric. "
We must go now.
"

The four teams split up and headed for their targets. As Folcrum led Jalila and Yama through the crowd, Jalila nervously checked the gun in her pocket and the rifle on her back.

Her team's target was Nalo himself.

"
Lexicons are more than walking dictionaries
,
Jalila
," Folcrum said as they approached Nalo's cart. "
Watch this.
"

Leaning on the cart's boxy storage compartment, Folcrum addressed brown-furred Nalo. "
Three
fil'chaka," he said pleasantly. "
And what do you have to drink?
"

Nalo looked distracted. "Lucat
and
oob'suela," he said, staring off across the plaza.

"
I would like three
chio vishi," said Folcrum.

"
No
chio vishi," Nalo said irritably. "Lucat
or
oob'suela."

Folcrum nodded. "
Would you please excuse me for a moment?
"

With that, Folcrum turned, threw back his head, and emitted a piercing howl.

All eyes in the vicinity locked on him. All nearby chatter and activity ceased.

"Codamoxsu Voxlo!" Folcrum pointed at Nalo. "Codamoxsu!"

Pieces of what Folcrum had said were familiar, but Jalila didn't recognize the combination and inflection. The closest she could come was "cutting up" or "butchering" the language.

Immediately, Lexicons from all around converged on the cart.

"
Th
is one
mangle
s
our language every time
he
open
s
his
mouth
," said Folcrum. "
Here
,
of all places
,
in Speech Center
,
he
show
s
contempt for our rules!
"

"
I
said nothing wrong!
" Nalo glanced around nervously at the surrounding Lexicons. "
He lies!
"

"
Fellow
Lexicons
and Grammar P
olice
," said Folcrum. "
We must
reed
ucate
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.

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.

"
The overthrow of the great tyrants
." Oric barely paused by a patch of glowing purple blossoms. "
Two thousand years ago.
"

On the fly, Jalila scanned the air he sampled, trying to identify the nature of the signals he was interpreting. Though there were many differences between samples, she could find no factors that varied consistently and predictably, producing patterns that could be associated with coded language.

So how was he doing it?

"
We
'
re getting closer
." Oric took a whiff near a fall of what looked like crimson Spanish moss with a million twinkling gold blossoms laced through it. "
The start of the Age of Science
,
five hundred years ago.
"

He had to be homing in on some characteristic of the floral scents that Jalila was missing...but what? If the secret did not lie in the molecular composition of the scent-producing esters, what other variable could serve as the basis for data storage and retrieval?

It occurred to Jalila that perhaps she should think smaller.

"
Four hundred years ago
," said Oric, a little further along the winding path. "
The Child Wars and Silent Times.
"

Perhaps, as unlikely as it seemed, the key existed at an atomic level...or even subatomic.

Oric led Jalila down an offshoot of the main path that ended in a secluded thicket. He stopped and breathed deeply, then nodded. "
Here we are
.
Three hundred years ago.
"

Pocketing the scanner, Jalila typed on the Voicebox. "
Where does the story begin?
"

Oric drew another breath and let it out slowly. "
On the fourth night of the month of Utan in the year of Tolera Vosh
,
golden orbs came down from the stars
.
They landed near the capital city of Comu and did not open until morning.
"

Jalila typed, and the Voicebox spoke. "
I meant what scent begins the story. Show me the flower that tells you the very beginning.
"

Oric bent down and reached for a white-cupped blossom, like a lily with glittering purple petal tips. "
This one
.
The om radla
,
or year flower.
"

"
When you listen to this flower
," Jalila said through the Voicebox, "
what word or words do you hear?
"

"
I hear the words
'
Tolera Vosh
,'" said Oric. "
'
Year 7430.
'
"

"
Can you find another year flower?
" said Jalila. "
For another year?
"

Wrinkling his furry snout, Oric sniffed. He stepped to one side and touched a blossom that was identical to the first, but with emerald petal tips. "
This one says
'
Culan Vosh
'
and
'
year 7431.
'
"

Crouching, Jalila aimed the scanner at the first year flower, analyzing the invisible ester vapors wafting from the scent glands in its petals. After logging the molecular composition of the vapor, she went further, probing the structures of the atoms that made up the molecules...and the particles that made up the atoms.

Then, Jalila moved to the second year flower pointed out by Oric and performed identical scans, from the molecular level to the subatomic. When the scanner's memory held complete data for the ester molecules of both flowers, Jalila ran a point-by-point comparison of their properties.

There was no difference between the esters of the two flowers at the molecular level. Each was composed of the same number of the same types of atoms in exactly the same formation. However, continued analysis revealed divergence at the subatomic level.

Within the nuclei of otherwise identical atoms, the quark particles that made up the protons and neutrons had unexpected color charges. Whereas protons and neutrons in most ordinary matter contained one quark of each color--red, green, and blue--Jalila found protons and neutrons with two quarks of one color and one of another, or three quarks of the same color. For example, oxygen atoms in the first flower's ester contained protons with two green quarks and one blue quark; otherwise identical atoms from the second flower contained one green quark and two blue quarks.

As hard as it was to believe, it seemed the Vox had not only learned to control the properties of subatomic particles via gardening, but had developed olfactory senses sophisticated enough to detect differences in color charge between quarks.

Just as all data in a computer was reduced to ones and zeroes, the data in the Garden of Yesterday was represented by different combinations of red, green, and blue quarks...a trinary instead of a binary system. By determining which combinations were assigned to which numerical and phonemic values, Jalila could finally tap into the information flowing through the air around her.