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They are all from the same language.
    " In fact ," he had said, " every word in that language is considered profane.
    " They say it is the language of the ones who hunted us. We , the Free Speakers , believe otherwise. "
    Growing increasingly impassioned, Nalo had paced and gestured and raised his voice. " We believe it is the tongue of our ancestors. We believe our leaders have suppressed it because it allows for the expression of dangerous ideas. "
    Nalo had stopped pacing and dropped to his haunches before her. " Crastala na neepom ," he had said. " It means ' to be an individual. '
    " Shoshar na yothu . It means ' to follow your heart. ' "
    All the Vox in the chamber had gathered around him then. As Nalo had recited each phrase, they had exuberantly repeated it. " Shoshar na yothu! "
    Nalo had sprung to his feet and whirled to face his supporters. " Tark razeek na ."
    " Tark razeek na! "
    " To dream of something better! " Nalo had said. " Zush na carapata imbolio rivix shanyo! "
    His supporters had repeated the phrase, and he had spun to face Jalila. " To tear down what is broken and replace it! "
    The Free Speakers had cheered riotously, hopping and yipping and hugging with abandon. When the commotion had died down, Nalo had settled to his haunches again, staring intently at Jalila with his black pearl eyes. " These things I have said ... they are called profanity now. It is forbidden to speak them in public.
    " But this is the true language of our people. Soon , it will be heard round the world , from the mouths of every living Vox. "
    Gently, he had reached out and touched her cheek. " Thank you , Jalila . Ija onya sufir brin cozcona. ' You give us hope. ' "
    If Jalila had been able to speak at that moment, she would have used some profanity of her own. As a linguist, she had an extensive repertoire from which to choose.
    Truth be told, under other circumstances, Jalila would have been fascinated by the Free Speakers and their struggle. Language was her passion; she would have been excited to study a suppressed tongue and participate in efforts to resurrect it.
    If she had been asked instead of tricked , she would have gladly done everything in her power to help Nalo. If she had been asked , and if her shipmates had not been endangered. And if a massive alien fleet with heavy weapons and unknown motives was not hours away from orbit.
    Any other time, she would have been thrilled to lend a hand. It was a once in a lifetime experience and would make a stunning paper for the linguistic journals back home.
    But now, she wanted only to tell the Vox to go to hell.
    Her one and only goal at this point was to escape and find Major al-Aziz and the others...if they were still alive. She had been brought into this against her will, and she was determined to use sheer force of will to get out of it.
    Unfortunately, for the moment, she was stuck. Plenty of weapons were available in the cave, but if she snatched one and made a break for it, she would have no place to go but the tunnels. Without a guide, she knew she would end up lost in that maze.
    So she had to wait until someone led her back to the surface. That would be in the morning, according to Nalo, when the Free Speakers made their big move. Jalila didn't know what exactly they had planned...only that they were going to take her along.
    That was when she would have to act--when they emerged on the surface, before they could drag her into some new ordeal. She would feign cooperation, catch them with their guards down, and make a run for it.
    After dinner, Nalo walked over and patted her on the head. " Get some rest , Jalila . We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. "
    Jalila looked up at him and nodded...but all she wanted to do was swat his hand away and punch him in the face for bringing her into this. For making her doubt and hate herself even more. For sending her back to Pyrrhus VII in her heart.
    She swore she would never go back there again.
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