Praise for Shielder
“Catherine Spangler has created an unforgettable world of chaos, revenge, redemption, and passion, set among the stars. Shielder is a captivating tale that you won’t want to put down…a fast-paced, action-packed romance that will leave you wanting more. Ms. Spangler is a new star on the romance horizon.”
—Compuserve Romance Reviews
“Boldly alive! A future full of danger, tempered with passion. Shielder is remarkable in is intensity…fast and furious! ”
—Literary Times
“Extraordinary futuristic novel. Romantic and suspenseful. Catherine Spangler’s Shielder is the best…Not only is it extremely well written, but the plot is fresh, complex, and very unusual.”
—Jana L. Perskie
“Intriguing, imaginative, and HOT. Catherine Spangler takes us to a new dimension in Shielder.”
—Kathy Baker, Waldenbooks
Shielder
Shielder Series, Book One
By
Catherine Spangler
Shielder
Shielder Series, Book One
Cover art by Croco Designs
Edited by Lorelei Logsdon
Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting
Copyright 1999, 2014 by Catherine Spangler
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
ISBN: 978-0-9860602-7-4
Dedication
For James, my wonderful and loving husband. Your unwavering faith and support
over the years made this book possible. Too much!
And for Diane, Jennifer, and Linda, the other three “Musketeers”. Your vision and
encouragement helped create the reality. Thank you.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
Connect with Catherine
Catherine’s Books
Excerpt from Shadower
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Only one object adorned the pitifully small grave. A toy. A pretend laser gun, crudely fashioned from binea wood.
Once again, the spirit of death showed no compassion, no discrimination in choosing its prey. The venom of the Orana virus had performed the evil purpose the Controllers intended. Their latest victim was a young child, barely four seasons old.
She did not care! She could not care….
Feelings, emotions, were something Nessa had buried deep inside, eons ago. Yet, if she felt anything—anything at all—it would be for the children, the ones who had not yet come to despise her.
Sinking into a crouch, she rested her head against the safety barrier separating the living from those who had passed into lethe. The damp wind plastered wisps of her hair against her cheek. Her leg throbbed in protest against the pressure and the dampness. She ignored the pain, as she had every day these last ten seasons.
No time to dwell on her grievous shortcomings, not when the future of her entire race lay at stake. The Controllers had created a weapon more horrible, more devious than any fusion cannon or photon torpedo: a deadly virus, capable of breaching and destroying a Shielder's natural mind barrier, which was their only protection against the Controllers.
Nessa pushed upright, stretching to find relief from the aching stiffness. Shivering, she hugged her worn tunic closer to her thin body. She limped away from the burial grounds and into the main compound, territory normally forbidden to her.
Outside the assembly hall entrance she paused, gathering her courage. She already knew why the Council had convened the meeting inside—and what must be done. She turned for another look at the barren terrain that was both her home and her prison. If the Council accepted her offer, she might never again see the distant mountains, or the ever-present haze drifting around the rock formations.
Taking a fortifying breath, Nessa entered the assembly. Built within a massive cave, the hall was large enough to hold every citizen of the Shielder colony. Even the press and heat of so many bodies couldn't completely dispel the cool dampness pervasive to all the caves and dwellings in the colony. The dim lighting from the solar lanterns added little in the way of comfort or warmth.
Fortunately, the entrance opened at the rear of the hall, so no one noticed her presence. At the far end, the Council members sat upon a raised dais around a massive half-circle of stone. The Council head, Captain Ranul san Mars, stood explaining the crisis. Nessa slipped to the side of the crowd, where she could observe her father speaking.
"Our situation is critical. Five more colonists have been infected. We can delay no longer. We must take a sample of the Orana virus to our laboratory at Santerra. It's the only Shielder facility capable of developing an antidote," Captain san Mars told the gathering. "And there's another problem. With the Controllers' agents scanning most interstellar space vehicles, the virus must be transported via a live host to prevent detection."
The crowd reacted audibly as his meaning sank in. The virus would be carried within the volunteer's body. Preferably someone dispensable, Nessa thought.
Someone such as herself.
"The person must be able to man a star-class ship," Commander Jarek san Ranul added. "Only a star class is capable of the journey."
Nessa drank in the sight of her brother, pride momentarily dimming her inner turmoil. Jarek displayed the calm, controlled assurance befitting a future Council head, the position he would inherit from their father. He represented everything she would never be.
"Do we have any volunteers?" Captain san Mars scanned the faces of the Shielders grouped around the hall. They shifted their feet nervously, shaking their heads and shrugging.
Elder Gabe san Ardon stepped forward. "I'll go. My fighting skills are waning and I'm an old man. Let me carry the virus."
Murmurs of protest swept the room. Everyone respected the elder, a knowl
edgeable and skillful battle tactician. Most certainly they would prefer Nessa's alternative. Fear surged through her, followed by a flare of determination. No matter how disfigured she might be, no matter how flawed, she was still a Shielder, sworn enemy of the Controllers. She would never be allowed into combat against them, but she could still contribute to the cause. Resolute, she shoved her way to the front of the crowd.
"Don't sacrifice someone of value. Send me instead."
Startled gasps of outrage and horror filled the room, as the crowd around her hastily parted and pressed back a safe distance. Nessa ignored them, but Ranul's icy, dispassionate gaze pierced her bolstered bravado.
"You know you are not allowed here," he stated coldly. "Get out, or I will have you removed."
Not just her father's callous words, but also his granite expression, wrenched Nessa deep inside. No love, no warmth, no sign of concern—of any feeling at all—for his only daughter, showed on his face. Sometimes she thought even hatred would be preferable to this frigid indifference.
She almost forgot her purpose here, tormented by the unanswered litany rising from her soul. Spirit of Being, why me? She pushed aside the futile question. Adrenaline pounded through her body, but she managed to meet Ranul's glare evenly. "You have no other use for me, Captain."
"Aye, you are right about that. Not only are you useless to this colony, but your presence only upsets its members." Ranul glowered accusingly at Jarek.
Mutterings of agreement rose around Nessa. No need to put Ranul's thoughts into words. She shouldn't be alive to plague the colony, partaking of their pitifully few resources—and wouldn't be, if not for Jarek.
Clenching her hands tightly at her side, she drew herself up to her slight height. "Then let me carry the virus to Santerra."
"Foolishness!" Elder Gabe scoffed. "The girl's not right in the head, we all know that. She couldn't possibly pilot a ship."
"Gabe's right," Mara, a female soldier, agreed. "Possessed as she is, she probably couldn't get to Santerra, much less communicate with the technicians there."
"She's crazy, that's what she is."
"Get her out of here before she jinxes us."
Derisive opinions echoed around the hall. Through it all, Nessa forced herself to stand quietly, to give no outward sign of recognition to the barbs. She'd heard them many times before.
With an angry slash of his arm, Ranul silenced the protestors. "Enough! It's agreed we can't let a simpleminded girl who knows nothing about starships carry the virus to Santerra. Nessa! Leave now."
"I know how to pilot a starship. I've flown one many times." Nessa turned toward her brother. "Tell them, Jarek."
All eyes focused on Jarek, who shook his head warningly at Nessa. "Her offer is unacceptable. I'm one of your best pilots. I will go."
She knew he wanted to protect her, as he had for so long now. As he had when the members of the colony voted to have her euthanized after her seizures began, causing the accident that crippled her leg. Afraid to die, she'd allowed him to intervene on her behalf. Nessa had despised herself for her cowardice. But no more.
"Let this wretched life have some worth," she pleaded to her brother. "By the Spirit, Jarek, let me contribute like everyone else."
Jarek stared at her a long moment, finally dropping his head in resignation. He turned to Ranul with a sigh. "She does know how to fly a starship, sir. I taught her. I took her with me on solo reconnaissance missions. She's an adequate pilot."
Shock etched across Ranul's face, followed by a flush of anger. "You had no right. But we'll deal with that matter later. Right now, we have more pressing concerns." His gaze settled on Nessa, assessing her.
"So, you can pilot a ship, and you volunteer to carry a sample of the virus to Santerra?"
Her heart careened on a runaway course, both from trepidation and excitement. "Yes, I volunteer."
"And you are aware the virus will be implanted within your body and that you will develop an active case of Orana within one moon cycle?"
Her throat constricted, but she pressed on. "Yes."
"I assume you are also aware that those with Orana lose the function of their mind shields, leaving them defenseless against the Controllers. Within days after shield loss, they die a hideous death."
"I understand fully."
Ranul stared at her a moment longer, then turned to the Council members. "We could preprogram the ship's destination and lock out override. Then she wouldn't be able to alter the course. She'd just have to monitor the basic ship functions. I vote aye."
Three of the four Council members on his right raised their hands in agreement. Two of the four on his left also raised their hands. Ranul nodded. "It is decided, then. Leonessa dan Ranul will carry the virus to Santerra."
Cries of outrage and protest swept the hall. Ranul silenced them once again with a motion of his arm. "It has been decided. Unless one of you wants the honor of being implanted with Orana. Who will come forward?"
His challenge deflated the crowd's displeasure. They dispersed, considerably subdued. As awareness of her victory set in, the strength deserted Nessa's good leg. She stumbled and almost fell, but Jarek caught her.
"I wish you wouldn't do this," he told her.
She raised her eyes to his concerned expression. "I have to," she whispered. "I can no longer endure this existence."
Even if she had just signed her own death warrant.
* * * *
Clutching her bundle, Nessa approached her mother. Her belly throbbed where the Orana virus had been injected, and the crude fabric of the pilgrim's tunic, even rougher than her usual clothing, scraped against her skin. Ranul and Jarek had concocted her disguise of a pilgrim traveling to Zirak to pay homage at the goddess Shara's shrine.
A clever idea, since Zirak was only two days' light travel from Santerra. Many pilgrims went there this time of year. Her disguise would easily deceive the Anteks who patrolled all airspace for the Controllers.
But Nessa wasn't thinking of her masquerade as she approached Meris. Although she had hardly spoken with her mother these ten seasons past, a compelling need drew her now. With her world about to change forever, the possible end of her life looming, Nessa yearned for the comfort only a mother could provide. It was childish, she knew, but then she'd been just a child the day her parents turned their backs on her.
Harsh, but it was the reality of Shielder existence everywhere in the galaxy. The Controllers had driven the Shielders into the most destitute expanses of space. With so few resources available, necessity dictated survival of the fittest. Parents shared their meager supplies and limited energies only with their healthy offspring. No time to mourn those euthanized or left behind to die.
A difficult reality for a girl of twelve seasons to understand. Even after ten seasons, the pain of desertion lingered like a festering wound.
Meris maintained the weapons for the colony's combat units. Intent on the rocket launcher she was cleaning and inspecting, she appeared oblivious to her daughter's presence. Nessa watched her work. With efficient competence, her mother quickly dismantled then reassembled the launcher.
Gray had not yet streaked her limp and faded brown hair. Yet despite the fact she was not an old woman, deep lines scored her face, the result of Liron's unrelenting weather and the severe living conditions all Shielders endured.
"Meris." Nessa stepped forward, unable to bring herself to use the familial title. She no longer had that right.
Her mother's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. She set the launcher down with a clank. "What do you want?"
"I'm getting ready to depart for Santerra."
Meris drew herself up to the regal height Nessa would never reach. "So I heard. Why are you here?"
Why indeed? Had she expected her mother to greet her with open arms? To wish her well?
Nessa struggled to find words, which did not come readily to her. Normal conversation had ceased for her ten seasons ago. Outside the sounds of nature, her world
was one of enforced silence, broken only by brief, clandestine visits with her brother Jarek; or Council meetings she overheard through furtive monitoring of the computer system. Or when the younger children, forgetting the dire warnings that she was possessed, ventured near her solitary quarters, sometimes even speaking to her.
"I wanted to tell you good-bye."
Meris stared at her, seemingly uncaring. With a glimmer of insight, Nessa thought perhaps the only way a parent could turn their back on their child was by forcing themselves to no longer care. Her parents had certainly succeeded.
"Well, you've said it," Meris stated gruffly. "Be off with you, then." She whirled and strode into the hut behind her.
That was that. Fighting waves of despair, Nessa slid her burlap pack on her back and trudged away. Her mother would feel differently when she returned with an antidote for the virus. They all would.
Once out of sight of Meris, she stopped and pulled the pack off her back. It wiggled as she unhooked the closures. When she opened the flap, a fuzzy head popped out. Four beady black eyes stared at her. Chatters of greeting filled the air, and a long furry body squirmed out. "Turi! Get back in there." She scooped the lanrax into her arms. "I just wanted to check on you."
Turi immediately nestled against her chest, nuzzling her neck. His frantic chattering calmed to a series of contented clicks. With a cooing sound, he rested his head on her shoulder.
Jarek had given Turi to Nessa two seasons ago. Small, endearing mammals, lanraxes bonded for life with only one owner, usually the first person to place their scent on them. Turi had bonded with Nessa instantly. Other than her brother, he provided her sole companionship.
Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series) Page 1