Catherine Spangler - Shielder 01 - Shielder.pdf - Catherine Spangler - SilverWitch

Shielder

Catherine Spangler

Shielder Series Book 02

Dorchester Love Spell

April 1999

ISBN: 0505523043

Chapter One

Only one object adorned the pitifully small grave. A toy. A pretend phaser, crudely fashioned from binea

wood.

Once again, the spirit of death had shown no compassion, no discrimination in choosing its prey. 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 learned to despise her.

Sinking into a crouch, she rested her head against the barrier separating the living from those who had

passed on. The damp wind plastered wisps of her roughly shorn brown 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.

There was 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 only protection against

them, a natural mind barrier.

Nessa pushed herself 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 adjourned 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 them.

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 damp coolness 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 lay 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 Sonoma. It's the only Shielder facility capable of

developing an antidote," Captain san Mars told the gathering. "As if that isn't challenge enough, 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 starclass ship," Commander Jarek san Ranul added. "Only a star

class is capable of the trek."

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 knowledgeable 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 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 of questions 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. There was no need to put Ranul's thoughts into words, she

knew what they were thinking. She shouldn't be alive to plague the colony, partaking of their pitifully few

resources—and wouldn't be, if it hadn't been for Jarek.

Clenching her hands tightly at her side, she drew herself up to the fullest of her slight height. "Then let me

carry the virus to Sonoma."

"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

Sonoma, 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 not the first thing about starships carry the virus to Sonoma. 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 first seizures, which had caused the accident that crippled

one of her legs. Afraid to die, she'd allowed him to intervene on her behalf. At the time, 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 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 Sonoma?"

Her heart careened on a runaway course, driven both by 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 contemplated 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

Sonoma."

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."

For she had likely just signed her death warrant.

Clutching her bundle against her, Nessa approached her mother. Her belly throbbed where the Orana

virus had been injected, and the crude fabric of her 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.

It was a clever idea, since Zirak was only two days' light travel from Sonoma. 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 had turned their

backs on her.

It was harsh, but it was the reality of Shielder existence everywhere in the galaxy. The Controllers had

driven the Shielders into the most destitute corners 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. There was no time to mourn those euthanized or left behind to die.

It was 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 efficiency, Meris quickly dismantled then reassembled the launcher.

Gray had not yet streaked her limp and faded brown hair. Yet despite the fact that she was not an old

woman, deep lines scored her face, the result of Liron's unrelenting weather and the severe living

conditions her people 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 gaze narrowing. She set the launcher down with a clank. "What do

you want?"

"I'm getting ready to depart for Sonoma."

Meris drew herself up to a 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 and sometimes even spoke to her.

Catherine Spangler - Shielder 01 - Shielder.pdf

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