Her Darkest Beauty: An Alien Invasion Series - The Second Generation, #1

By Patricia Renard Scholes

A perfect assassin. A mind-controlling alien. Humanity caught in the crosshairs.

 

Karra hopes that the recent assassination job will be her last. Her life is not safe enough for her to raise her daughter. But something too large and dark inside her head prevents her from loving others, even he own daughter. The entity that has controlled her since childhood refuses to relinquish its grip on her exquisite violence.

 

As Karra wars against her internal captor, the alien race orchestrates its takeover of the entire planet. To fight back against impossible odds, Karra must master her internal parasite and learn how to defeat it. Does it even have a weakness to exploit?

 

If she fails in her mission, the creature will use her as an example as the way to make all humanity their slaves, including her precious little girl.

 

Award-winning author, Patricia Renard Scholes, provides this raw and stunning novel filled with action from the very beginning. Don't miss out on Steps of the Dance, the next installment in the Alien Invasion Series – The Second Generation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lorekeeper Publishing Services
• Release date: Oct 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781467912372

Patricia Renard Scholes

Born into an abusive home, Patricia determined to make a better home when she married. She realized as soon as her first child was born that she needed to relearn how to parent. After much reading, trial and error, and advice, she accomplished her goal so well she began to parent other children in her home. That is the background Patricia brings into her stories. Her "children" are heroes, survivors who lived through tough childhoods and went on to become successful adults. Although her work is mainly science fiction, her characters are based on composites of real people who also must live with their decisions. Patricia and her husband, live outside of Durango, Colorado, surrounded by national forest, a great environment for a writer.  

Book preview

Prologue

As human prisoners awaited transport, the entity waited to feed. Others of its kind awaited them in the newly built prison. No more visible than a wisp of darkness, the creature had spent much time in the camp feeding off the fear that permeated the air with sweet perfume. Hoping to get more than aroma, it hung near several who might live through their incarceration and tried to entice them. They were a dispirited a lot, too powerless.

But there! That human blazed with an uncommon fury. The entity hovered closer, considering a number of ways to seduce him, anticipating the feed, when a burst of rifle fire blasted through the camp. Prisoners fell, including the one it had chosen to inhabit.

Irritated, the smoky being searched the crowd hoping for a victim who would accept its guidance.

Most humans, however, did not appeal to it because too few of them owned even a flicker of true power. Humans were a boring species. Here an atrocity had just been committed, a line of twenty of their own had been murdered by rifle fire, and the crowd muttered helplessly or wept hopelessly. No spark of rage flamed with bright energy. No one dug deep inside to raise a lush fire of revenge. None of them despised their enemy enough to hate, hurt, and kill.

Ah, now! What about that child at the front of the crowd, swaying on unsteady legs? Her energy burned, but her spirit flagged. This child held promise. She possessed the essence of uncommon Talent, attractive to the entity—to own such power, to feed upon it, and control it! The urge to taste the child’s misery through the blaze of her Talent drew it close enough to be touched. Although her grasp of Talent would have allowed her to see it floating right next to her, she did not.

It hovered around the devastated child in indecision. It wanted to taste her trauma in its fullness, not sniff at the wisps of fear and sorrow that emanated from her thoughts. It had not drunk the full expression of emotion in a very long time. It usually ignored children. They simply took too long to experience life in all its darkest beauty. This girl would need to reach adolescence before she could become a true predator, and that remained several years away. The entity had never been known for its patience.

But the power! It ached to possess her power to twist it at will. Once she matured, this child could fulfill its darkest wishes.

I can help you, the entity offered, speaking directly into the child’s mind.

To its delight, the child did not look alarmed at the alien voice in her head. Neither did she search the crowd for the speaker, unlike most humans. Most humans, especially the Talentless, would have pushed away the entity’s thought as too strange to accept, and then insult the offer by forgetting it had ever happened. Most humans were beneath the creature’s notice, not this child, however. The child accepted the beast’s voice, but her eyes remained on the body of one of the prisoners that had just fallen, the one the transparent creature had abandoned after the man’s life force left.

Her father! So that was why this girl felt such an amazing flare of emotion. The beast studied her as she stared at her father’s blood turning the black mud into a sick red.

He’s dead, it told her. They killed him. It threw a bolt of hatred for her enemies at her to see what she would do. With children, one never knew. Some of them simply shut down, and this one looked like she might.

The child accepted the hatred. The Talent in her burned with a desire for revenge.

The beast purred.

It tried another bolt, this time one of fear. All of you are in danger with them in control.

It nearly laughed with delight when the child also accepted the second bolt.

I can protect you, it said. Let me make you strong enough to eliminate those who took your father from you, and I will reward you. It then gave her a taste of the reward. It allowed her to feel nothing at all, giving her a sense of peace like cold, numbing ice...

Chapter 1

Karra slipped into the back of the classroom, head down as if embarrassed. In reality, she felt sick from too much indulgence last night. Remembering last night almost brought a smile until she remembered she was supposed to show contrition for being late for school.

Last night, her heels had tapped across the tiled floor. All the guests watched as she poured drinks and offered caresses. Last night she used the name Desire, and made sure each one of the guests craved her attention. She relished her control over the guests. She remembered how their eyes lingered on her hands as she stroked the silky fabric stretched tightly over the curves of her body. Last night, Barnis Ves, the Nevian investigator, mentioned once, and only once, how he liked blondes better. Blonde was the shade of her childhood, she told him last night. With no trouble at all she made him forget the color of her hair. Last night, after the guests left, wanting her all to himself, he had called her the best. And until the moment came for her to kill him, she was.

Another smile threatened, as she remembered last night’s murder. She had accomplished quite a bit last night, ridding her world of one more Nevian, then relieving him of his cash, in addition to the money he had promised at the beginning of the evening’s entertainment. She considered it a tip. The Homelander Front had paid her in advance for her unique services.

Still, she had not relished killing him, even if he was from Nevia. She had begun to want out of her life, maybe even out of her very skin, which seemed to house too much of something large and dark. It felt as if not enough room remained for loving and laughing, especially when she needed to force room for holding her daughter and playing with her.

Karra tore her mind from last night and tried to concentrate on this morning’s lesson. Thankfully, no one had given her more than a cursory glance. Maybe the adult education program was more lenient than the one designed for children. The teacher could have sent her directly to the Chief Administrator’s office for coming in late, had he wished.

She froze in her seat when Sinda spoke her name.

... positive Karra didn’t really mean it that way. Surely she isn't actually implying a parallel between her cruel barbarians and our benefactors.

The class, in discussion over their writing assignments, had chosen her story as the topic. Squeaky-voiced Sinda, Inner City bred, sounded exactly the way Karra expected.

She's Area, erren’t she? Manroy argued. She don't see 'our benefactors' the same way you do, Sinda.

Then you're both totally ignorant! Sinda spouted. In her story barbarians didn't build cities and bless the world with their incredible technology, did they? Did they? No! They ravaged the whole land and forced people into hiding. It isn’t the same at all!

Erren’t it? Whose culture is left? Ask yourself that. Whose celebrations do we honor? Which history is taught? Maybe you’ve never heard our family stories. I have. Who benefits from the kindness of ‘our benefactors’?

Enough! Stiveson barked.

Although his voice sounded harsh, Karra saw Stiveson grin. She watched his face grow pink, slowly across his cheeks and nose, delighted that his class finally discussed something.

Manroy, tell us why you came to your conclusions. Did Karra's barbarians build anything?

No, he admitted. But they destroyed a whole culture and replaced it with their own, as if they had a right to.

Why didn't they have a right to do what they did? Sinda?

Because they were awful! They hurt and killed people!

No, he objected. It was more'n that.

Explain, Manroy.

But while the young man searched for words, someone else spoke.

Maybe Karra didn't intend a parallel, the other student said in a voice so quiet Karra had to strain to hear her. Whether the old culture was replaced with savagery or technology, the fact remains, it was replaced. I think that was the whole point of her story.

Do you agree with Bibbera, Sinda?

No. Her logic is as ignorant as Manroy’s. She sounds like she's from the Area like Karra and Manroy are.

Ignorant, Stiveson interrupted. You use that word quite a bit. What makes her logic ignorant? What does the Homelander Outer Area or a Nevian Inner City have to do with a story about barbarians? Karra, would you like to answer that? It’s your story after all.

Karra shook her head. The movement brought a wave of nausea. She had taken a couple of tablets before she left Barnis Ves that he insisted would kill a hangover. By the time she reached school, a headache had also begun to develop, so she had taken two more. They hadn’t yet worked. She wished she had spent time this morning to score something more reliable off the streets. But she was already running late, and had really wanted to honor her promise to her mother to finish school. She couldn’t finish if she didn’t attend.

She’s wise to say nothing, Sinda snapped instead. She continued speaking just above a whisper, It's wrong to make a parallel where there isn't one. You know that, Master Stiveson.

Sirra. Stiveson’s correction sounded husky with emotion. He was the only teacher who insisted on the old Irelli title. Karra feared it would cost him his job someday, if his curiosity did not.

Believing she had access to some of the old Homelander literature, he had asked her for just one illegal book. Instead, she had used their most recent assignment by writing a story showing people hiding their treasures, burying bits of knowledge, making tiny caches of wealth for the day the barbarians would leave, or be destroyed. She hoped he understood that all such treasures remained in secret places, indicating that if she did have access to anything illegal, they would remain there until the invaders left—or were destroyed. Only someone from the Area would have dared to write such a story. She wondered if Sirra Stiveson would have been so willing to choose her story if he knew that last night she had eliminated one of their oppressors. She also wondered how her classmates would have responded, Sinda in particular. Karra allowed herself a small half-smile.

Pleased with yourself, Mistress Willo?

Startled, she jerked her head upward to see the Chief Administrator of Education standing in the doorway. His alien black-within-black eyes gleamed back at her.

Pardon? she asked in a voice far calmer than the pounding of her heart and the thundering in her head.

A most revealing story, yes? Are you pleased with its results?

I'm sure I don’t...

But he gave her no time to reply. Master Stiveson, he said, emphasizing the politically accepted title. He waited a moment, as if judging the class for its reaction. He seemed satisfied when no one spoke or moved. I will take it, please.

The composition and literature teacher held the pages out for his superior. They shook.

The Administrator turned toward Stiveson. I want to see you this afternoon during your free period, Stiveson. Mistress Willo, you will come with me.

Karra glanced at her teacher who avoided her eyes. Flushed to the top of his bald spot, he focused his attention back to his class, changing the subject. Karra ducked from the pity in her classmate’s peripheral glances, and brought herself to her feet.

Later, when she recalled this moment, she realized she should have run right then and never looked back, no matter the promises made to a dying mother. The events that followed changed her life forever.

Chapter 2

The Administrator strode toward his offices with authority, indicating he expected her to accompany him. The day of her interview by the examination panel reviewing her application, Karra had walked down this same hall. They informed her that they screened all applicants before accepting them into the Second Start Program.

We must be sure, a panel member had stated, sounding as if she chose her words with care, that your past does not interfere with (corrupt, Karra interpreted) the goals of the other students.

Considering her family background, the panel was probably more worried about her politics. She doubted they spent any energy at all worrying about her legal profession, such as the evening entertainment Investigator Barnis thought he had purchased. The panel was right. Politics did get in the way. Had she not been so afraid of what the Nevian investigator was close to finding, she would never have accepted the job, either as his party favor or as an assassin.

Karra tried to blink past the massive headache developing behind her eyes. Her thoughts clouded as a storm brewed in her head. Her ability to think fogged.

She doubted incoherent thoughts plagued the Administrator’s brain. He had invited her to his office with a definite purpose in mind. He had no trouble seeing a relationship between the barbarians in her story and the benefactors his people claimed to be. He guided her toward his office in the Administration of Education wing of the school.

Being the Council member in charge of public education, he might even take a personal pride in his people’s nearly successful attempts to destroy the diverse cultures of this planet. Graduation from the Public Academy allowed its students access to several of the private upper-level academies. It advertised that all graduates qualified for a number of Inner City jobs. True enough, but a person could starve before receiving such cherished employment. Karra had one other sibling who attended the Public Academy, her brother Dugaan who was four years younger. The rest of her siblings attended a local Primary Basic school.

Primary Basic schools, scattered throughout the Area, taught Irelli language, reading, basic math, Nevian history and civic duty. Although not required, such an education was available for Sector Five children from six through fifteen. No subjects in geography were included in a Basic education. No ties to the mainland and to the Homelander cultures that once lived there were ever offered. For a Basic student, their world began and ended within the city of Sector Five’s walls.

A Primary Basic allowed Area residents to be more valuable to their Nevian employers. Saril, the sister just younger than her, although sixteen, had been permitted to remain in the local Primary Basic school in order to graduate by the end of the year. Saril would be the first among Karra’s siblings to receive that distinction.

Ahead of his class, Dugaan would graduate next year. He planned to become a physician someday. Most Area residents found the cost of any of the upper-level academies prohibitive. Dugaan would too if he failed to find someone to sponsor him. Area residents rarely made more than just enough to survive.

Such realities usually incensed her, making her want to lash out at the Nevians. But today she needed to focus on the issue at hand, meaning how to satisfy the Administrator of Education’s curiosity and still be able to remain at school. The story she had written, still clutched in his hand, waved at her like a flag of caution.

The plaque on his door gave his full name and title. She squinted past the headache to see it clearly: Hannok Se Walliz, Chief Administrator of Education, and was sorry the moment she did. A new dart of pain stabbed through the back of her brain.

She tried to distract herself by recalling what she knew of Master Walliz. The man sat on the Sector Five Council along with the various heads of this Sector’s administrative committees that met regularly with the High Commissioner. She wished he had chosen to administer education from a separate facility altogether. All others on the Sector Five Council kept their offices in Level Three. The canned blurb maintained that Level One, being the closest to the Outer Area streets, made Sector Five education accessible to everyone, but most Homelanders knew otherwise, even Level One Homelanders like Sinda.

His hand gripped her elbow as he propelled her past the door and through the outer office where his human receptionist sat keying entries at her desk. Although not a Nevian, the woman would betray her own kind to Security before she would risk losing her Inner City job.

Walliz closed the door. She winced as the sound of the latch closing hammered in her head. Go away, she told the headache. Think through it, she told herself.

Out of habit, Karra studied the room. It contained only one massive desk with three matching chairs, with his behind the desk, and two guest chairs facing his desk. One wall boasted of a floor-to-ceiling bookcase opposite a marbled window. Further examination showed the window presented no function outside of decor. Not meant to open, it even refused to let light in well.

The only way out, she finally realized, was the way in. The sudden thought brought another crash of thunder in her head.

Her eyes left the window and rested on the man as he sank his stocky body in the chair behind his desk. With stumpy, gray-lined fingers he pushed back a lock of blue-black hair that had fallen across his forehead.

Odd, she thought when she also began to see herself last night, stroking Barnis’ forehead, combing his scantier hair with her fingers as though she enjoyed it. She shuddered. The money compensated.

Please sit down, Mistress Willo.

Was the room growing warm?

Just the other day I thought about you and decided to pull your file. Yes?

What have I done to make him think of me? Fear slashed at her, throwing hot daggers into her head, causing her vision to blur. Beads of sweat dampened her brow. She tried to hide the barrage of emotions behind a placid expression, and knew she failed.

Here we are. 'Karra Andra Willo,' he read. A pretty name. His black-within-black eyes searched her face for some reaction.

Barnis’ face kept trying to overlay the Chief Administrator's. She cocked her head to one side, hoping to see which one was really speaking. The movement sent a red lance behind her eyes.

Yes, he continued when she remained mute. Pretty. 'Father: Jon Carlon Willo.' Hmm, same name as your eldest brother. Would that not be confusing?

Confusing? She shook her head, more to clear it than to answer his question. More pain. Keep to the subject, she reminded herself. What was the subject? Oh, yes, my brother’s name. My father used the name Jon. We call my eldest brother Carlon.

I see. 'Mother: Chalatta Zanne Willo. Both parents deceased.'

Dead. A flash of red pierced her sight. Administrator Walliz’ stumpy fingers fired a rifle that assassinated her father. Scarlet blood oozed across the carpet.

What chemicals were in those tablets, Barnis? She clutched for a strand of reality.

Another name similarity here, Walliz commented. Chalatta, your daughter, has the same first name as your mother did. Is this a common practice among Homelanders, giving people in the same family the same names?

My mother was a woman of virtue. Why wouldn’t I want to name my daughter after her? Sudden anger pulled at her. He dared to challenge her decision?

I see.

You see nothing! But I will make him see. Oh, yes!

Karra took a deep breath to stifle her growing rage and to smother a wave of terror headed her way.

He returned his attention to the folder. Is this accurate? Eight children survive your parents?

Yes. Every two years Mama birthed a baby while Daddy lived at home. His first arrest had produced the gap between the three older siblings and Karra. The second imprisonment had killed him. She usually avoided that memory, but right now it all but screamed at her. She blinked rapidly.

The image changed. Although his blood still stained the carpet, she now saw her father pounding his fist on the table like a meat cleaver in a butcher’s shop. Sann’s Health Center isn’t about health at all. It’s a sterilization clinic, just another form of Nevian-approved genocide. They'll use anything at their disposal to kill us off, or enslave those of us who refuse to conform, all quite legal, of course, like their education and employment laws.

But a glance at the Nevian in front of her told her he never heard her father's tirade. She clenched her teeth in grim determination, willing away the vision of her father pounding on the table.

But eight! An incredible number of children, especially for a family trying to survive in the Outer Area! Why did your mother not have herself sterilized?

My father wouldn't have permitted it. Karra doubted the question ever surfaced. But their poverty had not killed him. Bullets had. His assassination was all she remembered about that day, but that one fact kept her burning with rage against her conquerors. Her fury was part of the reason she had finally let herself be talked into this last (Jem promised) job. The other part was that Barnis Ves had become a threat to both the Homelander Front and to her father’s work.

Barbaric. He shook his head in disbelief. 'Father was a political activist, imprisoned for treason before his death.’ He looked up from the pages in front of him, studying her. One of your brothers, the second from the oldest, I believe, is Jem Hesson Willo. He continues as a political activist, Mistress Willo. He raised the black arches above his eyes and gave her an expectant look.

She could not think how to respond, so intent she was on not losing herself to the red, pounding headache of insane paranoia that crouched in her mind.

He tapped the file in front of him. You see that we have many facts at our disposal regarding your family.

She supposed she should have been impressed, or at least intimidated, but the pain in her head kept growing, as did the flashes of images (hallucinations?) that should not exist.

When she still remained silent, he asked, Do you have any idea where your brother Jem is, Mistress Willo?

Nobody does.

Nobody does. Investigator Barnis Ves, last night’s assignment, had also been looking for Jem, but he had been more interested in locating a certain collection of Homelander literature reputed to be held by Jem. Jem knew nothing about those books and papers.

The Investigator’s questions, however, had led him too close to her own secret place, the very building where she had placed the literature. According to the paperwork she destroyed, he planned to search the building this very afternoon. She killed him right after he let her read them. Too close! Karra wondered if anyone else would pick up the thread of his investigation and nose around her hideaway in the future.

Nevian authority, uncertain as to which of the Willo children had hidden the work, usually blamed Jem, since he led the militant resistance organization, the Homelander Front. But not even Jem knew where she had hidden their father’s work.

V’anel Kees Sol, the Council member heading the investigative committee, had hired Barnis to confiscate all Homeland subversive materials. His specific instructions were to locate and destroy the history their father had collected before his death. They wanted nothing to conflict with their version of history, which claimed that Nevians had rescued Homelanders from barbarism and savagery. They allowed no other viewpoint. Her father’s collection of true history insisted that Nevians had subjugated this peaceful planet with barbarism.

In truth, Homelanders had developed three distinct cultures, across the main continent, none of which had ever been savage. The Irellis, her mother’s ancestors, had built this Northland city and the cultivated regions surrounding it. Nevians now called it and the surrounding land Sector Five. Irellis had once called this city Northlights for the display of northern lights that appeared during the long winter nights. They had called the rich farmland surrounding the city the Blue Sentinel Plains and the mountains that sheltered the plains used to be named the Blue Sentinels. The mountains, rugged, always snowcapped, looking like rows of white-helmeted sentries, protected the city and the plains from the worst of the bitter Northrange Winds that howled past the Blue Sentinels each winter. But the Irelli names for their land had all but disappeared, along with the Northlights, which could not be seen because of the well-lit city the Nevians had constructed.

The Zarindan, her father’s people, vibrant traders and storytellers, used to share news as well as trade. Northlights had been so far north its residents hungered for each tale the Zarindan traders shared. Her father’s father, a Zarindan storyteller himself, had traveled all over the main continent before the Nevians’ arrival. During the winters, he fostered his children in Irelli homes to attend Irelli schools. Her father, Jon Willo, had inserted his natural propensity for storytelling into his love of history and had taught history at the Public Academy before Nevians had changed the curriculum.

Jon Willo had only taught Irelli and Zarindan history since he knew too little about the people to the south, the Krindarwee, who kept to themselves. The Krindarwee were the least industrial of the three groups, but they had never been savages either. Soon after Karra’s birth, authorities silenced Jon Willo’s version of history by arresting and imprisoning him. Afterwards he had found a part-time teaching job at a local Primary Basic school. When Karra turned nine, her father had been imprisoned for the last time, then killed for collecting and hiding what he knew of the Homelanders’ true history.

To entice her into accepting the job to stop Barnis Ves’ investigation, her older brother, Jem, had complained that the Nevian was getting too close to the Homelander Front. Even so, no matter how much money Jem offered her, Karra refused the job until she learned how close Barnis Ves was also heading toward what their father had died to keep hidden.

Not even family knows where Jem is. This time she stared directly at the Nevian. Let him prove otherwise.

She shifted her attention to his thin eyebrows, as black as his head hair, finding them easier than staring into his alien, black-upon-black, eyes. The dark pupil seemed to bore into her whenever she met his gaze. Even so, except for bluish-gray skin color and the strange black eyes, they looked almost human, another fact that upset her. Aliens should look more—alien.

I see. He frowned. We keep our records as accurate as possible on the families of known political subversives. You understand that, yes?

Yes. She expected this enemy to find out all he could on families like the Willos. Sweat dampened her clothing where her body pressed it against the chair.

Subversive. Subversive, a voice in her thundering head echoed.

Good. You have a very difficult past to overcome. I would like to believe we could begin your future on a note of trust. I will trust you to be honest with me. You will demonstrate that your past is indeed where it belongs and I will insure that you receive the benefits of Inner City citizenship. How does that sound?

Fine, Master Walliz. Exception, Master. What is this going to cost me besides the lives of my father and mother? Jem's life? My own?

He nodded.

Heat seared her stomach. Had she asked those questions aloud?

Let us begin with the story you wrote for Stiveson's class. What do you have to say about it?

Say about it, say about it, her head taunted. Yes, what will you say about it?

It was a fantasy assignment, so I wrote about some marauding barbarians destroying a civilized culture.

Nothing else?

No. What else could there be? Fear tinged the edges of her voice. What else could there be-be-be-be-be. Her head repeated the single word in rapid fire, like the bullets that had taken her father’s life.

Stiveson suggested a parallel between your barbarians and, ah, Nevians. You were smiling.

I was? I...I must have been embarrassed by Master Stiveson's conclusions.

Embarrassed? You? A grin filled with pointed teeth formed in her mind.

Yes. Mmm. He returned to her recorded history, reading to himself until he found what he wanted. 'At fourteen years of age, Karra received a yellow certificate from Sann's Health Center.' Fourteen! You were hardly more than a child! This says you were sterilized because of an illegal pregnancy—at fourteen, Mistress Willo?—and accepted the yellow certificate option of your own free will. So, should I expect you have suddenly made a change in your life?

A bit surprised, Karra stared at Barnis. Last night Barnis had very definitely not wanted her to change.

Change, change, change, her head insisted.

No, she assured him, wearing last night’s seductive smile. I don't think I've changed at all.

He responded with a twitch of his lips and returned his attention quickly back to the file, as if he needed to force himself away from her. Perhaps. Several long seconds passed before he continued. Still, you did promise the school panel your prostitution days were over.

I did? When did I promise that? At Sann’s they had told her that the yellow certificate option was permanent. If she

Reviews for Her Darkest Beauty

[jayblac21 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received this book from the author in exchange for an honest review I loved the blurb it was well written and definitely made me very interested in the book. The cover on the earc was different than the goodreads which is a little boring. The cover on the version I got had a more scifi vibe but it could have been better.The book is well written, but not quite what I was expecting after reading the blurb I got the impression that Karra was aware of the entity which inhabits her but she's completely ignorant to it. However that seemed to be a good move on the authors part because the story gets better as she begins to realize that voice in her heard isn't schizophrenia is the entity that's been inhabiting her mind since the day her father was murdered. And boy the story gets better As you read it. Karra has so many enemies I'm almost frustrated at the injustice of it all. In the end Karra realizes she's the one who holds all the power and manages the free herself from the entity named the Molloch. The book was good definitely scifi and well written. I like the way it ended because although there will probably be more to the story the book fulfilled it's purpose and the writer achieved the task of writing a good novel and it did not feel unfinished.