Shattered Glass: An Alien Invasion Series - The Second Generation, #6

By Patricia Renard Scholes

A planet finally subdued by the invaders. The last rebellion being squashed. One woman stands in their way of total Nevian control.

 

K'arrala D'ey Sol, the heiress of His Eminence Prince Virol D'ey Sol, determines to maintain control of her Sector. But powerful political powers are just as determined to remove her.

 

A generation has passed. The Nevians finally own complete control of the planet they renamed Nevia II.  Except for one small area.

 

Nevian General Del A'nden loves K'arrala deeply, but he resents being ruled by a human.  He will do everything necessary to regain his position as the High Commissioner of this Sector, the position she stole from him last year.  He plans to woo her to his side, using her affection for him to change her mind.

 

But she knows the hope for all humans on this occupied planet of Nevia II depends upon her to remain in power. A'nden has already adopted her daughter away from her, and seems willing to use that as leverage to coerce her into abdicating her authority.

 

Furthermore, the other Sectors resent a human being in charge of a Nevian Sector. They are willing to abduct, torture, even kill her to end her rule.

 

If she succumbs to their threats, all humans will lose their one last voice, and she will be forced to forfeit her life.

 

Award-winning author, Patricia Renard Scholes, provides this raw and stunning novel filled with action from the very beginning. Don't miss reading Shattered Glass, the finalle in the Alien Invasion Series – The Second Generation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Renard Scholes
• Release date: Dec 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393229919

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

CHAPTER 1

Snow-covered peaks rose up ahead. Their beauty overwhelmed K’arrala. The view always caused a gasp of wonder. She, who had grown up in the streets of the Area, found herself incredibly amazed each time she came out here. But these foothills were as close as she ever wanted to get to Blue Sentinels. Their snow never melted. Even in summer, a stiff wind might blow a flurry into the clearing where their cabin nestled.

Days like today, not quite halfway into spring, nippy nights and mornings always greeted them. Mounds of snow clung to shaded places. Her daughter loved the snow. Neither she nor Del appreciated its icy splendor. But during the day, when the sun warmed the air, springtime filled their corner of the world with color. Most of winter’s snows had melted, leaving a broad, budding meadow in front of their cabin.

K’arrala watched the ease with which Del glided the aircar toward their tiny getaway cabin. He flew so effortlessly, as if flying were a part of his genetic makeup. He had told her how his skill was an integral part of his training as an officer in the Intergalactic Faj, as if to downplay his ability. But his expertise still amazed her.

She leaned over the seat to wake her daughter. Chalatta, darling, we are almost there. Gather your things.

In this place they were truly alone. No servants hovered. No one cooked or cleaned for them. No one spread lies or gossiped about them. No one played politics.

Del landed the craft onto the new grass of luscious green brightened by recent days of sun.

Umm. Chalatta gave a huge yawn. Already? It feels like I just went to sleep.

K’arrala laughed. You’ve been asleep since early this morning, almost as soon as you got in the aircar. That was six hours ago.

The vehicle stopped. Del pressed the button that opened the doors. They flew up, much like a jennibug taking flight. The scent of fresh mountain air assailed her senses. K’arrala took deep, luscious breaths, relishing in the smells unavailable from within the City.

Along with it came a blast of cold air.

Ugnh. Del hated the cold. He hurried outside and ran to the back, where he grabbed their bags.

K’arrala unlocked the cabin, leaving the door open for her family, while she entered the kitchen to light the furnal stove. Later they planned to enjoy a fire in the fireplace. Right now, she needed to feed everyone. She also needed to get the chill out of the air.

While the stove heated, she lit every lamp in the place. The lamps gave a warm glow that turned everything golden. Servants had already dusted and organized the small cabin, filling the pantry with food and other necessities.

Del and Chalatta busied themselves putting away their belongings. He filled the small chest of drawers next to the couch where he slept with his personal things. Chalatta put hers and her mother’s belongings in a dresser in the single bedroom.

By the time they unpacked, the water in the kettle steamed. K’arrala poured the water into the tea pot and set it and cups on the table. Del and Chalatta each took a cup and sat at the table, sipping tea while she finished making their breakfast.

Mmm. Chalatta breathed in deeply. Smells so good!

K’arrala took the biscuits out of the oven. She placed a bowl of reconstituted dried fruit and some biscuits on the table that edged the backside of the couch. The front of the couch faced the fireplace. The table faced the kitchen. She retrieved a bowl of scrambled eggs, as she sat to join her family.

We will only be here for two days, Del said with a glance at the small chest of drawers. Why did we bring so much with us?

Her daughter laughed. We always do, father. Way more stuff than we need. And we always pack it back in the aircar. But we don’t know what we need until we get here. The weather out here has surprised us more than once.

K’arrala remembered the unexpected snowfall during early fall last year. Still recuperating from her prison ordeal, she had finally felt well enough to make the trip. After they arrived, a mountain of snow nearly buried them, forcing them to dig out the aircar and uncover the solar cells that powered their vehicle before they could leave.

Well, K’arrala said. The servants can’t read our minds. All they can do is get the cabin ready. It’s up to us to decide what to bring.

Chalatta raised her hands and looked upward. Khaadi, we thank you especially for the chance to leave behind the problems of the Sector. We thank you for blessing this family with such abundance. We also give thanks for this food. You are always gracious.

Always gracious, K’arrala repeated.

Del, who always prayed to the One Being, closed his eyes during her prayer. He never prevented her from expressing her faith. K’arrala was thankful for that as well.

For all the damage Del’s people had done in taking over this planet, at least they allowed Homelanders to worship as they pleased.

Listen to me grumble! Del said when he finished his own quiet prayer. You would think I hate coming here.

What you hate are the events that require us to need a place to get away. I am not looking forward to the Purist League’s proposal. There are already some on the Council who lean in their direction.

Mama, please, Chalatta protested. We came to get away from all of that.

Through her internal awareness, K’arrala felt her daughter’s irritation with the constant politics that ruled their lives.

Yes, we did. Del dug into his breakfast.

K’arrala sighed. This was one of the few places where she could discuss the concerns of the City without someone eavesdropping.

But they had agreed not to talk politics, at least Del and Chalatta had. The Purist League’s proposal, however, gnawed at her. She needed to know where he stood, especially since he represented the Formalists. The two groups shared some views, especially in their response to humans.

When she first met him, the number of Formalists were few. Lately, since Master D’ey Sol’s death, a growing number expected Del A’nden, his nephew, to replace him in leadership. Some of them openly wanted her out of the picture, expecting A’nden to take control of the Council as well.

Every time they talked about it, they argued.

She hid a sigh. Chalatta noticed, but only gave her a blink of eye contact. The Krindarwee heritage she inherited from her biological father make her far too aware. K’arrala found it unnerving, even after all this time.

May I go outside?

You’re finished eating already?

Already! she chirped.

Del nodded, helping himself to seconds. K’arrala followed suit. Maybe now she could talk to him in private.

CHAPTER 2

They will discuss politics. Chalatta tried not to slam the door behind her. The rumblings of an argument lay just beyond them. If they chose to go there, the whole vacation would be cut short.

She looked around at the forested foothills and gave a deep sigh. This was the only place safe enough for her to roam at will. Once inside the City, they kept her guarded. Even her play was monitored.

She refused to be drawn into their issues. To keep them from locating her, she wanted to cover herself in a Null field, hiding from sight. In the City, they forbade her to use it. Most of the time she complied, but out here, with no one listening or watching, Chalatta felt no restrictions. Out here, there was no reason to cover herself in Null. Here she could express the unusual abilities she had inherited from her biological father’s people, the Krindarwee.

Unusual for most people, she reminded herself. Exceptions existed in both Irelli and Nevian peoples. Her Irelli mother as well as her adopted Nevian father were a good match for each other in their abilities. But their Talent was rare, so rare that even among their own, they hid most of what they could do. For example, her mother hid the fact that she eavesdropped on the surface thoughts of those on the City Council. Even though all of them were Talented, none matched her mother’s skill.

But Chalatta outshone them all. Even among the Krindarwee, she was the most powerful to be born in generations, forcing her to keep many of her abilities secret, even from her parents. That sat at odds with her. She wanted to live in the open, free to do what came naturally.

As do we all. Zilla responded to her surface thoughts in mind speech. Nevian dominance restricts everyone, especially our people.

Zilla’s power was far-reaching. Her ambigah allowed her to address Chalatta from her small hut in the Village, where most of the Krindarwee in this Sector lived. It never surprised her when Zilla touched her mind with speech. Chalatta expected it. Zilla had been beside her even before her father’s death. Otherwise, she doubted she would have survived the agony of losing the only parent who understood her.

You would have survived. Zilla’s thoughts filtered through what she wanted to add before she finally spoke them into Chalatta’s mind. It would have been far more difficult, of course. People need other people. We’re made that way.

The girl gave a mental nod.

But I didn’t contact you to tell you what you already know. I wanted to compliment you on your work at healing your mother this year. You’ve completely restored the injury to her back and those she received while in prison.

Thank you, Grandmother. Zilla never gave unnecessary compliments. She always meant exactly what she said.

A smile lit Zilla’s thoughts at that title. Not having been raised among her people, Chalatta often needed to remind herself that the woman’s title was not Leader or even Priestess, even though she filled both those functions, but Sanasinni, which literally meant Grandmother in the Irelli tongue. It carried with it the connotation of ordained authority. In the Krindarwee culture, the implications of meanings often carried more weight than the actual definitions.

Zilla spoke in the way of her people, with thoughts filled with scents, sounds and color as her mind speech ran through Chalatta’s head.

Not Chalatta. Tadessa, Zilla insisted. Chalatta may be your legal name, but your people call you Tadessa.

She acknowledged her Sanasinni’s words, for all the good it did. Even her mother, who knew her real identity, called her Chalatta.

There will come a time, Zilla reminded her, when even your Nevian father will be unable to hide from your purpose, but I believe that remains much further in the future.

I never wanted to be adopted into his A’nden House. Even most of a year later, it still irritated her that her mother wasn’t her legal parent. Del A’nden was.

Chalatta Deena A’nden, Zilla mused into her mind. By their laws, you would have no status at all had he not provided for you. In his culture, status is everything.

Chalatta might have responded, but at that moment she found a hill of snow. Delighted, she began constructing a snow wall. It was brittle and icy, so sometimes she needed to heat it a little by pushing some energy through her hands. Zilla’s presence became part of the background, the wind sighing in the trees, the filtered sunlight, the warmth of the sun, the freezing chill of the snow that she formed with her bare hands.

Zilla broke through her enthusiasm with a sense of urgency.

The other reason I contacted you, Tadessa, was to tell you that I see a huge storm brewing in the southlands of Sector Three. Somehow it will involve your whole family. None of you is safe.

She stopped building. What do you mean?

Zilla gave a mental shake of her head. That’s all I see.

Zilla’s gift came sporadically, and in pictures that needed interpretation. If all she saw was a storm from the south that encompassed her family, then that was all. She never lied. She never elaborated.

But her visions always came true.

CHAPTER 3

K’arrala leaned into Del and rested her head on his chest. Standing, they stared at the blossoming meadow through the large front window. In the winter, the window was shuttered against the winter storms, but not now when it was so nice outside.

She wanted to take him into the bedroom and make love to him. She always wanted intimacy with him. But as a Formalist, he would refuse her. He always turned her down, promising from their very first meeting not to defile her. She needed to wait until they married. Sometimes she found that hard.

No, too often she found it almost impossible. Trained far too young in life how to use her body, she wanted control. Worse, he knew she did: his other reason for turning her down. You may control the Council, he had said more than once, but you will never control me.

But old ways died hard. She fought the desire to manipulate him as easily as she did others. But even when she tried, Del could not be manipulated. Through the powers of her abilities, she had made more than one man fall in love with her. Del was the first to love her without her using any internal encouragement.

Del had shown her another way. He treated her as if