Genesis Anthology Group

This Groups Is For The Authors In The Genesis Anthology to showcase their contributions as well as anyone interested in the Genesis Anthology Series. 

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Genesis Anthology Series Book 1 & 2

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Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin Feb 15, 2018. 2 Replies



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Hello everyone!We are early into the production of the latest anthology but we wanted to share the cover concept for book three which continues the tradition of showcasing our member's great work.…Continue


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Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by Yo Jeff Sep 12, 2013. 1 Reply

Hello and thank you for participating in the Genesis II Project!It is finally done and I have the proof copy in hand!We plan to officially release it at the Motor City Convention in Detroit, MI,  the 27th of this month. You will receive your copies…Continue


Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by Valjeanne Jeffers Sep 2, 2013. 5 Replies

Forward  (Ytasha L. Womack)Introduction (Jarvis Sheffield)After The Last Day (D. S. Brown)…Continue


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Preorder Genesis Anthology Chapter II

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Genesis Anthology Chapter II ALMOST HERE!After the success of our first book Genesis Anthology, we had to come back with another…Continue

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Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin Apr 25, 2012. 14 Replies

GENESIS CHAPTER II The Black Science Fiction Society Anthology Guidelines1.…Continue

Curse by Kwame Maherpa

Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by maherpa Sep 1, 2011. 2 Replies

EXCERPTFor days, a furious rain had been beating down on the country of a Hundred Hills, as unpredictable as the murderous fever that had set ablaze the hearts and darkened the spirits of its people:“Kill them all!”Following this dreadful sentence…Continue

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Proving Intelligent Design by William Landis

Started by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin. Last reply by william landis Aug 28, 2011. 4 Replies

EXCERPT“This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done” said Maricus. “Isn’t there another way to figure this out?”                “Well, this is the most accurate way we have,” said Dr. Langdon. “If you have a better way of figuring this out,…Continue

Tags: William, Landis, by, Design, Intelligent

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Comment by Jarvis Sheffield - Admin on June 21, 2011 at 9:04pm

Reseller Program





If you answered yes to any of this you should be selling our book, Genesis Anthology Of Black Science Fiction.


The reseller program is simple.

  1. Buy 10 books for $12
  2. We ship you 10 books
  3. You resell for $20


You get the same deal as bookstores


If you are serious about making money contact us

Comment by Ivory SImone on February 17, 2011 at 4:10am
Deana and Jeff, thank you for taking the time to critique my story. I TRULY APPRECIATE  YOUR FEEDBACK. This is my first sci-fi/horror short story. I'm trying to sharpen my story telling and writing skills in this genre because I have a graphic novel I'm working on. I think it helps to take small steps before leaping into a major writing project. Your comments have been read and absorbed. GRACIAS!
Comment by Deana Zhollis on January 3, 2011 at 10:41am

Hi there!
I just couldn't resist reading your story Ivory SImone, since you had it out there. And my "critter" senses started going as I read. I'm part of and we critique alot of short stories (fantasy, horror, SF) and sometimes novels.

I wanted to say that while being a "critter" I've learned how some stories can just be plain awful, or you can tell that it was written by a beginner writer or someone who hasn't learned the rules, codes, and laws of writing a story. Trying to read those gets pretty sad.  Thank goodness we have a choice in critters to skip some stories and find something that's more interesting or that reads better. But it gets hard to weed through all the bad writing to find something decent.

So, I must say that it gets really refreshing when I get to read a story that is actually GooD.  And I can tell that you are definitely one of the seasoned writers.

I hope you don't mind, but I just had a few little things you can touch up on (below) but besides these six things, I don't see any other problems with your story.

I really liked the ending. Trey Boudean had another choice of dealing with worms and "doing" his life, and I actually liked his choice. :) The buildup of what he had lost with dealing with the worms and then having to miss One.More.Thing. because of the worms, is convincing to me. He could tell the police what happened AFTER the christening. And that sounds good to me (you don't say that, which I don't have to for this story, but that's what I get he would do).

As with any critiques, you take what you want and reject what you don't want. And every reader will see things differently in the same story.

I didn't have any problems with the timeline, or that is it was a world-wide event (its only in dry areas) -- because the worms want to take over the surface and eliminate humanity (so the theory goes). I don't have problems with titles unless it gives away the story, or doesn't relate to the story at all. So you don't want to mention "worms" in the title, because that gives away the story, and "breeder" doesn't give away too much, and it's catchy and makes you wonder what it has to do with a phone guy when you first start reading.

I always tell myself, when asked the question: why just "that" guy or why "that" happened. Well, it's because it's "that" guys story.  It's that character's story and they"why" is told in the story.  We have a phone guy, who missed out being with the love of his life and he's pissed and upset about it, and he has a  messed up co-worker who rubs it in.  He has a regular routine check to do and he meets a peculiar situation. Then you have a scientist who makes a great sacrifice giving up a "person" who, even though not really his daughter, was still an important part of his heart, considerng what he decided to do with his life later on in the story.  And that daughter, who was such a loving and naive person, and had no clue what was going to happen to her, becomes a touching event.

Then the main character has to make a decision, and that decision makes the story complete.

Again, sorry, I just couldn't resist butting in, but I couldn't help it since it was out there and an enjoyable read.

Just my nits below...

I REaLLY thought these were funny and a nice touch"
"mega-watt smile"--nice! Goes with the character of the story

"everything a worm knows is contained in its shit" This was funny

2) I would rewite the below sentence like this
"Scientists, using specially designed drones, discovered that the subterraneans' lined all the tunnels they create with this foul-smelling stuff."

Missing words?
...became disoriented like the beached whales we’re accustomed to rescuing

"...there were no young females for them to grab."
I agree with You Jeff. This statement came right out of the blue. In fact, you can remove it all together. The scientist talking about his wife being taken during the second wave will explain it all. And the idea of him waiting for the worms to take his daughter, that would be a nice surprise when he says this being that us readers would immediately think the guy was crazy but not knowing why.

Just needs a comma
"You’re sick partner."

6) The answer comes too quick in these sections. There should be some kind of description or something for the scientist to settle in and tell his story, or for the next character to make a statement. It becomes too much of a question/answer type of feel than a dialogue if it goes too quickly.

What’s your story, Mister?”
“My wife Marybet

"...sweet, gentle Marybeth!” 
“How’s this revenge plan of yours supposed to work?”
“Once I figured out it’s the human eggs they’re after

That's about it for my suggestion. Thanks for sharing. Enjoyed it!

Comment by Yo Jeff on December 25, 2010 at 7:57am
Okay Simon I read your story it reminds me of Humanoids from the deep. I think your story could work. I believe you have something with the worms and heating up of the earth’s core. Maybe tying it into global warming or something would help. Anyway, I have never given another writer feedback on a story before. I don’t feel I’m accomplished enough. Anyway, I hope I don’t discourage you. I am not a hater. Here are my comments.

I thought the story jumped to snatching women. I don’t know when that started happening but right before Trey talks to the old man it’s brought up. It surprised me.

Then the narrative changes to the old man which ran on too long. I forgot who was talking. Then at the end I was reminded but I did get lost in the old man’s explanation.

I think you should expand the women getting snatch part and show it happening. Maybe have the old man site an example. I don’t know but I thought the back story of the worms taking women should be shown better. Especially the military forces going in the tunnels. Just having him tell the story changes the feel of the story. My editors always tells me I have to show more and not tell so much. I don’t always know what they are talking about but I recognized it here in your story.

Also you had Trey get back with Mercy without development. How did that happen? It’s back story but you have it in there so it should make sense. Why would she get back with him? What would happen to her new man? Why does Trey want her with children? Is there no other women in Phoenix?

Then at the end why would telling the police or government keep him from going to the Alma’s christening? Wouldn’t he want to end the Worm War? He love Marcy and isn’t she in danger?

I don’t know whether it’s a world building issue or a timeline issue but why would Trey be sent out to check a line by himself in the middle of a worm war? I would also think you could play with the name of the story. I thought it was going to be the story of Emily going to be a breeder. Also, maybe you could make it an isolated incident. Something happening in a certain part of the world only. Plus, give the population of Phoenix or some other characteristic which, justifies the worm attack.

Now Simmon I’m not as brave as you to put one of my stories on the site for review but you did. So, please don’t get mad at me I hope my comments help you. Feel free to email me at if you wanted to ask me anything.   Walter Mosley has a writing book which explains showing a telling.
Comment by Ivory SImone on December 22, 2010 at 6:20am
I finally got around to completing this short story. Let know what you think.
Comment by Ivory SImone on December 22, 2010 at 6:01am
                                                         By Ivory Simone
            My name is Trey Boudean.  I’m a lineman for the Western Pacific Electric Company. Before the subterraneans started burrowing into people’s bedrooms, there was a routine to my job. Things were predictable. I worked the empty stretches of highway linking metropolitan Phoenix to the cities and towns in the western part of the state; I spent a lot of time in the deep desert near places like Yuma, Parker, Bullhead City and Kingman.  Back then, I mostly repaired downed power lines.  Small outages caused by the occasional drunk driver plowing into a power pole or a bad sandstorm blowing across the open desert snapping electrical lines before it lost steam. The work was steady and the pay was decent. Life was good.  
            I even managed to save enough money to buy a doublewide trailer and a ½ acre of land in a little desert community called “Geronimo Estates” an hour outside Phoenix.  It wasn’t exactly prime real estate but I liked it. I had started thinking about settling down with my girl, Mercy Vega, a pretty senorita with a mega-watt smile. Mercy was sweet and gentle but she wasn’t afraid to speak up for herself.  I liked that about her.
        “I want to get married and have a baby, in that order,” she said, “You’ve got ‘til the end of the year to put a ring on my finger or we’re through.” 
 Breeder/Ivory Simone
         “Don’t start sweating me about getting married, Mercy,” I told her, “You already know it’s in the works. Hell’s bells, woman, you’ll get your ring soon enough.” 
          I’m a man of my word. If those damned slugs hadn’t started burrowing from their underground colonies into our world, Mercy would have a ring on her finger, a baby on her hip and another one on the way right now.  Correction. Mercy has a ring on her finger and a baby on her hip—it’s just not my ring or my kid.
        “Hey, Trey, my man, got a job for you. I know you’re planning on leaving early today but this shouldn’t take long,” it was Jimbo Merks, one of the dispatchers, hailing me on the company PDA.  “We got a low power warning on one of the grids in sector 8.  There’s nothing out there but desert.  It’ll probably be a quick fix.  Maybe just a reboot of the Sector 8 mainframe.”
       “Didn’t know you cared so much, Dumbo,” I said bringing up the Sector 8 grid on the PDA screen. A low power warning was flashing in that sector,                 “Next, you’ll be inviting me over to your house for Sunday dinner.” 
Jimbo was one of those guys who wasn’t happy unless he found a way to get under your skin. 
        “I don’t want to you to be late for Mercy’s daughter’s christening. Must feel awkward showing up as the loser godfather instead of the proud papa. ”  
            Breeder/Ivory Simone
        “No ass wipe, awkward is me telling your wife to suck my cock faster so she won’t be late with your dinner. ” 
       “Hardy-har-har, motherfucker, “ he said, “At least I’ve got a wife. Maybe you should take lessons on how to satisfy a woman from Mercy’s husband—Chico, Rico, Paco, or whatever his “beaner” name is.”
       “You’re a redneck loser, Jimbo,” I replied matter-of-factly, it was too bad the web-cam application on my PDA was broke because I wanted to see the look on his face when he heard what I planned to say next, “ Hell’s bells that last kid of yours looks just like a brown-skinned “beaner”.  Maybe a “Paco” or “Chico” has been laying the pipe to your wife once I climb off her sweet ass. ” 
  “Fuck you, Trey. Keep your gutter thoughts to yourself,” he screamed into his mouthpiece, “Just haul your sorry butt out to Sector 8. ”  
        I was at the Triple T Truck Stop doing paperwork in the company truck when Jimbo called.  I wanted to get my weekly report into the electronic data center before the server crashed at 3:00 p.m.-- the approximate time the surge of reports coming in from the field service personnel, all of them professional procrastinators, usually overloaded the system. It’d be an hour or more before the server came back 
Breeder/Ivory Simone
online.  I figured if I beat the filing rush, I’d have no problem getting to little Alma’s christening on time. She was Mercy’s first child and she was a real beauty like 
her mother. 
  Ol’ Jimbo was way off the mark with her husband’s name. His name is Jesus.  He owns a bunch of taco stands in South Phoenix and, as far as I can tell, he’s a hard working, decent guy.  It’s not his fault Mercy dumped me. Our relationship was a casualty of my job.  
  Once the company got involved in the government’s worm extermination program, they recruited linemen like me into the “special ops” unit by promising us hefty pay increases.  The paychecks were sizeable but we also went missing-in-action, MIA, from our regular lives for a few years as we fought an undeclared war with the subterraneans.  Nope, I don’t blame Jesus or Mercy for our break-up. I blame the worms. 
           The first wave of subterraneans showed up about 3 years ago. They literally burrowed into the bedrooms of families living in deserts throughout the Southwest.  They looked like giant earthworms; eyeless creatures with a large, circular opening on one end of their stumpy bodies and a long protuberance on the other end.  One end worked like a mouth, sucking in earth and rock. A thick, oily, black goo, a kind of “worm poo”, we call “puava”, came out of the other end. Scientists using specially designed drones discovered the subterraneans line all the tunnels they create with this foul-smelling stuff. 
         Breeder/Ivory Simone
   Initially they thought puava was used for two purposes, as a lubricant to make it easier to slide across the rough tunnel surface, and, as a scent trail for other worms to follow.  We now know puava is a far more complex substance. It contains billions of bits of information in chemical combinations that worms can decode but our scientists can’t.  Puava is an organic communication network. I think of it as liquefied brain matter because everything a worm knows is contained in its shit.
The first wave of subterraneans died within minutes of breaching the earth’s surface.  Other than terrifying hundreds of desert dwelling families, these big, dumb creatures were viewed as a nuisance once it became clear they didn’t pose a threat. Some environmentalist and global warming fanatics theorized the worms emerged because the earth’s core was heating up, forcing them to seek relief near the cooler surface layers.  Other scientists said the worms were sick and became disoriented like the beached whales we’re accustomed to rescuing.  The worms’ carcasses were dissected in a search for answers but no new information was gleaned from the effort.
One person did sound an alarm about the possible threat posed by the subterraneans. It was a black professor from a no-name-university down south.  She wasn’t even a research scientist just a smart woman chasing her own ideas about why the worms were emerging.  Professor Doretha Magett pointed out that the worms were only appearing in hot, desert environments near heavily populated
                                                                                Breeder/Ivory Simone
 areas.   This led her to infer there was a strategic purpose behind the locations they were choosing.  
“Once you start thinking in terms of strategic deployment, you’ve got to acknowledge you’re dealing with a highly intelligent species.  My question is why are these creatures emerging near heavily populated areas?” she asked in numerous postings on the internet.  
   Most reputable scientists accused Professor Magett of being a nut case trying to make a name for herself by exploiting people’s fears.  I pulled out a map and studied all the places around the world where the worms had emerged and concluded she was right.  These so-called dumb worms weren’t appearing in sparsely populated desert regions nor did they appear in places that were humid, cold or even temperate.  They seemed to prefer dry, hot regions near cities with lots of people. No one listened to Professor Magett until much later—when the second wave of worms emerged.   
   Sector 8 is several miles off the interstate highway. I wouldn’t call it deep desert but it’s far enough away from the city to be considered isolated. There used to be a couple of derelict trailer parks in the area. They were abandoned once the second wave of worms emerged.    
                                                                    Breeder/Ivory Simone          
The low battery light was near the grid close to one of the abandoned trailer parks.   A place called “Dry Ocotillo”.  Something was draining the electricity from the grid in that area.  Probably some desert vermin burrowing too close to one of 
the underground power lines. It was my job to find out what the problem was and repair it.  
              I pulled into the deserted parking lot, turned off my truck engine and reached in the back seat to grab my canister of liquid nitrogen. The one sure way to kill a second wave worm is to spray a bit of “nitro” on it. I didn’t expect to find one in sector 8 because the electrical grid all around the area was blazing hot.  Besides, the place was abandoned, there were no young females for them to grab.  
        I was about to open my car door when I saw a scantily dressed young woman walking toward ramshackle manager’s office.  
       “Miss. Miss, “ I shouted, flicking my canister nozzle “on” and scrambling out of the truck.  The young woman froze in her tracks.
       “What are you doing here?” I asked.
She looked maybe 18 or 19 years old; a fresh-faced brunette with green eyes and a lean build.  She was wearing a bikini top and a pair of shorts.
        “I live here with my father,” she said.
        “You live here with your father?” I said in astonishment, “Don’t you know it’s not safe to live this far out.  I mean, I know the electrical grid stretches out for miles into the desert but you still shouldn’t be out here. Where’s your father?”
       “Right behind, you,” I heard him say. Then the lights went out.
Breeder/Ivory Simone
          When I woke up, I had a splitting headache. I tried to touch my head but discovered my hands were handcuffed behind my back. My feet and legs were bound together with duct tape.   A balding, middle-aged man was comforting the girl who was sobbing into his chest.
         “There, there Emily, don’t cry. I didn’t hit him very hard. He’s going to be alright,” he said.
        “No thanks, to you, “ I managed to say, “What’d you hit me with—a sledgehammer?”
        “I merely tapped you on the head with a skillet,” he said motioning toward a black cast iron skillet sitting on a table in the middle of the room.
        “Okay, so what gives?” I said getting to the point, “You know I’m here to fix the grid. Why’d you hit me in the head?”
        “I hit you because I can’t have you interfere with our little experiment,” the man said.
         “What weird thing do have going on with the girl, Mister,” I demanded to know.  
         “This is my daughter sir—well she is my daughter of sorts,” he angrily replied, “Emily go outside and wait for me. It’s almost time for you to go.”
           Emily wiped the tears from her face and smiled at her father.
          “Okay, daddy,” she said. She gave me a sad smile and walked outside leaving the two of us alone in the office.
Breeder/Ivory Simone
          “Mister what are you doing out here alone with your daughter? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” I asked.
           “Of course, I do,” the man replied, “But it’s the only way I can finish my project.  I’m waiting for the worms to take Emily.”
          “What! Waiting for the worms to take your daughter!” I screamed, “You’re insane!”
          “Maybe I am,” he said smiling oddly, ” But I’ve come this far and I’ve got to see 
it to the end.”
          “Take the handcuffs off me. Let me take you and the girl out of here,” I pleaded, “You don’t want to give your daughter to the worms.” 
            I pulled on the handcuffs but there was no give.
           “Stop trying to escape. I promise to release you once Emily is gone,” he said reassuringly.
          “You must understand, I made Emily for only one purpose, to fulfill her destiny as a super breeder,” the man said.
           “Do you hear what you’re saying?  You’re sick partner. Very, Very sick!” I said with disgust.
          “I know how it sounds,” he continued, “But I don’t give a damn what you think about me.”
          “However monstrous I might appear. I’m doing my part to save all of us from a terrible fate,” he insisted.
    Breeder/Ivory Simone
           I took a hard look at the man. He seemed desperate and frazzled, as if he was holding onto what remained of his sanity by a thin thread. I decided to try a different tactic. Maybe all he needed was someone to listen to him.
          “Alright. Let’s pretend you’re not crazy. What’s your story, Mister?”
          “My wife Marybeth was one of the women taken by the second wave of subterraneans. Most of the women taken were between the ages of 16 and 25. My wife was 39.”
           “A lot of people lost wives, mothers, sisters, daughters, girlfriends during the second wave. If you lost your wife to the worms why would you give them your daughter?”
           “I’m trying to tell you why, “ he said plainly irritated by the interruption,” Like I said my wife was one of the few older women taken. I started digging around, talking to the families of other older women snatched by the second wave. I discovered all them were receiving fertility treatments. The doctors had harvested several healthy eggs from Marybeth and we were about to do in-vitro, when she was taken, “ he said.
           “Okay. What’s your point,” I said impatiently.
           “Meaning all the older women were taking estrogen shots to increase their egg production.  The worms must have detected the high estrogen levels and thought these women were super breeders,” he said excitedly.
The second wave of worms came at night. The large carrier worms broke through the surface and vomited out birth sacs containing fully developed second 
Breeder/Ivory Simone
wave worm soldiers.  Each worm had hundreds of stubby little legs to lift it off the ground and make it mobile.  Several retractable, arm-like appendages with huge pinchers instead of hands and fingers came out of openings in the front of its body. A large compound eye, covered by a clear, bubble-like membrane, protruded from the center of its head.  A smallish mouth cavity, filled with thousands of strands of a fibrous material akin to skin, was located below the bubble eye.
       Instead of puava, the worms released a powerful neurotoxin through the protuberance in the back of their bodies. The neurotoxin caused a temporary paralysis in most people but in some instances it permanently paralyzed or killed them. Once the targeted subjects were disabled with the neurotoxin, the soldier worms spread out looking for young women of a certain age.  
Whenever one was found, the unfortunate woman was encased in a sticky gelatinous substance spewed from tubes inside the worms’ mouths and carried away. 
        As in the first wave, the large carrier worms died shortly after reaching the surface but the soldier worms were able to survive for several hours above ground.  They took hundreds of terrified, paralyzed females back underground with them in the first series of attacks.   
Some of the soldier worms were wounded in skirmishes with humans or ran out of air and died before they could return to the tunnels. The dying and dead second wave worms provided valuable new information to our scientists.  What they learned turned Professor Magett into an international celebrity.   
Breeder/Ivory Simone
         First they stated the obvious: the worms are highly intelligent creatures; then they told us a lot of information we didn’t know before.  It turns out the subterraneans have a collective consciousness. What one worm learns all the worms learn.  Each worm is always aware of what’s happening within the entire colony. They also have incredible regenerative capabilities. The captured wounded worms had already begun regenerating new tissue to replace the damaged parts of their bodies. This was a very important point to me. It meant just because a worm appeared to be dead after you pumped it full of bullet holes, it wasn’t. The thing was actually in a deep resting state, a period of suspended animation, healing itself.  
Weapons such as guns, knives were useless against them because of their regenerative capabilities.  Living close to the earth’s core also made them impervious to extreme heat so fire wouldn’t harm them. Scientists said, after careful analysis of their anatomy, the most effective weapons to use against second wave worms was extreme cold and electricity. Both of these powerful forces of nature destroy them. 
        The government put this information into immediate use and rolled out a worm extermination plan using extreme cold and electricity as tactical weapons.  Tasers on steroids and portable liquid nitrogen cannons were developed for military personnel. Equally effective but less powerful prototypes were made available to civilians. 
       The undeclared worm wars had officially begun.  
Breeder/Ivory Simone
       What alarmed a lot of people was the scientists’ consensus that the second wave worms showed signs of genetic engineering. They were referring specifically to the worm’s external appendages, the neurotoxin protuberance, the gelatinous mouth tubes, the bubble eye and, most significantly, the primitive air sacs that allowed them to breath oxygen. In fact, it was the failure of these underdeveloped air sacs that ultimately killed all the captured second wave worms. 
       Our scientists concluded the appearance of all these specialized body parts couldn’t have developed through the normal evolution of the species. Someone or something had introduced these mutations into the basic worm DNA of the carrier worms to create an attack force that could operate above ground.  It made us all shudder to think what they were doing with the females taken to their colonies.
     After the first series of attacks, the government made a map of every worm tunnel that led to the surface. Eager to prevent future worm incursions to the surface, military advisors considered the use of nuclear weapons to destroy the subterranean colonies but quickly ruled it out for fear such a powerful explosion set off near the earth’s core, would cause its plates to shift resulting in massive earthquakes and tsunamis all around the globe. 
Breeder/Ivory Simone
       Sending armed troops below the surface to attack the colonies was dismissed as an option because all the military advisors said it was better to fight the subterraneans above ground where we had the advantage—for the moment.
       A three star general named Connie McCabe came up with the idea of deploying “special ops” units comprised of military personnel, scientists and civilians with special skills to so-called “hot areas”; places sensors and other sophisticated tracking equipment indicated might be the site of a new worm attack.   
       General McCabe, as part of his strategy, decided to install underground electrical grids in the target areas to force the worms to surface at locations away from the cities and people. 
    “ We’re in charge of this conflict. Let’s make them bring the fight to us,” he said.
    So the military sent out a nationwide call for experienced linemen. Western Pacific Electric Company, my employer, saw an opportunity to make easy money by contracting with the government to provide experienced linemen for the “special ops” units. When the company dangled a fat check in front of my face, if I joined a “special ops” unit, I took the bait. It was sucker’s bait. 
I only took the money ‘cause Mercy and I were planning to get married. I was gonna be a family man and I wanted to build a decent nest egg for our future. In the end, I got the money but lost my girl—like I said, it was sucker’s bait.     
“You’re telling me,, I didn’t catch your name,” I said.
                   Breeder/Ivory Simone
        “I didn’t give you my name and I’m not going to,” the man said, “So finish your thought.”
         I gave him a look that let him know I’d like to wring his sweaty, scrawny neck.
        “You’re telling me that you think the reason the worms grabbed all those women is to use them as breeding stock?” I asked.
         “Come on, don’t act like you hadn’t thought about it. We’ve all speculated about the reason they grabbed mostly young women of childbearing age. I’m just saying it’s not the women per se they want, it’s their eggs,” he said sounding irritated with me yet again.
         “What are you some sort of “wacko” medical doctor or “mad” scientist,” I asked.
          The man laughed. It was a genuine laugh that made his eyes light up for the first time.
          “I guess that’s what I’ve become but I used to be a highly respected geneticist. I worked for a global agricultural company developing disease resistant crops that I hoped might one day end world hunger,” he stated proudly.
          “You know, my Marybeth was a classical pianist who played for the Phoenix Philharmonic Orchestra. What a magnificent woman she was,” he said with such sadness I even hurt for the guy—just a little. 
He began sobbing and making weird “hiccups” noises.
                  Breeder/Ivory Simone
        “Mister, look at you,” I said gently,” You’re falling apart. You’re not cut out to do this …this…horrible thing to you’re daughter.”
 He stopped sobbing and wiped his face with his hands. 
       “I’ve got to be strong for Marybeth and …for all of us,” he insisted.
        “I cloned Emily from a frozen embryo belonging to me and my late wife. She’s my genetically altered daughter,” the man explained, “She’s my Trojan horse. My revenge against those filthy worms for destroying my life; for taking my beautiful, sweet, gentle Marybeth!”  
         “How’s this revenge plan of yours supposed to work?” I asked.
         “Once I figured out it’s the human eggs they’re after, the plan hatched itself, so to speak,” he said excitedly.
          “You see women are born with a finite number of eggs, possibly a million at birth but by the time they reach puberty only 400,000 to 450,000 are left. Those damn worms came to the surface to harvest human eggs. They were looking for women who had high egg counts,” he shouted pacing the floor back and forth.          
       “You don’t know that for sure, you’re just speculating,” I countered.
       “Maybe I am. Professor Magett and I may both be speculators who happen to be right.”
       “I’d like to know what you think they’re going to do with the eggs?” I asked. 
       I was beginning to find his “looney-tunes” thinking interesting.  
     The man sighed heavily, “I don’t know. Maybe they want to experiment on human zygotes or study our DNA to make more deadly soldiers or maybe they want to create a special breeding program to produce an army that can fight on the surface. I personally think the worms want to get rid of us so they can live above ground,” he said. 
        “If that’s true, how do you propose to stop them?” I asked.
        “Emily was born with twice the number of eggs the average female has at birth. I tweaked her adrenal gland, too, to help her mature faster.  Plus, she gets daily shots of a special growth hormone I developed for ripening crops. Of course, the formula had to be modified.  She reached puberty a couple of months ago with at least a 1,000,000 viable eggs. Over the past month, I’ve been blasting her eggs with low dosages of radiation from an X-ray machine I rigged; it’s enough radiation to cause chromosomal damage. “
       “Whatever those monsters are up to, I’m going to throw a monkey wrench into their plans. When the first bunch of sickly, deformed cretins make an appearance in the colony, they’re going to have to try to figure out what’s happening. I’m banking on the fact they don’t know a lot about the human DNA yet.  They won’t know whether this is the type of crap we humans carry around in us or it’s just a bad batch of eggs. It’ll slow them down, Maybe make them think twice about invading our world. It’ll buy us time to get ready.” 
       “To get ready for what?” I asked.
       “The third wave,” he answered solemnly.
        “Okay, Mister, I’ve listened to your story, very patiently, I might add, ” I said with a forced smile, “Now don’t you think it’s time you let me go?”
        I rattled my handcuffs.
                          Breeder/Ivory Simone
     “Any time now. They’ve been watching her,” he said looking out the window at Emily.
     “How do you know that,” I asked alarmed. 
      I looked around for my canister of liquid nitrogen. It was in the opposite corner of the room.
      “I’ve got a military grade ground sensor. I’ve been monitoring the area. They’ve been watching her every since we arrived, two days ago,” he said.  
      “You forget this whole area is electrified. They’ll be killed trying to break through the surface,” I reminded him.
        “You don’t understand how much they want the eggs she’s carrying. The government’s worm eradication program has been very successful.  They haven’t been able to snatch any new women since the first series of attacks. If my theory is right, I think they’ll be willing to fry a few soldiers to break through the electrical grid to get their prize,” he predicted.
          Suddenly, we heard a blood-curdling scream coming from outside. It was Emily. The man ran to the door, opened it then closed it back.  He stood there frozen; listening to the sounds of worm feet running across the ground outside.
         “Daddy!” Emily screamed then there was silence.
         “It’s done,” he said in a voice so soft it was barely audible. 
         He was trembling uncontrollably.
         “Now what?” I asked.
                                                                                                                    Breeder/Ivory Simone
        “Now I’m going to take a nice, long walk into the desert. I’m going to keep walking until I drop,” he said.  
        He tossed me the keys to the handcuffs. They landed within easy reach of my hands.
       “Once you’re free, if you want to call the police. Everything you need to know about me and Emily is in that knapsack near your liquid nitrogen canister. I’ll remove the car battery cables I attached to the electrical line I dug up. I’ll make sure it’s reburied before I leave. Check you PDA in twenty minutes.  Everything will be back to normal,” he said. 
       Then he opened the door and left.          
       I managed to free myself in about fifteen minutes.  I grabbed by liquid nitrogen canister, found my PDA sitting on the table next to the skillet, grabbed it and ran outside. The trailer park was deserted. It was as if Emily and her father had never been there.  
       I checked my PDA and just like the man promised, the power reading for Sector 8 was back to normal.  I started walking back toward the Manager’s Office to grab the knapsack so I could telephone the police. Then I remembered little Alma’s christening. I looked at my watch. If I stayed and waited for the police, I’d miss it. I thought about my dilemma for a second or two. 
          “Fuck those worms, “ I said. 
                                                                                Breeder/Ivory Simone   
           I walked to the company truck. I climbed in, started the engine and I drove to Phoenix.
Comment by Author: Rory M Smith on November 3, 2010 at 10:32pm
Take a look at my new superhero that going to be in my new Sci-Fi book, King Clayshon the Freedom Maker. The book well be out in 67 days. The art work is It's all most done by artis Darryl Matthews. There well be seven Sci-Fi books about King Clayshon, so take a look at the superhero.
Comment by william landis on November 3, 2010 at 8:27pm
understood just thought it would be an option. how about for the second printing then.








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