The Omega Seed Read online

  Chapter Twelve

  The End?

  New York City

  "Attention, people of Earth. We come in peace to rescue our progeny, who you call the Omega which you have condemned and persecuted out of your ignorance and hatred. Hence, as a result of your continuous callousness, even unto all of your fellow man, the Intergalactic Federation of Civilized Cultures has adjudged this planet's species as incorrigible and therefore abandons you to your eventual, contemptible, self-imposed destruction. Take heed in your corruption, your attempted passage to the stars will be denied. Your poisonous defilement shall be contained."

  The message reverberated in Ito's ears, as well as those of every other occupant of New York City. The transmissions of Aurora 17 and her sister ships each blanketed ten square miles, penetrating walls and subterranean concrete without producing auricular damage. Worldwide, all television and radio channels were overridden with the message and had been repeated thrice in their respective native languages. Far above in the stratosphere, two hundred personnel landing craft broke formation, leaving their core-mother ships behind to begin sweeping Earth's four quadrants. As the PLC's descended, the nine starcruisers hovering over their respective targets generated fixed, deep indigo-blue transporter beams - silver flicks swirled inside as crews were lowered to assist the trapped Omega prisoners.

  "Cosmic swine," Ito seethed and muttered to himself. "Just wait until I get to Washington. I'll blast their slimy butts off the face of this planet! How dare they broadcast and dictate their doctrines to me!" He was enraged, "And just where is my transportation? I am the most important man in the world! I've been waiting fifteen minutes now. As the Commander of Earth's defenses, I should never be kept waiting!"

  A firm Rap! Rap! on his office door. "Enter!" he snapped. Yamoto sat tersely, a briefcase in his lap, impatiently waiting for a driver to whisk him to the Kennedy Airport Heliport and away from the enemy's annoying warship overhead.

  Instead, a Secret Service agent entered with an entourage consisting of two U. S. Marshals, the Japanese to America ambassador and last, the Secretary General of the United Nations. Ito held in check his old habit of jumping to his feet and bowing to a higher authority. He casually rose, trying to appear gracious within the power of his esteemed position, "Gentlemen, thank you for coming to bid me a suitable farewell. Yes, this is an appropriate send-off indeed. However, a driver and one guard would have been adequate and more efficient."

  "Greetings from the President of the United States," conveyed the S.S. agent.

  "Were you leaving New York, Mister Yamoto?" asked the Secretary General.

  "Why yes." Puzzled, he asked, "Aren't all of you my escort?"

  "In a manner of speaking, we are, Mister Yamoto," stated the Ambassador. "These two marshals will accompany you to the airport and travel with you to Tokyo."

  "Tokyo?" repeated Ito. "Sorry, but you are mistaken, sir. I am going to Washington to set up my new headquarters in the White House. It has become necessary to move due to..."

  The ambassador raised his hand and abruptly cut him off. "No! It is you who is mistaken." He sputtered in distaste, "Your services are no longer required, Mister Yamoto. Operation Omega has been terminated and your commission of serving as a major has been withdrawn. You are no longer a representative of the Imperial Japanese military and you are being deported to Japan to face murder charges of hundreds of individuals."

  "That is correct, your insidious Omega operation has ended," concurred the Secretary General. "The rest of the Governing Board and myself are most thank-full that President Merriweather and his Cabinet chose to ignore your attack orders and avoided a nuclear catastrophe which would have killed millions of innocent people."

  "What!" sputtered Ito. "Let's get something straight here. First of all, those so-called, hundreds of individuals you alluded to were merely worthless peons... even worst... they were undercover enemy agents. Eliminating subversive terrorists is part of my job. And secondly, Merriweather can't ignore my order. I am in command here... everywhere... the entire world! Have you people gone mad?" Searching their faces, "Oh-ho, I see it now. It was the devious alien broadcast. That's the root of this stupidity isn't it? They scared you and the faint-hearted American president, didn't they? Don't you see the alien transmission was all lies! It's a conniving trick, nothing more." He screeched, "Am I the only one able to fathom the enemy's villainous treachery? We must depart... no, escape New York City as soon as possible - it will soon become a primary target. We must destroy the alien invaders while they're right in the palm of our hand!" His neck reddened, he raised a clenched fist and shouted, "What's the matter with you fools?"

  "Do you mean undercover enemy agents like the crew aboard the International Space Station?" refuted his ambassador.

  "The I.S.S. crew?" Ito waved his hand in dismissal, "Collateral damage, nothing more." He smiled, "It happens all the time."

  "Enough of this insanity, Yamoto! Cease this outrage," hissed the Ambassador. "You are beyond an embarrassment. You and you alone, nearly drew the world into an interplanetary war in which the Earth could have been annihilated. Just what ever possessed you to think the visitors were hostile to begin with?" He didn't give him an opportunity to counter, "Do not answer! Be silent. Our country cannot bear your further disgrace."

  "Don't tell me to be quiet," shot back Ito. "This is ridiculous. The enemy cannot defeat us, if you have a strong heart and true courage. Why can't you understand this?"

  The Japanese Ambassador had enough, "I told you to remain silent. I will have you gagged if necessary." Yamoto simmered and chose to decease - for the moment. The ambassador then apologized to the Secretary, "My entire country is most grateful for President Merriweather's recognizing Yamoto's perilous instability and for his wise intervention before irreparable damage occurred. The people of Japan humbly beg forgiveness for his actions." He bowed low at the waist, "We fervently hope someday you will pardon our shame."

  The Secretary answered, "No apology is necessary and please bear no shame, Mister Ambassador," then quickly turned and addressed Ito. "The Governing Board of the United Nations agrees with President Merriweather's evaluation and I have been fittingly directed by said members to relieve you of your position of Acting Deputy Chairman of the World Security Council. Consider it done."

  "Mister Ambassador, sir, I also convey our sincerest regrets on the behalf of my colleagues in the United Nations for the erroneous placement of this demented man in a position of such responsibility. Gentlemen, this, the most distasteful duty I have ever endured, is hereby concluded. Please, sirs, would you please remove this vile, repugnant so-called person for deportation... to face his all too well- deserved prosecution?"

  Ito's enormous ego had been instantly crushed and it fell around him in shreds. He mumbled as he was being led toward the door, shuffling along, "You people are in error. General Guevara, that pig... this is his fault, not mine." His face began to twitch as he remembered, "Fools, they called me a major. How dare they? I'm not a lowly major; I'm the Supreme Commander of the Earth..."

  Steering a dazed Yamoto by the arm down the hallway, the agent remarked, "Supreme Commander? I haven't heard that one before. Say, Mister Supreme Commander," he quipped, "perhaps you should consider a new vocation. Humm... do you know how to make Sushi? Maybe you could be the Supreme Sushi Chef for the prison."

  Mecca, Saudi Arabia

  Mehrdad Iravani and his uncle Sai'd, standing shoulder to shoulder in a crush of one hundred of their kinsmen, jostled to watch a wealthy relative's portable, battery-powered TV positioned on the open, door-drop of the man's pickup truck. Iravani's clan had camped two miles from the walls of the Holy City now besieged by ten million devout pilgrims, all anxious and waiting for Mohammed to descend from heaven and carry the chosen (each of only them) to Paradise. Three times a day, at the Calling of the Faithful, the Ayatollah Khorramani appeared at the east rampart, led the masses in prayers, then returned inside the Great Mosque to await the a
rrival of the Blessed Prophet.

  Sai'd shook his nephew roughly, "My eyes are not what they used to be child. What do you see?" The audio had been turned up full tilt but no one could hear above the heavy drone of the crowd's murmuring and curses. They were hot, tired, hungry and very vocal regarding their discomfort. Not much in the way of provisioning had been brought and even less contributed by the Iraqi in Bagdad - per the orders of their embattled Governing Assembly who had just barely allowed the thru passage to their long despised neighbor, the Iranians, and even more begrudgingly permitted their own citizens to join in the frenzied exodus.

  Mehrdad reported, "A large black ball is hovering over the political prison in Tehran. The news commentator says no one can get close to the facility, a transparent barrier surrounds it. He says about twenty people have floated up within a swirling blue light and disappeared inside the floating sphere."

  "Why don't the guards shoot them if they are escaping?"

  "There are none, uncle, only prisoners. The television newscaster said the inmates were abandoned, left to starve in their cells. All the guards are here."

  "Sounds like a just treatment for the law-breakers to me. I shall not be concerned." Sai'd then dramatically raised a hand in a moment of prophecy, "Mohammed will destroy the vile wrong-doers and their magic flying ball with a bolt of lightning when he arrives. I have spoken."

  A deafening roar, millions of voices screamed in rapture. "The Prophet... Blessed son of Allah... Mohammed... He comes!" Choruses of, "Deliver me. Allah be praised! Take me, me, me!" as countless entreating arms and fingers excitedly pointed at the descending chariot in the sky.

  A black personnel landing craft swooped down to a height of three hundred feet above ground, shot out its antigravity beam and sucked up a subject, then moved to another location. It looped and danced all over the Mecca countryside, zigzagging to and fro. The crowds cheered when it drew nigh and plucked another person from their midst then became deathly quiet when it left - without them. The Ayatollah and his aides waved frantically from his balcony for the ship to come and retrieve them, to no avail. Was His Eminence to be the last delivered for a special reason? Perhaps, to give a parting blessing or advice to the wanting, abandoned sinners?

  After completing over a hundred extractions, the spaceship finally positioned itself over Mehrdad's campsite. The beam flashed down again, this time encircling a beaten young woman lying prone on the ground not more than a thirty yards from Sai'd. As the woman was being drawn up, a dozen men rushed into the base of the blue light. She kept going, going, gone - passing through the bottom of the vessel. The men howled and pushed each other for better positioning, hopping up and down trying to jump on the next ride up to Mohammed's chariot. The beam extinguished and the PLC moved to another spot, leaving the men mute, frozen in place.

  Finally, one exasperated pilgrim shouted, "This is wrong! I know the girl taken. She is strange, not as us. The bitch should have been stoned to death years ago like we did the other witches. She is no better than the simplest-minded woman. She can not be a favored one!"

  Which induced rage in another man, "You say the Prophet of Allah errs? You shall speak no more, Satan worshiper!" He whipped out a scimitar knife from his waistband and slashed the speaker across the throat from ear to ear. The recipient fell, floundered in the sand and soon drowned in his own blood. There was no dissenting outcry from the crowd - the blasphemer deserved his fate. A third man in the previous circle also became loud and indignant, "I haven't been chosen either. This is wrong!" He reasoned, "There must be an infidel in our midst and Mohammed stopped taking the Faithful because he was repulsed by the man's uncleanliness!" Studying the encircling onlookers, the group spotted a person they didn't recognize, a poor soul from a different quarter of the city, not of their clan. "There! He is the one! He is the defiler! The Prophet left because of him," and the entire campsite pummeled and chopped the hapless fellow into pieces. Similar scenarios and actions occurred at every PLC retrieval site.

  After a dozen more extractions the landing craft streaked straight up, out of sight - never to be seen again, leaving behind hordes of angry, un-chosen followers.

  The TV blared accounts of rioting and bloodshed at almost every major religious shrine worldwide, but no one listened or cared about the authorities' pleas to desist. Here, in Mecca, the male pilgrims were nothing if not realists, it didn't take them long to deduce their beloved Mohammed did not intend to return: they would not sipping sweet wine with their beautiful, virgin brides in Paradise and instead they'd soon be starving in a hostile, foreign country while their abandoned homes were being ransacked and looted by the common street beggars they left behind to die. A riot ensued, followed by a stampede to return to whence they came.

  Note: One month later, every Muslin country in the Middle East was embroiled in a violent civil war. No party honored their previous alliances or treaties, not even with their long-standing, inter-marrying clans.

  Back at the mess hall

  "Rosita and Francine say it's safe to come out and play now," Lisa had read their minds. "C'mon, Mommy and Daddy. C'mon, Mason," as all the children ran, laughing and giggling from the mess hall to join their friends. Doctor Fairchild and Armstead watched in alarm; Irene and Woody - surprised but permitting; they were fully aware Lisa could detect danger better than they could. She and the other two children possessed more abilities than anyone, even the older adults and the children's senses had continued to develop and sharpen from month to month in spite of their stressful incarceration.

  The parents cautiously followed to behold a most wonderful sight! Mothers and children, freed from their shackles, were twirling and dancing, their faces were radiant in delight. Tony, Mason and Bernard's family gaped in wonder while the other Omega with them immediately understood the situation. A tear of happiness trickled down Irene's cheek.

  An aura of soft white light radiated from the walls of an invisible force-field encompassing the three pit areas and mess hall. Outside, twilight had fallen. The Airborne troops mulled around, poked the barrier's pliable yet impenetrable surface and watched the spectacle inside with curiosity. Now unchained, the thousands of former prisoners were being led out of the pits by white-clad crew members from the starcruiser. The bulldozers had been tossed on their sides like discarded toys by the spaceship's tractor beam. Dozens of scattered attentive groups surrounded the aliens who were explaining the options and conditions of their immediate future. Jubilant families rose in the transporter beam and disappeared inside the starship. There was no hurry, no sense of urgency or uncertainty, only exuberance.

  Lisa returned, bubbling with excitement. Mason scooped her up into his arms, "How's my beautiful, little sister?"

  "Good, good." Hugging his neck, "I like having a big brother." Woody and Irene embraced them both, Tony looked on, apart in body but sharing the warmth of their spirit.

  An eight-foot tall, middle-aged alien man and a slightly shorter woman, both with friendly, enlarged eyes greeted them with a sincere, "Welcome" and introduced themselves. Fairchild, the ex-specimens, Nashota and Bernard's clan gathered around the pair, curious and eager to learn everything they could about these mystical strangers.

  Their particular spaceship originated from the planet Pollux in the Gemini triad, part of a multi-ethnicity, human fleet sent by the Intragalactic Federation of Civilized Cultures to rescue and relocate the endangered remnants of the Omega, their seed who landed on Earth thousands of years ago. The man told them those who wish to leave Earth would be taken to Ventura, a nitrogen/oxygen class world in the Andromeda constellation. There were at present, seven colonies flourishing in a progressive, nineteenth century lifestyle. "You, the new settlers would constitute the eighth." There were no weapons or disease and all spoke the same dialect: Comspeak, the universal tongue of the twenty-one, human worlds within the Milky Way. This new language, orientation, and much more would be implanted in their minds as they slept en route to Ventura and nothing would b
e erased or altered from their present memories. He added, "Further corrections of your anatomical functions will be made during the two week journey. These changes will extend your lifetime to two hundred years and permit your latent, extraordinary abilities to begin developing."

  Several aliens presented, "The planet Ventura has a current population of six hundred thousand. It is beautiful, slightly larger than Earth, with half the oceans and four hundred thousand fresh-water lakes. The land mass is a pure, unspoiled wilderness, filled with non-threatening wildlife." He chuckled, "Sounds almost too good to be true doesn't it? But it is, and if at the conclusion of a one year's residency, you're not happy and you want to return to Earth, it shall be arranged. We are pleased to report not a single, relocated colonist has ever asked to be repatriated with their planet of origin."

  "This," pointing overhead, "is one of our ten starcruisers gathering the fifteen thousand Omega prisoners who have been unjustly incarcerated in secret detention camps located all over your planet. Also, two hundred other ships, personnel landing craft from their four host pods are in the process of retrieving an additional sixty-four thousand families scattered-about, in hiding. The gathering and transfer will take eight days to complete. You must decide by then whether to become a pioneer of a new world or remain. If you elect to stay, we will relocate you on this planet but cannot insure your protection or a future rescue.

  "What about us?" questioned Bernard. "We're not Omega, is any consideration or the invitation being extended to us too?"

  "Yes, it is. In your particular situation, screening has cleared your family and you are most welcome. I must inform you, because you're not of the original blood line, we can't guarantee a life span beyond a hundred and twenty years. Your bodies will begin a natural, disease-free degeneration after age one hundred. Is that acceptable?"

  Her children being able to live a hundred and twenty years in a paradise, his wife was ecstatic! Bernard viewed the indigo antigravity beam with unbridled envy which slowly changed into somberness, "Sorry, I hate to put a damper on this, but are you aware we ordinary Earth people, unlike your fellow Omega, harbor all sorts of dangerous diseases? As much as I'd love to be spirited away, I wouldn't want to transport a germ and be responsible for wiping out an entire planet with an outbreak of something silly such as chicken pox."

  "Thank you so much for your kind consideration, Bernard," returned the woman. "Your attitude regarding mankind's well-being weighed heavily in your approval for selection. We fortunately, have learned how to eradicate most of your illnesses during the last hundred years. Please observe the spinning silver flecks in the tunnel; those particles will purify you of every known communicable disease. Plus, once inside you will lie down and pass through a horizontal tube - similar in structure to your current m.r.i. machines, which will cure sub-dermal malignancies such as blood disorders, degenerative heart disease and cancer."

  "My God," marveled his wife.

  "No," responded the alien. "This is medical science; it has nothing to do with God. Belief in an Almighty is a separate issue which is accepted or denied in private by each individual within the Federation."

  One of Bernie's children wearing coke-bottle sized eyeglasses scooted over to the man and tugged on his leg, "Can you fix my eyes, mister?"

  The alien dropped to one knee, "Not with the transporter flecks or tube because you have a retinal defect." Smiling and rubbing the boy's head, "But we can easily repair the problem with a different painless, noninvasive procedure. You'll be able to see better than new."

  Another child, "Can I be a giant like you?"

  "No, but each of your generations will grow taller until you have reached your full potential, as we have.

  A recently freed teenager asked, "We just heard on the radio you traveled through a Black hole to get here. Is that true?"

  "No, we used what you call a Worm hole. Black holes and Worm holes utilize the same physics postulates. They are magnetic tunnels through space. Simply put, the Blacks connect galaxies; the Worms provide passage within a single galaxy, like traveling inside your own Milky Way."

  "Cool," returned the teenager.

  "Not really," returned the alien. "Neither type of Hole has a temperature reference point. They are positive and negative poles - temperature is not involved"

  "Err, okay. Thanks," said the youngster. They were not exactly on the same page - most teenagers never are.

  The Pollux citizen then addressed the adults, "If you have other immediate family members who you feel are worthy and would want to be a part of this extraction, please let us know by tomorrow and we'll fly you to them and back. However... be warned... they will be fully screened and they may not qualify. Keep that in mind. Next... and how about you, Antony Fairchild... or you, Joshua Nashota?" hailed the Pollux speaker. Would either of you consider our invitation?"

  "Thank you for your most generous and gracious offer," answered Tony. "But, I choose to remain here."

  Turning his direction, "Mister Nashota?"

  "I, also choose to remain." He explained, "I came to help free the Innocents. The Omega and you have been part of our Native American lore for centuries. We have received many messages from dreams and visions."

  "That's because there are still active Omega genes within what you call DNA, informed the woman. "As we speak, many of our PLC's are gathering such persons around the world and offering them the choice. We're sure there will be many of your natives among them."

  "Also, my people, the Navajo, have instructed me to sue for peace with you."

  "Joshua, your heart must surely know we came and will depart in peace. But we fear, with just cause, the people of Earth will not react with kindness to our visit and rescue. We hope when you return to your tribe you will explain the truth of our intentions... and to all Native Americans."

  "I shall, and thank you." assured Nashota.

  The alien pair nodded in understanding and informed the now liberated prisoners that once they have passed through the force field they could not return. Tony studied the soldiers on the other side, "And the sooner I'm on my way the better. They're going to hold and debrief me for at least a week, that's standard military procedure."

  "Debrief?" Mason seized his arm and thought of water-boarding and mind penetrating drugs, "Will you be safe?"

  "Yes, I'm sure of it. The proverbial cat is out of the bag. The whole world knows what's going on here." The TV news crews began arriving thirty minutes ago. "The less damage the military inflicts now, the less they have to answer for later."

  Mason hoped Tony's reasoning held up, yet had a scowl on his face and fretted, "I wish I had enough time to tell you everything I've learned and experienced in the last week. I hate to see it lost. I know you would be fascinated and perhaps be able to put the information to good use.

  "Lisa can help you," advised the Pollux woman. Leaning toward the child, she placed the girl's tiny hand on her own forehead. "What do you see, Lisa?"

  Her big blue eyes grew wide, "I see Ventura. Mommy, Daddy, it's so pretty!"

  Stepping back, "Your little girl is a Channeler, a rarity even among the existing, most highly developed telepathic species. Thanks to offspring as Rosita, Francine, Lisa and your own genetic repairs, many future generations of Venturians will enjoy near-full telepathic abilities. Tony, come here please; physical contact is necessary," and gently placed Lisa's palm on his and Armstead's forehead. "Concentrate, Mason. Open your mind to Doctor Fairchild." (from chapter two)

  Armstead's irises turned black and Tony stiffened as billions of information bits in a white haze poured from Mason through Lisa to himself. In no more than a minute, Fairchild broke away - feeling saturated. He steadied himself by holding onto Woody's shoulder. "I believe I'm all right. Wow! Virtual reality video games can't match this." Shaking Mason's hand, "Thank you so much for the sharing, sir. I'll begin documentation as soon as possible. This answers so many questions which arose while I was searching for the origin of diverse languag
es and civilization, per se. As soon as my interrogations conclude, I'll resign my commission and take a vacation with my family. Our first stop will be London to look up your friend Henry Hollyfield. He sounds like a very interesting character," then added with a wink of the eye, "but not as interesting or exciting as Elke." Mason had unknowingly passed on his feelings for her also.

  "Elke?" Mason, jolted to the fact she wasn't present. Could she still be shackled and in the pit? "Oh, no, I must find her!" He whirled around to begin a search, and there she stood a short distance away, watching and waiting quietly - wanting Mason to fully enjoy his reunion with his long-lost family. "Elke!" he exclaimed with joy and rushed to her.

  She appeared slightly embarrassed and replied in a low voice, "I didn't want to distract you during your private moment."

  He hugged and kissed her. "You would only make it more special." With his arm around her waist, he led her back to meet the others - his mother first.

  Beaming with pride, "Mom, Woody, Lisa, everyone, may I introduce Elke, my very good friend." The inference was understood by all.

  The male Pollux crew member accompanied Tony to the edge of the force field. The troopers on the other side backed away cautiously, not knowing what to expect and a little intimidated by the towering alien. Tony looked at him in a serious manner, "Being a healer, it breaks my heart not to be able to take some of your marvelous medical technology with me. I could save lives and alleviate so much suffering."

  "I understand your concern, Doctor Fairchild, but we can't permit that. In fact, we're still rather new to Earth-type medicine even though we've made great strides in the last hundred years. Unfortunately, the problem of which you can be most assured, is that the power utilized in our instruments would soon be altered and be directed against your own mankind. Our technology would be used to create greater and more horrible weapons. Your world's end is already on the horizon... we shall not be contributory in hastening it. I hope you understand."

  Tony reached for the transparent barrier which shimmered like a translucent sheet of water. His fingers passed through and an "Oops," escaped him. Turning to shake hands and say goodbye, the man from Pollux placed a folded piece of paper in his outstretched hand. "What's this?"

  A soft smile, "You're a good man, Antony Fairchild... for an Earthling. Good luck," as he spun about and left.

  Tony read the outside lettering: The cure for male pattern baldness. "Well, I'll be dipped." He chuckled and stuffed it in his pocket.

  Assembled at the outside base of the transporter beam, Mason addressed the waiting assembly, "I feel I should say something witty or momentous about ending our dwelling here on Earth and beginning a new journey, but suitable words escape me. Instead, I ask we bow our heads for a moment of silence in respect for those who perished in our quest for freedom." Each within his own reflected - mostly in appreciation and gratitude for Michelle DeBlois-LeBlanc who sacrificed her life so many would live. At the conclusion, Mason glanced up at the silver starcruiser and observed a couple being beamed up.

  He turned to Elke and proclaimed, "I am not afraid anymore." His two childhood fears had been overcome. "I'm ready to go," content he had done his best to be a peacemaker among men. Speaking to the alien pair who first welcomed them, "Would we be too heavy if we all joined hands?"

  The duo gladly gave their approval, saying, "Unity and family is the foundation of true civilization."

  Carrying Lisa in one arm, he kissed the child's cheek and extended his free hand, "Mom, Woody, Lisa... my family... Elke, my love, let us go into the light."

  The End or the Beginning?

  Epilogue

  It was the spring of 2666. The last two people on Earth had finally succumbed to the harsh, relentless hundred-year nuclear winter. A man named Mada and a woman, Olla, both nomadic foragers roaming the Euphrates and Tigris river banks where it all began, now lie crumbled beside the still waters in death's merciful sleep. Then, as if by a miracle, the sky's pink radioactive curtain dissipated. Glorious, golden-white sunshine washed the world's ravaged surface and the Earth's healing began.

  Space is infinite, eternal, yet defined. Intelligent life evolves, expands, learns, progresses and even then, on some occasions - is rejected.

  Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it. Also available for your entertainment today is: Twisted All To Hell, an exciting short story collection of supernatural, horror, science-fiction, supernatural and paranormal. You'll be happy you read it – guaranteed! Read The Bonus.

  F.Y.I: I don't write to make money - I write to entertain you.

  And... hopefully, knock on wood - to be available in late 2015 or early 2016, The Time Doctors' Chronicles. Two doctor/scientists jump back in time in an attempt to correct present day horrific living conditions caused by alterations previously made by other unknown factions in the American Revolution, the Civil War, World War Two and finally, Armageddon.

  J.E. Moore (John)

  [email protected]