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If the Earth is destroyed, avenge us....

After a thousand years, the descendants of dead Earth are determined to fulfill the mission entrusted to them: avenge the Earth and the human race.

It is also the love story of an alien girl born of a kinder, gentler society and a man born of a people who have been at war for a thousand years. It is the military story of the determined assault on a fortified position, of space firebases, cyberspace warfare, defensive walls of black holes and antimatter.
And it is the story of Yad Vashems, sentient computers fighting to be free, Von Neumann factories, bridgeless starships, logical computers, defeated enemies held captive near the speed of light for billions of years, virtual reality seduction, genetically engineered warriors fighting for and against those who created them, mad computers, genetic projections, battle spreads and a little girl who walks with Adolf Hitler and works on her Death Call for the day when she will fall in battle.

THE EARTH WILL BE AVENGED is the story of a society tormented because it has not yet obeyed the command of its ancestors: avenge us.


(Ian MacDonald brings a young alien girl onto his starship....)

A fraction of a second past, they'd been in the Abonsai street. Outside the restaurant. In near darkness. Now they stood on a mirrored plain with the heavens about them. It was as if a giant had tossed handsful of the purest diamonds onto a black velvet canvas and they'd stayed there.

She'd covered her face with her hands as if afraid of being blinded by all that magnificence. Now she slowly lowered them. Her eyes were still wide, her brows up almost to the top of her head. Her mouth hung open, unaware of the irresistible picture she presented.

She turned in a small circle, mouth still agape, as she stared at the starry void all about them. Then her eyes were busy picking out the squat, blunt-nosed, beveled-edged, black objects floating in the night of space all about them.

"Those dark things--they are Star King ships?"

"Right," he said.

"So many. So beautiful--in an ugly sort of way. Like black jewels. Why are they all black? Abonsai ships--we do not have many--but they are silver."

"Stealth tech."

"Do you know their names?"

His finger moved, he pointed them out. "The Winston-Salem, the Tokyo, the Mexico City, the Mogadishu, the Jerusalem. . . ."

"Such strange names." She tore her eyes from them to look at him. "You say them so sadly. What do they mean?"

"They are the cities and towns, rivers and mountains, countries and oceans of Earth. Star Kings name their ships after them so that as long as their ships live, those places will not die."

"And the name of this one?"

A rectangular picture, as high as she was tall and twice that in width, appeared before her, so real he could see she had to restrain herself from trying to reach in. Dark-skinned people, with hair that looked as if it had been knitted, ran, sat, played, laughed. A black girl and boy walked hand-in-hand past buildings of brown and grey stone. Older kids raced back and forth bouncing a brown ball and putting it in metal circles at either end of the large outdoor area surrounded by a high chain-linked fence.

"The Star King of this ship named it after a place of his people on the Earth, a section of its greatest city. He called it Harlem."

She nodded. "Harlem. A beautiful name."

"As long as this ship lives, it lives."

(The terrible truth about the coming battle....)

"You mustn't let my family scare you," he said when they were walking together alone. "Many of us haven't seen each other in ten years. And we're here tonight because we will attack the MOTU homespace." He nodded solemnly, to himself more than to her. "We make brave sounds, but deep down . . . we're all scared to death. It will not be an easy thing to do. Many will die."

"Then don't do it," she said without thinking.

He stopped abruptly and swung around to face her. He looked at her with those deep rich brown eyes. She had never seen or heard him so serious.

"However long it takes, whatever the cost, the Earth will be avenged."

(Eve of battle....)

He walked the hall lined with the pictures of his people's past: Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.--after whom he had nicknamed his niece Troublemaker, the 54th Massachusetts, Nat Turner, the Buffalo Soldiers, the Civil Rights Marchers, the Harlem Hellfighters of the 369th marching up Lenox Avenue after their return from France, the soaring red-tailed fighters of the Tuskeegee Airmen, the Black Panthers in berets and black leather jackets holding their rifles aloft....

He nodded to himself. The Harlem would not fight alone. Men and women of the distant and not so distant past would be with her in spirit.

Finally he turned away.

Time to fight.

(And the battle. The alien girl Karea, now his wife, watches....)

She shook her head; tears continued to run from her eyes. How could they keep on? Deadly, savage carnage. The Death Calls kept coming. The Santa Barbara, the Nagasaki, the Rome.... Two rings penetrated, a foothold being held at all costs. More reserves pouring through--like a knife into the heart of the MOTU defenses. But then the wound closing, overwhelming the Star King ships that had fought their way through. Confusion reigned in the displays as the opposing forces fought ferociously at close quarters. But a massive surge of MOTU battle groups....

One thing sure: horrible losses on both sides. They were anihilating each other. But worse for the MOTUs. But who knew for sure? Everything was jumbled. Confusion everywhere. How could anyone keep track of it all?

The battle-net coordinated the Star Kings well. Messages flashed constantly as Ian moved his forces around like a master chessplayer or a matador deploying his cape and sword to best advantage against the powerful, deadly MOTU bull. The comps automatically made adjustments, carried out plans--new and old, put overwhelming power on key points--no matter how well defended.

She watched as the Star Kings took point after point. But each one cost them. How many could they afford to lose? How much could they endure? Seemingly the MOTUs could keep going forever. If anything, their resistance increased in intensity. The toll on both sides was heartbreaking.

She blinked to clear her eyes of her tears. She clasped her hands and tried to shut out all the Death Calls except one--and hoped she would never hear it. As long as she didn't, she could go on. If she did hear it, she too would die.

Oh, God, make them stop. Please make them stop.

For they couldn't. A thousand years of running and hiding and dreaming of revenge wouldn't let them. They would do it or they would die.

She looked at the screens, at the scintillating mass of MOTU space, at the raw energies being unleashed there, but she could not see any longer because her tears clouded her vision.

She feared they would all die.

Including Ian.

Ron Brown, black private eye, to head off a race riot, must find a black man's killer in a black/Jewish neighborhood in 1979.


In the far future, when the game of chess has spread throughout the galaxy, at a time of tension between the human race and other species, humanity's champion, the African American Sam Mist, despite a broken heart, assassination attempts and being off his game, must beat a mindreader, an empath, a being who has never lost a game, a player whose God whispers moves to him, a creature with a billion bodies but a single mind and ten other assorted entities to win the first chess championship of the universe.


The Moral Majority runs the country and extramarital sex is punishable by death. Decoys infected with the lethal-within-24- hours sexually-transmitted Sex Death virus seek out transgressors and sleep with them. But a sex agent has fallen for a designated target and both have to run for their lives. Only a daring medical experiment can make it possible for them to consummate their love.

Works in progress:

Tell My People....


Born in a far universe, she knew nothing of her people, their civilization or even their language or customs. With no one to back her play, she always fought alone, outnumbered, outgunned and out-teched. But hers were the genes of a warrior.


She lay shattered, dying. Alone. Defeated. Surrounded by her enemies. She looked up into the cowled face of the humanoid woman bent over her who had come to hear her last words. With her final breath she said, "Tell my people--"
"No," the woman said.
"Please ... tell my people--"

(I thank the author of the following blurb


Earth was gone ... and with it humanity. But the last desperate defenders of the human race were still alive, regrouped in outer space, and restructured. All the ages of civilization culminated in that final act of defense and revenge--all science, art, and the lore of warfare were distilled into the new men, who called themselves defiantly the Star Kings.

The galactic history of the Star Kings, they who come after mankind, is the essence of this panoramic novel. It is a novel of the decline of one galactic civilization and the rise of another--one geared first to destroy, then to colonize, finally to rebuild on a scale that would know no boundaries, recognize no barriers, and establish new goals beyond the scope of any planet- bound race.

Crown of Infinity is a novel of limitless imagination that can only be compared with the sagas of Edward E. Smith, Olaf Stapledon, and the daring days of "classic" science-fiction.

A handful of survivors launched themselves into the great sea of night....


[Warning: Strong language]

A story of sex and vengeance....
of friendship and the things that test those bonds.

Of two men who were the best of friends
and two women who were the best of friends
who met one night--
and things were never the same.

The Characters:

Sable Brown:

Twenty eight years old, never married, three children, the oldest, a girl, fourteen. She has been used and abused physically, psychologically and sexually by black men all her life. A high school dropout, she has clawed her way off of welfare and out of the ghetto. She has no use for black men. She is determined her daughter will not make the same mistakes she made and that no black man will take advantage of her.

Raven Jones:

Her lifelong best friend and cheerleader. A party girl, she has done everything and has no regrets. Over the years, whenever Sable needed help, she was there. She is blunt and loud but always speaks the truth.

Montgomery Jackson:

A businessman, he is determined to lead his people out of the darkness:

"We have been tempered as no other people, forced to endure a testing of our resolve and spirit for four hundred years. The only thing we lack is belief in ourselves. And after four hundreds years of slavery in the land of the free, after four hundred years of being lynched and terrorized by cowards in the home of the brave, after having every hand against us, including Hoover's FBI, how can we not believe in ourselves? We will overcome."

Tony Tally:

Drugdealer. Elemental. Tall, wide, handsome, lean, mean, a fucking machine. Determined to succeed any way he can. Takes nothing from no one. Montgomery is his best friend and there is nothing he won't do for him. But he believes in retribution, so when Sable Brown insults him, he plots his revenge on her.

Only to find Montgomery Jackson stands in his way.


Tony Tally and Sable Brown:

(Setting: Sable's suburban home where Tony Tally in his arrogance and belief that no woman can resist him has come uninvited)

"I don't have no time for no street scum trying to run some game.... I don't need no low-down, no-good dirty nigger in my life.... A black man ain't shit! I moved out of the ghetto to get away from people like you and to keep them away from my children. Get the fuck out of my house!"

Tony Tally and Montgomery Jackson:

(Setting: a playground in Harlem where Montgomery coaches kids)

"What!" Tony turned sideways, his fists tight, his eyes tight, focused on Montgomery. "What did you say?!"

Montgomery spoke slowly, clearly, so each word was distinct and unmistakable: "I said, for-get Sable Brown."

Tony cocked his head like he hadn't heard right. He raised a hand and pointed a finger at him. "The bitch called me a low-down, good-for-nothing nigger. Nobody calls me that and don't pay. No woman--no one. No fuckin' way."

Very quietly, calmly, Montgmery said, "This once, make an exception."

Tony looked at him, searched his face for a long long time. "The woman didn't even want to talk to you!" he shouted, angry, frustrated.

Montgomery shrugged.

Tony threw his hands up and paced like a caged lion. He suddenly swung back to Montgomery and raised his fist again. It shook as he spoke. "If it was anybody else, I'd tell him to go fuck himself. Go fuck himself! I don't just walk away from no bitch who thinks she's too good for me."

He whirled away from Montgomery, walked out of the playground to a garbage can on the curb. He picked it up and hurled it at the nearest car, smashing in the front window.

"Motherfucker!," he screamed at the windows fronting the playground, opening his arms wide in challenge, "I broke your window--come down and do something about it!"

Montgomery Jackson and Sable Brown:

(Setting: a restaurant)

She sat back in her chair, choosing her words carefully before she spoke them. "You're so different. It would be hard to imagine the two of you as friends if I didn't know you were."

"Why?," he asked, puzzlement clearly in his voice. "We grew up on the same block, went to the same worthless ghetto schools, had the same friends, chased the same girls...."

"And yet you're like hot and cold."

Montgomery shook his head. "I see very little difference between us."

"You're a businessman--he's an ex-pimp and now a drug-dealer. And I know his kind."

"What's his kind?"

"A man to who thinks of women as things to be used ... any way he wants."

He couldn't help smiling. "Sounds like Tony all right."

"Then how can you say there's no difference."

He sighed. "I've used women too--not because I particularly wanted to but because they allowed me--any man--to. When I don't take advantage of such ... opportunities, someone else will--and possibly somebody more ruthless. When it comes to black women, he who hesitates or shows mercy is left out in the cold."

"You don't really believe that."

"I believe in reality, in what people do. Not what they say, not what they claim they think or believe in, but what they do--and allow you to do to them. And black women will allow you to do almost anything to them."

She half raised a hand from the table as if she might argue with that or wanted to hit him, but controlled herself and didn't, deciding to stick with her main subject..

"He's your friend ... but there's nothing he wouldn't do--no matter who it hurts. I don't like him, I don't trust him and I don't think you really know him."

Montgomery shook his head in disagreement again. "You're wrong--I know Tony. You're right--he is ruthless. But for a male, growing up where we grew up, that was an asset."

"You're not ruthless."

Montgomery smiled. There was a little sadness in it. "How would you know? As for trusting him, when we were growing up, I learned to never trust or believe anyone--except Tony Tally. In a fight, there was always one guy I knew who'd be there watchin' my back--Tony Tally. And I know one thing now: If something happens to me, somebody's going to have to reckon with Tony Tally."

But Tony Tally finds a way to get even.....

(Setting: A bar in Harlem)

Out of sight of the others, Tony turned and faced him. "So what's buggin' you?"

"Sable says you tried to pick Faye up on her way from school."

Tony blinked indifferently. "I offered her a ride, man."

"I told you to lay off."

"You said leave Sable alone."

"I shouldn't have to tell you that meant her daughter too."

"Oh, come on now--

"No, you come on!" Montgomery barked, getting in his face.

"You weren't even interested in her--and if I hadn't told her about you--like a fool--built you up--she wouldn't even know you're alive!"

Montgomery--lightning quick--grabbed Tony by his lapels. "Like you told the guys outside, Tony, don't ... fuck ... with ... me."

Tony looked down at the hands on his clothes. He raised his own hands and gently tugged Monty's hands loose, took a step back and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I don't like this shit."

"I don't like it either," Montgomery said.

"Why the fuck do I always have to step aside for you?"

"Because we're friends."

"What the fuck does this have to do with that?"

"Two things--one, a friend doesn't mind doing a friend a favor. Two ... if you weren't my friend, you'd be dead."

"You don't understand," Tony said, as if just now sensing how serious Montgomery was.

"What don't I understand, Tony? That you want to fuck Sable and her daughter? That if you could, you'd have them giving blowjobs on 42nd Street and Eighth Avenue? What's so damn difficult to understand about that? I understand that and I understand you and I understand me. The one who doesn't understand is you--and you better hurry up and understand 'cause I am losing my patience."

"Women are just holes to put your dick in, man. Why you want to fight over a couple of goddamn holes?"

"You the one who's forcing the fight."

"If I don't fuck 'em over, somebody else'll fuck 'em over."

"Maybe, but you not respectin' me. I can't let that go."

Tony squeezed his eyes as if in pain. Finally he took a deep resigned breath and let it out. He nodded. "You right, man. I been so hot to get even with that bitch, I can't even think straight no more. I apologize. It's strictly hands off." His eyes searched Monty's, looking for forgiveness.

Montgomery looked back at him, searching the eyes of his friend. He'd always been honest with him. Finally he nodded, giving him the benefit of a doubt and relaxed. "Okay."

Tony put out his hand.

Monty took it.

They shook.

But there is more betrayal to come ... from the least expected quarter.

And a conclusion you will never forget.


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Links of interest:

Black Street Fiction (A collection of more down-to-earth black fiction.)