GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) Read Free Page A

‘Dinner!’
    Yes ! His mind leapt into action . Dinner was going to be a favourite of his— cheese burger s and chips! Scott ran down the stairs , almost drooling with hunger.
    ‘What were you up to , son?’ asked his mother.
    ‘Nothing much , Mum , ’ replied the boy.
    ‘When are you going to get a haircut , my lad?’ L aughing , she ruffled his thick , dark - curl ed mop.
    ‘Dinner?’ Scott smiled a little to himself , knowing that he had no inten t ion of anything like getting a haircut .
    ‘You can ask Cammy over to the house tomorrow night provided you tidy your room , ’ she granted.
    ‘Aye sure,’ Scott confirmed coolly, still with no inten t ion of tidying his hair or his room . Mum was a complete pushover. Scott attended to his food. His smiling face wiped away, transformed from delight to disappointment, losing all signs of coolness from his youthful composure . He stared at his plate in miscomprehension — boiled potatoes, silverside , and broccoli steamed up at him. ‘Aw , yuck mum!’ he cried. Tonight’s dinner was his worst nightmare on a plate!
    ‘Cheeseburgers tomorrow,’ she promised.
    Later that evening , Scott toy ed with a computer aided design project for school. He had already worked up part of a new wind-turbine system, attempting to increase the Betz limit and so reduce the overall costs of manufacture . A young rebel he was ; engineering science was one of his true interests , if not his passion , along with computer games, al though he had painted some outlandish graphic graffiti on the outer-structure sketch of the turbine, just to annoy his tutor .
    Afterwards, tucked up warm in his bed , Scott listened carefully as the wind outside began to rise , blowing through the deciduous trees over at the manse, scattering single leaves from near-bare branches and flying them through the air until they slammed against his bedroom window. The trees would soon be all nude . Pulling the covers up over his head , Scott drifted into a disturbed sleep.
     
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    As Scott walked to school the next morning the wind was still quite strong and breezy . B lack crows flew through the air haphazardly , pitching loftily above and then quite unpredictably diving down in steep swoop s , squawking as they fl ew past his ears. T he hand held school bell swung up and down , clanking metallic ally and waning in the gale as Scott walk ed aimlessly through the open iron-barred gates of the school , unperturbed by the mentors who wav ed with great urgency to all the stragglers.
    The school had been a primary school for many years but, due to the declining population of the village and subsequent decrease in school roles, most of the younger kids received their schooling from a much larger school in a nearby town . Scott’s school had been converted into a very successful grammar school for some of the area’s most talented young students. Located remotely in this secluded village, far enough from the media mainstream, seats here were very limited and only for a few exceptional or privileged students. This suited some well-to-do parents, who pulled strings to include their children, while other youths, like Scott, were simply of exceptional ability, and of course the educational body was obligated to provide a certain number of places for students who lived in the local community. They would all have to pay, of course. Scott was blissfully unaware of the personal sacrifices his mother made to keep him at the school.
    Like most other buildings in the area , the school was built with red sedimentary sandstone, mined from nearby quarries centuries ago. Stone mason ry was eviden t throughout the village , al though the masons’ fine skills and trade secrets were no longer in use . The majesty and intricacy of these projects have never been surpassed by today’s modern mode of construction . The main school building and outer stone structures bore enigmatic messages with detailed inscriptions