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A SAMPLE....

THE GENIUS

A NOVEL by

FRANK WESTCOTT

A PREVIEW of The Genius. Enjoy the opening below. Full novel manuscript length: 185,000 words. Copyright by Frank Westcott, 2007.

...the genius wept

The Genius wept and sat down next to his window. He turned away from the glass and cried, "It has all been for naught – it has been for this – for destruction – for the power of evil – I am a failure – I have let my people down – I, ME, the one – THE ONLY ONE – they trusted – It is OVER, Meladina – It is over."

And the woman, Meladina, placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "it is not over – my Racheldono, it is not over. Not by any means. It has just begun!"

A small boy played around the cistern, a well-like structure from the old days. A place where the people could come, and gather, and talk, and always find fresh, clear water. For the waters ran deep, and cool, and fresh, and clear to this cistern from deep inside the earth. No one ever found a trace of poison, or pollutants, or any unhealthy substance in these waters. They were pure and good, always. Much like the people thought of Racheldono.

An old man nodded to a friend there, now. He waved in the general direction of Racheldono’s office. He saw a shadow at the window, but couldn’t quite make it out. It might be the Racheldono himself. Or, it might be his wife, Meladina.

"He will not beseech us on this... He will not! Nor, will he betray! It is not in him. He IS THE GENIUS!

"Ah... You do not think he can be manipulated... or bought?" asked his friend, this younger, sterner one, they called Alecdon.

The older man, they called Raydon, straightened and became stiff. "He is The Genius..."

The other man, this Alecdon, slapped his older friend on the back. And shouted, "You are an idealistic old fool, old man!" And Alecdon sneered.

At this, the young boy at the cistern jumped. His head shot up and his neck became erect. And his black eyes stared at this Alecdon.

"See... Now... I have caused the young lad to become agitated... See how he looks at me!" Alecdon laughed.

And the old man nodded, knowing more than he would let on... seeing into the space between the younger man , this arrogant and careless Alecdon... And in this space, Raydon saw only the red of hate rising in the space that surrounded Alecdon. He put his hand on the younger’s shoulder, much as Meladina had, on that of Racheldono. But there was a difference. The old man’s hand did not comfort. Nor was it designed to. It was there to remonstrate this young, self-centered and arrogant Alecdon.... "You.......," And Raydon held his words... caught for a second in the gaze of his grandson, who still knelt on all fours by the cistern. Raydon looked into the steady black-eyed stare of this youngster, his descendant.... one who would carry on after him... He let his hand fall from the arrogant Alecdon’s shoulder...,"Never mind.... I cannot... I will not...," and the old man turned away and dipped a cupped hand into the cistern’s water that ran in a constantly flowing trough beside them.

"DO NOT TURN AWAY FROM ME.... OLD MAN!" Alecdon shouted.

And the baby’s black eyes narrowed and his gaze penetrated the space between them.

The old man turned at this, and held his head erect and high on his own neck speaking in a clarity of tone that could not be mistaken,"You are an arrogant, selfish, careless pup. Although I may no longer lead the Senate, I have connections still. You had better tread lightly, my friend.... or you will find yourself in some court in a far off land... you hate..." The old man glanced at his grandson and stepped right into Alecdon’s face. "Now... you go before I call for a guard to arrest you for treason..."

"Treason!" Alecdon shouted and laughed more with derision than with humor..."Treason.. For... for...?"

And the old man’s words came out slowly, and steadily, and full of power... a power he had developed and held after forty-two years in the Senate, "Treason against The Genius... is treason against the State. Mind your words... young Alecdon.. Or..., you will be shipped to that court.... faster than a donkey flicks a fly off its rump..." And, the old man smiled at this image, for in his day, he had flicked many young flies like this Alecdon, off his own rump. And he laughed in his eyes, but nowhere else. But, Alecdon was so pre-occupied with his own machinations, he did not see this twinkling in the eyes of the Raydon. Raydon flicked the fingers in one hand motioning for the impetuous Alecdon take his leave....

Slightly cowed, but not dismayed, Alecdon stepped away... and reached down to scruff the golden hair on the boy’s head. "It is not often we have a golden-haired boy born with black eyes.... Yours?" Alecdon said, raising his eyebrows... in mock question... but not mocking enough to incite Raydon’s well contained rage at the questioning of the lineage of his precious grandson, the Raydonquan: Quanossomo.

Raydon watched as Alecdon waddled in his flowing robes. He chuckled more to himself, than anyone else, and of course there was no one else present except for Quanossomo who had gone back to playing in the dirt by the cistern. Raydon wiggled his butt in mock motion imitating how he felt about the impetuous, yet slyly dangerous Alecdon. Quanossomo paused in his digging, and looked up with two year-old, but ancient, black eyes. Quanossomo smiled too, as if he understood the Raydon’s mood. Raydon’s eyes glittered and filled with happy water as he saw this, and said, "You are more aware than I give you credit for, my grand... no make that... my grandest son... Yes... that.... Quanossomo..."

And suddenly grief overcame Raydon... and his shoulders shook remembering and seeing his dear daughter sobbing over the prone, slain figure of her husband.... the white... blond-haired Arkonsiowan. No tear dripped from these briefly-happy-water-filled eyes. No. The Raydon would not allow that to happen. Not even in the privacy of his suite next to the Racheldono. Not even there. But he cried and screamed on the inside. And he trembled there and all through his body. "It was WRONG... WRONG... WRONG...!" he shouted inside himself... And his own voice gained a power and a depth... that made lesser men cringe in fear when he spoke in the Assembly.... "They will pay... Quano," he said softly, using the familiar Quano used by his intimates. Quanossomo had gone back to his digging, and seemed totally unaware of the Raydon. "It is time... young Quano... it is time... and they will pay...

Just then, the Raydon heard the faint rustling of a skirt behind him. He turned and saw the long dark hair of his daughter, Karondo, shining like the richest of ebony in the dark orange of this evening sun. He saw behind her where massive Mediterranean tree branches hung like nature’s umbrella’s over the rear buildings of the Residence. It is a good thing for the trees, the Raydon thought..., this residence would be unlivable without them. The thought passed and his whole being melted, as his beloved Karondo moved towards them. Karondo walked, laughing and gay and happy all at once. This turnaround delighted him. The Raydon held his grief for his daughter's loss well contained. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

"Hello father...," Karondo said."You are not watching Quano!" she admonished him lovingly..."Well! It is a good thing I have come to his rescue...! And protection..." And Karondo pretended to wield a shield and sword..."Yesa! Yesa!" she cried to the gods, laughing, and calling them to her defense...

But, the Raydon just smiled quietly in himself..., the gods, if they were listening or watching, would do no more than chuckle too, at the vibrancy of this young, nubile, playful daughter of his who had the stride of an athlete, the delicate hand and stroke of an artist, and the intelligence of well, maybe not quite a genius... maybe not quite that.... Must not exaggerate..., he admonished his own self... for that thought and smiled more, and on the outside, too. "If I didn’t know better, I would think The Genius himself sired you, Karondo..." And Karondo laughed with her father... Knowing that The Genius had always been infertile. Common knowledge. A tragedy for the State. But, her father said, and had always said, there can only be one Genius, Karondo..., it matters not that he cannot sire children... for we have become his cherished children...

And Karondo had nodded and understood... and known her father, the once powerful leader of the Senate, knew The Genius better than any man who walked the earth.

And Karondo lowered her head, in salutation and deference towards her father. She loved this man... more than any who came upon her countenance. He was true, like The Genius, but also had the cunning of the desert fox who ran in the night. A fox who could pull a chicken from a coop and leave no sign of its presence. A fox who could snatch a snake of the sands from its hole, seemingly without adding a ripple, or scuff mark, to the surrounding desert. Swift in its killing. Shrewd in its cunning. Eyes... brown, glistening eyes, always alert for sabotage, or the agendas riding in the hidden brought to him by others.

Her father was not as pure perhaps as, The Genius..., The One who mystified her with his rich blue eyes that pierced the very soul of a man, of a woman. And, she smiled at this. A small smile, for her head remained bowed slightly before her father...

And she knew, even though her father knew The Genius better than any man, no one truly knew The Genius. He was held in reverence by the people. And by her. He was a man, no doubt. And had manly passions and desires. Yet, there was that sense when you were near him, that he tapped into realms that only he could see. This used to frighten her. And she remembered as a young girl, prancing to her father who was in a heated discussion with The Genius. And her father ranted on..., his voice rising and full of energy..., fully in rapture of the moment, and his words... and the power of his own voice... And The Genius had rested his wide warm hand on her head, as her father continued his rant, oblivious to her presence. A blue light seemed to surround her in that moment. A clear blue, like the Mediterraneano on a good day, of which it had many. And she found herself warmed in this blue light. And a tingling ran through her that seemed blue also. And she knew, in that moment, as a child... that this man... this one they called The Genius was special.... Extra-Ordinary... she later learned the correct word in school. And she wrote that word often on her tablet, and on her books, and leaflets...., often absent-mindedly, unaware of what she wrote.

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