gns.theplutopact-第30部分

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to　his　feet；　but　Jane　and　Sarah　had　moved　on　ahead。　They　were　lost　to　his　view。
　　
　　Soon　he　found　himself　out　in　the　street　again；　where　an　even　larger　queue　had　formed　awaiting　their　turn。　A　sudden　shout；　and　bowed　heads　lifted　in　unison。　A　man　rose　up　amidst　the　praying　throng…a　ragged　vagrant；　his　tattered　garments　exposing　glimpses　of　grimy　skin；　an　almost　skeletal　hand　held　aloft。　His　face　was　hidden　amidst　a　mangy　beard；　so　that　it　was　virtually　impossible　to　determine　his　age。　His　high…pitched　voice　was　rising　to　a　frenzied　crescendo；　eyes　blazing　insanely；　his　mouth　was　a　toothless　cavity。
　　
　　'Fools！'　he　yelled。　'Do　you　not　realise　that　this　is　the　Day　of　Judgement…the　long　awaited　day　that　Balzur　prophesied；　when　Pluto　shall　e　to　claim　his　own　。　。　。　to　take　us　down　into　his　fiery　underworld；　where　there　is　nothing　but　eternal　agony！'
　　
　　A　gasp　of　horror　rippled　through　the　congregation。　A　woman　began　screaming；　a　child　crying。　Then；　with　unbelievable　agility；　the　speaker　leaped　away；　hurdling　the　cringing　people　in　his　path　until　he　was　lost　to　sight；　his　shrill　warning　still　echoing　in　their　minds。
　　
　　Silence。　Except　for　the　monotonous；　apparently　unmoved　tones　of　the　Reverend　Mortimer　as　he　shuffled　between　the　rows。　Take　eat　。。。　this　is　My　blood　。　。　。　'
　　
　　The　opposite　pavement　was　deserted。　Coyle's　eyes　scanned　it　for　Kent；　but　there　was　no　sign　of　the　Londoner。　Out　of　this　teeming　mass　only　Kent　had　not　turned　back　to　God。　He　would　see　it　through　on　his　own；　right　up　until　the　end；　whichever　way　it　went…an　atheist　and　a　fatalist。
　　
　　Coyle　debated　with　himself　for　some　minutes。　His　wife　and　daughter　had　doubtless　gone　home。　He　could　follow　them；　but　he　knew　he　would　not　be　wele。　Alternatively；　he　could　roam　the　streets　in　search　of　Kent。　In　the　end　he　decided　to　go　back　to　his　office。　He　could　prepare　some　copy　for　an　edition　which　would　probably　never　reach　the　printing　presses。　At　least　it　was　something　to　do　until　Anne　returned。
　　
　　As　he　moved　slowly　away；　an　armoured　truck　rounded　the　corner　and　drew　up　some　fifty　yards　away　from　the　packed　churchyard。
　　
　　The　military　were　taking　no　chances。　For　firmly　held　between　two　soldiers　was　the　miserable　tramp…like　figure；　now　silent　and　subdued。
　　
　　Canverdale　spent　the　rest　of　Sunday　attempting　to　list　his　new　duties　in　order　of　priority。　Everything；　of　course；　was　a　priority　nowadays…especially　with　the　unexpected　three　degrees　rise　in　the　radioactivity　pressure　gauge　earlier　that　day…but；　nevertheless；　certain　things　had　to　take　precedence。
　　
　　The　public　would　be　informed　on　television　at　the　end　of　the　evening's　programmes　that　the　Prime　Minister　（they　had　no　knowledge　yet　of　the　change　of　leadership）　had　another　broadcast　to　make。　That　meant　that　at　midday　on　the　Monday　the　coalition　would　be　officially　announced。　Canverdale　would　then　be　fully　in　charge。
　　
　　The　banks　would　remain　closed　tomorrow；　also　building　societies　and　post　offices。　That；　too；　would　be　announced　on　tonight's　late…night　news；　but　only　as　a　temporary　measure；　and　not　in　any　way　to　provoke　sensationalism。　He　decided　against　closing　the　stock　market。　Shares　would　crash；　obviously；　but　there　might　remain　some　spark　of　hope　if　he　allowed　trading　to　continue。　Likewise　the　foreign　exchange　market；　countries　abroad　must　not　presume　that　Britain　had　capitulated　to　the　disaster。　Bluff　and　stall…and　keep　in　constant　touch　with　Dyne。　He　sighed　with　relief　at　having　made　these　decisions；　and　fitted　a　cigarette　into　his　long　ivory　holder。　Flicking　his　lighter；　he　considered　some　other　factors。
　　
　　The　safety　of　the　public。　The　map　in　front　of　him　showed　the　sitings　of　special　shelters　for　use　in　the　event　of　nuclear　attack。　He　approved　the　efforts　of　the　Authorities　in　constructing　them；　but　there　were　two　main　drawbacks。　Firstly；　they　could　only　acmodate　a　small　percentage　of　the　populations　within　easy　reach　of　them；　and　secondly　this　was　no　ordinary　nuclear　attack。　It　was　not　a　case　of　one　or　two　atomic　bombs；　but　the　effect　of　thousands　of　them　exploding　simultaneously；　with　fall…out　ing　like　a　raging　blizzard！
　　
　　The　London　Undergrounds　would　be　packed　with　people。　Perhaps　there　was　some　way　of　filtering　the　ventilation　shafts　against　fall…out。　He　made　a　note　to　investigate　this　possibility　further；　then　added　another　concerning　the　length　of　time　it　would　be　necessary　for　people；　to　remain　below　ground。　He　envisaged　a　new　rat…like　population；　human　savages　existing　in　tunnels　of　squalor。　There　would　be　neither　lighting　nor　sewage；　nor　any　of　the　other　amenities　which　had　been　taken　for　granted　for　years。
　　
　　Finally；　the　main　decision　would　have　to　be　made　by　himself：　release　the　build…up　or　chance　an　explosion？　Die　above　or　below　ground？
　　
　　He　drank　yet　another　cold　cup　of　tea；　and　put　through　a　call　to　Dyne。　A　slight　sigh　of　relief。　The　needle　had　risen　only　one　more　degree　since　the　morning…the　expected　rate。　That　still　made　Saturday　D…Day；　and　the　needle　might　decide　to　jump　madly　at　any　moment。
　　
　　Hardly　had　he　replaced　the　receiver　when　another　call　came　through。　The　Sabbath　was　over。　One　day　of　respite；　and　now　Saturday's　madness　had　returned。　He　jotted　down　the　names　of　the　places　as　he　listened。　Notting　Hill。　Birmingham。　Wolverhampton。　Leicester。　Coventry。　Nottingham。　Bradford。
　　
　　'Alert　all　troops！'　Canverdale's　voice　was　weary。　The　order　was　superfluous；　but　he　could　not　think　of　anything　better。
　　
　　The　riots　had　begun　again！　It　was　the　desperate　rebellion　of　frightened　people　trapped　on　an　island　of　death。
　　
　　Canverdale　knew　that　he　would　not　have　the　chance　of　any　sleep。　Anarchy　had　forestalled　his　predictions　by　some　twenty…four　hours。　How　long　before　it　spread　to　other　countries；　whole　continents。　A　worldwide　holocaust　was　imminent！
　　
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　13
　　
　　Monday。　Again　Coyle　and　Anne　had　spent　the　night　in　the　office；　but　they　were　up　and　dressed　before　Kent　arrived。
　　
　　'What's　the　programme　for　today？'　Anne　enquired　as　she　adjusted　her　skirt。
　　
　　'Same　as　for　any　normal　Monday。'　Coyle　smiled　wanly。　'I'm　just　wondering　how　many　will　turn　up。　Doesn't　matter　really；　but　we've　got　to　make　a　pretence　of　some　kind　of　normality。　The　copy　I　worked　on　yesterday　can　go　to　the　type…setters。　The　printers　will　be　kept　fully　occupied　for　the　next　couple　of　days　with　the　parish　magazine。　I　see　there's　a　lot　of　forthing　weddings　in　the　next　fortnight。'
　　
　　'Poor　sods。'
　　
　　'Maybe　a　few　will　be　brought　forward。　Anyway；　it's　only　a　technicality。　A　few　words；　a　bit　of　paper。　Stupid　really；　but　that's　the　society　in　which　we　live。'
　　
　　'Bob'…she　hesitated；　met　his　gaze；　dropped　her　eyes…'Bob　。。。　we　are　。。。　you　and　I；　I　mean　。　。　。　we're　married　to　each　other；　aren't　we？　I　mean　。　。　。　well；　you　know　what　I　mean。　I'd　just　like　to　think　that　。　。　。'
　　
　　'Yes。'　He　slipped　an　arm　around　her　slender　waist；　and　drew　her　close　to　him。　'We're　married。　I　guess　bits　of　paper；　legal　documents；　have　lost　all　their　meaning　now　to　just　about　everybody。　Morally；　Jane　has　already　divorced　me。　Of　course；　I　shall　have　to　help　her　through　tomorrow。　It　will　be　a　difficult　day　for　all　of　us。　A　funeral　service　always　is；　but　this　type　of　memorial　service　is　worse。　People　feel　a　lot　better　after　it。　It's　a　sort　of　release。　Afterwards；　you　heave　a　sigh　of　relief；　shed　a　few　more　tears；　and　life　returns　to　normal。'
　　
　　Anne　fell　silent。　A　lot　of　things　worried　her。　After　the　church　service　on　the　morrow；　would　there　be　a　reconciliation　between　Coyle　and　Jane？　Perhaps　the　marital　ties　were　stronger　than　they　appeared。　Perhaps　Sarah　would　try　to　bring　her　parents　back　together。　And　what　if　all　this　business　up　at　the　reprocessing　centre　turned　out　to　be　a　damp　squid？　No　explosion；　no　radioactive　release。　What　then？　Had　her　own　affair　with　Coyle　escalated　to　such　heights　simply　because　there　was　so　little　time　left？　Under　normal　conditions　would　they　have　simply　remained　clandestine　mistress　and　lover　until　finally　the　affair　petered　out？　She；　too；　had　prayed　along　with　millions　of　others　on　the　previous　day。　She　had　asked　God　to　grant　her　a　pregnancy。　Whatever　happened　she　would　not　give　up　her　man　without　a　fight。
　　
　　Kent　arrived　shortly　before　ten　o'clock。　A　few　minutes　later　a　uniformed　man　in　a　chauffeur…driven　car　delivered　a　sealed　envelope　addressed　to　the　London　journalist。　Two　checkpoint　passes。　Coyle　noted　the　date　of　expiry…the　following　Saturday。
　　
　　'Maybe　they　don't　want　us　around　for　the　big　blow　on　Monday。'
　　
　　Kent　pocketed　both　green　cards；　picked　up　the　telephone；　and　was　through　to　Dyne　within　a　couple　of　minutes。　A　meeting　was　arranged　for　two…thirty；　no　delay　or　excuses　this　time。
　　
　　'Seems　like　we've　got　the　world's　most　important　press　conference　all　to　ourselves。'　Kent　laughed　as　he　replaced　the　receiver。　'All　those　other　silly　buggers　raced　back　to　London　with　their　red…hot　stories；　and　now　they're　not　allowed　back　into　the　valley。　I'm　hoping　Dyne　will　let　me　use　his　London　line　to　speak　to　my　editor。'
　　
　　Coyle　stared　out　of　the　window　across　the　untidy　yard。　Only　two　absentees　this　morning；　and　even　they　had　taken　the　trouble　to　phone　in　with　excuses。　Perhaps；　here　in　this　valley；　life　would　continue　more　or　less　as　normal　for　a　day　or　two…a　kind　of　isolated　sanity；　cut　off　from　the　violence　which　raged　elsewhere。
　　
　　He　phoned　Rollason。　The　Superintendent　promised　to　seek　the　help　of　the　military　in　keeping　the　crowds　away　from　the　church　during　the　twenty　minutes　whilst　grief　dominated　a　small　disunited　family。
　　
　　The　meeting　with　Dyne　was　a　mere　formality。　The　head　of　Oxide　Reprocessing　did　not　reveal　that　the　danger　level　had　jumped　an　unexpected　three　degrees　on　the　previous　day。　It　was　a　closely　guarded　secret。　If　the　public　was　to　be　warned　of　the　advance　of　Doomsday；　then　that　was　up　to　the　Prime　Minister。
　　
　　'The　initial　escape　of　radiation　。　。　。　'　Kent　made　an　attempt　to　establish　what　he　and　Coyle　had　discussed　earner。　'It　seems　quite　clear　to　me；　and　surely　to　others　too；　that　it　has　moved　out　of　this　valley。'
　　
　　'Yes；　it　probab