gns.theplutopact-第31部分

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r　to　me；　and　surely　to　others　too；　that　it　has　moved　out　of　this　valley。'
　　
　　'Yes；　it　probably　has　moved　away。'　Dyne　fidgeted　uneasily。　'However；　there　have　been　no　reports　of　contamination　elsewhere　in　the　country。'
　　
　　'So　we　cross　our　fingers　and　hope　that　it　has　just　evaporated；'　Kent　said；　'until　there　are　reports　of　people　breaking　out　in　festering　rashes；　or　birds　and　animals　dying　in　great　numbers　in　a　particular　area。'
　　
　　'It　may　not　happen　like　that。　Atmospheric　conditions　are　capable　of　reducing　its　density。　Obviously　the　Square　suffered　its　most　concentrated　form；　before　it　had　had　a　chance　to　disperse。　Fortunately；　it　happened　at　a　time　when　the　resident　population　was　absent。'
　　
　　'What　other　effects　might　it　have　on　animals…or　humans？'
　　
　　'Who　can　say？　Mild　skin　irritations；　blindness；　deafness　。　。　。　madness。　We　can　only　speculate。　It　could　take　years　for　a　person　to　succumb　to　it。'
　　
　　'I'd　like　to　phone　my　editor。'
　　
　　Dyne　nodded；　but　insisted　on　dialling　the　number　himself。　He　ascertained　that　he　was　in　touch　with　the　Chief　Editor　himself　before　passing　the　receiver　across　to　Kent。　The　conversation　lasted　less　than　five　minutes；　with　Kent　doing　most　of　the　listening。　After　all；　there　was　little　to　report　from　the　valley。　The　government　was　keeping　the　public　constantly　informed　of　events；　telling　them　only　as　much　as　it　wanted　them　to　know。
　　
　　'The　riots　are　the　worst　problem　at　the　moment；'　Kent　said　as　he　replaced　the　receiver。　'Bloody　full…scale　war；　but　fortunately　confined　to　certain　areas…so　long　as　the　army　can　contain　them。　Otherwise　it'll　be　total　anarchy。　There　are　rumours　in　Fleet　Street　of　US　troops　being　flown　in；　but　that　could　present　a　dangerous　threat　to　world　peace。
　　
　　Russia　has　made　a　similar　offer；　apparently。　Just　imagine　it；　American　and　Russian　troops　meeting　on　top　of　the　biggest　nuclear　bomb　in　existence。'
　　
　　'Rumours！'　Dyne　became　his　abrupt　self　once　more；　rising　to　his　feet　to　make　it　clear　that　the　meeting　was　at　an　end。　'That's　half　the　trouble　in　a　crisis　such　as　this。　Everybody　speculates；　particularly　the　press。　If　only　people　would　stick　to　facts　。　。　。　'
　　
　　Coyle　and　Kent　were　escorted　back　to　the　Mercedes；　and　drove　slowly　back　through　the　checkpoints。
　　
　　'Nothing　much　gained　there；　I'm　afraid；'　Coyle　muttered　as　they　reached　the　outskirts　of　the　town。
　　
　　'It　isn't　what　they　tell　you　that　counts；　it's　what　they　don't　tell　you。　You　have　to　learn　to　read　between　the　lines。　Danger　level　still　rising　at　the　estimated　rate。　But　is　it？　How　the　hell　would　anybody　know　except　them？　They　don't　know　where　the　escaped　radioactivity　has　gone；　however。　I'm　sure　of　that。　Our　only　means　of　munication　with　the　outside　world　is　through　battery…operated　radios；　transistors；　home…made　crystal…sets。　They　don't　want　us　to　see　television。　The　nearest　transmitter　has　been　temporarily　put　out　of　action。　Why？　I'll　tell　you。　Because　they　don't　want　the　people　of　this　valley　to　see　the　things　happening　outside。　It's　one　thing　to　read　or　hear　about　something。　Quite　another　to　view　it　with　your　own　eyes。　See　what　I　mean？'
　　
　　'Yes。　They've　got　to　prevent　rioting　in　the　valley　at　any　cost；'　Coyle　replied。　'They　can't　take　any　risks　of　the　centre　being　stormed。　That　might　set　the　whole　thing　off　days　before　its　time　is　up。　In　other　words；　they're　still　desperately　trying　to　buy　time。　By　letting　you　talk　to　your　editor；　Dyne　knows　you　can't　tell　him　anything　that　hasn't　already　been　officially　announced。　A　good　move　on　his　part。　I'd　love　to　be　able　to　bug　the　line　when　he　talks　to　Canverdale；　though。'
　　
　　Apart　from　one　valley　in　the　south…west　of　Scotland；　the　whole　nation　watched　the　ten　o'clock　TV　news。　Portable　sets　occupied　prominent　places　on　the　bars　of　crowded　public　houses；　hotel　lounges　were　crowded。　Without　a　doubt　it　was　record　viewing。　A　number　of　cities　were　covered；　brief　glimpses　of　the　after…effects　of　street　battles…the　damaged　property；　the　fires　still　blazing　despite　the　unceasing　efforts　of　local　brigades。　The　worst　scene　was　kept　until　last：　a　half…demolished　street；　army　vehicles　blocking　one　end；　an　inferno　engulfing　a　row　of　terraced　houses；　fire…engines；　ambulances；　blankets；　discarded　clothing　covering　huddled　corpses　yet　to　be　collected。　A　vicious　multi…racial　mob　having　been　forced　to　retreat　some　two　hundred　yards；　still　shouting；　hurling　missiles；　which　were　parried　by　riot…shields。　Half…bricks；　broken　tiles；　anything。　No　gunfire；　though。　So　far　the　rioters　had　not　been　able　to　obtain　weapons。　They　had　relied　upon　numbers；　but　in　the　end　they　had　been　driven　back。　Volatile　leaders　urged　the　hordes　to　stand　their　ground。　There　were　promises　of　guns；　and　already　crude　fire…bombs　had　devastated　much　property…bottles　half　filled　with　petrol　or　paraffin；　burning　rags　for　fuses。　Many　of　the　blazing　houses　belonged　to　the　people　themselves。　They　did　not　care；　they　would　fight　on　until　the　city　was　razed　to　the　ground。　The　army　would　not　be　able　to　hold　them　in　the　end。
　　
　　The　television　reporter　was　shielded　behind　a　reinforced　Champ；　a　relic　of　the　same　model　used　in　the　campaign　against　Rommel…with　a　Rolls…Royce　engine　which　was　why　it　was　still　in　use。　The　camera　crew；　however；　were　forced　to　expose　themselves　to　the　dangers　of　the　missile…throwing　crowd　to　obtain　the　most　spectacular　and　horrific　of　the　day's　events　on　film。　The　reporter…a　stubble　of　beard　on　his　chin；　eyes　red…rimmed；　clothing　smoke…stained…raised　his　voice　in　an　effort　to　make　himself　heard。
　　
　　'Rioting　began　early　yesterday　evening；　and　continued　throughout　the　night。　This　is　just　one　of　many　similar　cases。　Troops；　firemen　and　ambulances　have　fought　an　unceasing　battle。　In　this　area　alone　it　is　estimated　that　the　number　of　dead　exceeds　fifty；　the　wounded　many　more。　Military　casualties　have　been　slight；　but　it's　clear　that　these　mobs　have　no　intentions　of　letting　up；　and　the　cost　of　damage　is　already　into　millions　of　pounds。　Tonight　there　will　be　no　sleep　for　either　troops　or　auxiliary　forces。　However；　in　the　city　centre　itself；　today　life　has　continued　fairly　normally；　given　the　conditions。　Most　office…workers　have　reported　for　work　as　usual；　and　public　transport　has　been　operating　satisfactorily。　But；　after　another　night　of　terror；　it　is　doubtful　whether　many　muters　will　venture　into　the　city　tomorrow。　Gerald　Watson；　News　at　Ten；　Birmingham。'
　　
　　Monday；　11。30　p。m。　Canverdale　made　another　broadcast。　In　the　calmest　voice　he　could　muster；　he　advised　muters　to　stay　out　of　the　cities　on　the　following　day。　He　added；　hopefully；　that　soon　the　army　and　police　would　have　everything　under　control。
　　
　　The　moment　he　was　off　the　air　he　fitted　a　cigarette　into　the　long　holder；　applied　the　flame　with　a　shaking　hand；　and　drew　the　smoke　deep　into　his　lungs。　If　there　was　one　thing　he　detested　it　was　having　to　lie　deliberately。　The　truth　was　that　in　many　areas　the　troops　and　police　were　being　forced　back。　The　tide　had　turned；　and　a　backwash　of　bloody　terror　was　swamping　Britain。
　　
　　Already　a　military　escort　waited　outside　for　the　evacuation　of　Downing　Street。　Canverdale　was　well　aware　that　his　next　broadcast　would　be　made　from　a　secret　underground　headquarters　in　Hertfordshire。
　　
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　14
　　
　　On　Monday　night　Coyle　returned　home；　and　Anne　reluctantly　went　back　to　her　parents。　Just　for　a　few　hours　out　of　the　precious　few　left。
　　
　　Jane　and　Sarah　were　seated　before　the　small　electric　fire　in　the　living…room；　and　both　looked　up　as　he　entered。　Their　forced　smiles　meant　nothing　more　than　an　acknowledgement。　They　had　guessed　he　would　e。
　　
　　Sarah　prepared　a　snack　which　none　of　them　really　wanted；　but　they　must　pretend　to　eat　something　in　the　midst　of　this　forced　family　reunion。　Nobody　spoke；　but　the　silence　was　worse　than　any　backlash　of　words；　and　Coyle　wondered　how　they　would　get　through　the　long　evening　ahead。　The　television　was　out　of　action；　of　course；　and　his　transistor　radio　was　still　at　the　office。　He　knew　Sarah　had　one　in　her　room；　but　that　was　not　really　a　solution　to　their　problem。
　　
　　He　took　upon　himself　the　chore　of　washing　the　dishes；　simply　as　something　to　do。　The　thought　of　the　long　night　frightened　him。
　　
　　At　half…past　eight　the　front…door　bell　rang；　and　Sarah　went　to　answer　it。　From　the　kitchen　he　recognised　the　voice　of　the　caller…the　Reverend　James　Mortimer。
　　
　　The　vicar　had　e　on　a　mission　of　solace。　It　was　a　valuable　diversion；　Coyle　decided；　as　he　made　some　coffee。　He　hoped　that　Mortimer　would　not　refer　to　his　presence　at　the　munion　service。　The　memory　was　distasteful　to　Coyle；　because　in　his　own　mind　he　felt　he　had　capitulated　to　everything　he　had　opposed　in　the　past。　No　longer　could　he　claim　openly　to　be　an　atheist。　He　had　knelt　and　asked　God　for　deliverance　along　with　everybody　else。　Jane　and　Sarah　probably　despised　him　for　it；　and　perhaps　Mortimer　thought　he　had　won　a　long　battle；　and　converted　yet　another　to　his　fold。　Coyle　winced　at　the　thought。
　　
　　'Superintendent　Rollason　telephoned　me。'　Mortimer　drank　coffee　even　slower　than　he　consumed　tea；　with　constant　stirrings；　purely　a　habit　because　he　did　not　take　sugar。　'The　authorities　will　keep　the　crowds　out　of　the　church　tomorrow。　Just　for　the　service；　of　course。　I　want　to　leave　it　a　family　affair　just　for　you。　The　population　of　this　town　are　not　interested　in　your　grief。'
　　
　　Jane　and　Sarah　looked　at　Coyle。　He　dropped　his　gaze。　There　would　be　no　reconciliation…that　was　obvious。　Their　last　outward　show　of　unity　would　be　a　bereavement。　After　that　it　was　all　over。
　　
　　The　vicar　left　an　hour　later。　Sarah　came　back　from　seeing　him　out；　kissed　her　mother　briefly；　ignored　her　father；　and　went　upstairs　to　her　room。
　　
　　At　ten　o'clock　Coyle　suggested　that　they　too　go　to　bed。　They　would　need　every　bit　of　rest　they　could　get　to　prepare　for　the　morrow。　He　was　somewhat　surprised　when　Jane　followed　him　upstairs。　They　undressed。　It　was　a　sort　of　brother　and　sister　affair　as　though　both　were　being　forced　to　use　the　same　room。　She　turned　away　from　him　as　she　took　her　clothes　off…unwilling　even　to　allow　him　a　brief　glimpse　of　her　naked　breasts。