gns.theplutopact-第38部分

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　　'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　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　w