gns.theplutopact-第48部分

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　　The　gauge　in　Section　Eight　was　still　the　criterion。
　　
　　Canverdale's　hand　rested　close　to　the　internal　telephone；　his　fingers　drumming　noiselessly　on　the　surface　of　the　table。　Nobody　spoke；　all　ears　were　awaiting　the　promised　buzz。　It　would　only　buzz　once；　then　would　be　snatched　up　before　it　had　a　chance　to　ring　a　second　time。　A　group　of　men　silently　awaited　the　fate　of　their　nation…the　whole　world。
　　
　　5。30　a。m。　The　phone　remained　silent。　Looks　were　exchanged；　but　no　words。　The　allotted　time　was　up。　Surely　Tyler　must　know　by　now　whether　his　experiment　had　succeeded　or　failed。　Perhaps　it　had　failed；　and　he　had　decided　to　persevere　a　little　longer；　clinging　vainly　to　a　vanishing　hope；　afraid　to　admit　defeat。
　　
　　5。40　a。m。　Still　nothing。　Canverdale　lit　a　cigarette　in　his　long　holder。　Kent　followed　suit　with　his　pipe。　Minor　regulations　were　being　waived。
　　
　　5。45　a。m。　A　whirring　noise　that　became　louder　with　every　second…then　stopped　abruptly。　The　elevator　。　。　。　footsteps　outside　in　the　corridor。　Measured　steps；　neither　slow　nor　fast。　The　door　opened。
　　
　　It　was　Tyler…with　Stafford　just　behind　him。
　　
　　'I'm　sorry　for　the　delay；　gentlemen；'　the　Hazardous　Materials　Group　man　said；　his　voice　scarcely　louder　than　a　whisper。　'But　you'll　appreciate　that　we　had　to　undergo　decontamination　procedure　before　ing　up　here。'
　　
　　'You　could　have　phoned！'　Canverdale　almost　shouted；　and　added；　'Well？'
　　
　　A　moment's　silence；　possibly　for　effect。
　　
　　'Gentlemen'…Tyler　moved　towards　his　vacant　chair；　but　did　not　sit　down…'I　am　pleased　to　announce　that　the　Radioactive　Solidifier；　technically　known　as　SLR92；　is　an　undoubted　success。　Not　only　has　it　already　solidified　some　of　the　escaped　vapour；　but　the　pressure　gauge　has　dropped　by　four　degrees！
　　
　　A　moment　in　history　to　be　savoured。　That；　of　course；　was　why　Tyler　had　e　up　in　person。　For　once　in　his　life　he　had　not　discarded　credit　that　was　due　to　him。　He　had　seized　his　moment　of　glory；　even　at　the　expense　of　keeping　a　Prime　Minister　waiting。　A　normally　retiring　personality　had　surfaced　from　the　very　ocean　depths　to　quell　the　tidal　wave。
　　
　　Handshakes　all　round。　Canverdale　debated　how　soon　he　could　broadcast　the　news　to　the　nation。　First；　though；　the　USSR　and　the　United　States　must　be　told。　The　former　would　need　some　convincing。　He　feared　lest　they　might　e；　anyway；　and　there　was　no　time　to　lose。　He　moved　towards　the　telephone　to　call　to　his　deputy　in　Hertfordshire。　From　the　small　village　of　Stanstead　Abbots；　messages　were　soon　relayed　to　the　governments　of　the　world　at　large；　whose　nations　breathed　a　loud　sigh　of　relief。
　　
　　With　some　reluctance；　Soviet　aircraft　were　recalled。　The　White　House　ordered　their　planes　to　ascertain　that　there　would　be　no　Russian　intervention；　and　then　return　immediately。　The　President　was　taking　no　chances。
　　
　　Canverdale　regarded　the　whole　business　as　a　personal　triumph；　beginning　with　his　7。30　a。　m。　announcement　to　the　British　people…and　the　rest　of　the　world…that　the　danger　was　now　past。　Doomsday　had　been　averted；　by　a　matter　of　hours。　He　would；　of　course；　endeavour　to　impose　a　permanent　ban　on　any　further　reprocessing　of　nuclear　waste　。　。　。
　　
　　Eventually　only　Tyler　and　Stafford　remained　in　that　elevated　room　overlooking　Section　Eight。　Together　they　watched　the　first　faint　streaks　of　light　in　the　eastern　sky；　then　the　golden　glow　of　a　morning　sunrise　on　the　surrounding　mountain　peaks。　Neither　spoke。　The　time　for　congratulations　was　over。　Yet　there　was　still　one　unsolved　problem；　which　everybody　else　appeared　to　have　forgotten。　That　first　escape　of　radioactivity！　It　was　somewhere　in　the　environment。　It　would　remain　there　for　the　next　quarter　of　a　million　years。　They　wondered　where　and　when　it　would　show　up　again。　Perhaps　not　in　their　lifetime；　or　even　during　that　of　the　next　generation。　It　was　a　very　disturbing　thought。
　　
　　Wearily　they　rose　to　their　feet。　A　few　hours'　sleep；　and　then　back　to　work　on　the　Solidifiers。　SLR92…there　were　one　or　two　modifications　to　be　carried　out　on　the　instruments　before　they　could　be　classed　as　one　hundred…percent　effective。　But　basically　the　idea　had　worked…and；　as　a　result；　the　world　lived　on。
　　
　　Kent　dropped　Coyle　off　at　the　offices　of　the　Herald。　The　Londoner　kept　the　engine　running。　There　were　several　reasons　why　he　did　not　want　to　go　inside。　'See　you　tomorrow；'　he　said。　'I　take　it　you　won't　be　ing　in　today。'　'No。　We've　both　plenty　of　sleep　to　catch　up　on。'　They　shook　hands；　a　gesture　that　said　more　than　any　amount　of　words。
　　
　　Coyle　stood　watching　the　Mercedes　until　it　was　out　of　sight；　then　slowly　turned　and　went　inside。　The　world　lived　on；　and　that　still　meant　one　or　two　problems。　Right　now；　though；　he　had　to　get　to　work　on　next　week's　Herald。　It　just　had　to　be　a　special　edition；　a　kind　of　celebration　issue。



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