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e Father； the Son； the Holy Ghost 。 。 。 this is my Body 。 。 。 take 。。。 eat 。 ； 。 this is my Blood 。 。 。 drink 。 。 。 may God save us all 。。。 have mercy on our souls 。 。 。 '
Coyle and Kent watched as though hypnotised； neither feeling any cynicism。 Suddenly； Coyle stiffened； his fingers instinctively clutching at the arm of the man beside him。 Kent followed his gaze。 An attractive woman in her mid…thirties and a girl in her late teens knelt side by side； their features grief…stricken。 He recognised them both…Jane and Sarah！
Almost in a trance； Coyle crossed the road； looking neither to right nor left； his movements jerky； like a human automaton。
Kent made as if to follow； then checked himself。 This was one time Coyle did not need him。
Coyle pushed his way over kneeling； muttering figures； his progress slow。
Finally； he reached the two kneeling persons he sought； jostling for a place alongside Jane。 The ground was cold and wet； saturating his trousers where he knelt。 He bowed his head。 After a time he sensed his wife glancing sideways at him； and he turned his head。 Their eyes met。 No surprise on her part； certainly no forgiveness。 Not even hatred。 Nothing。 For her； he was just another one amongst this multitude。 She turned her head away； praying。 Everybody prayed except Coyle。
The Reverend Mortimer's voice was closer now。 ' 。 。 。 This is My Blood 。 。 。 take； drink 。 。 。 may God have mercy on us all。'
Face to face； Coyle noted the amazement in the vicar's large round eyes。 The chalice was thrust into his hands。 He took it clumsily； almost dropped it。 The wine was tasteless； watered liberally to cater for the numbers。 The bread dissolved on his palate before he could swallow it。 He managed to mumble 'Amen' as Mortimer moved on to Jane and Sarah。 It was only then that Coyle remembered that he had never been confirmed。
As more people arrived in the street； those who had taken munion left to make room for them。 Coyle rose unsteadily 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