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aning 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 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