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He finally located the elevator and experienced dizziness as it plunged downwards； ing to a gentle halt which threw him from one wall to the other。 Christ； his eyes hurt。 Nobody about； either； not even a guard on the main doors。 Probably everybody was congregated around Section Eight； the focal point of the whole world at this very moment。
The wind met him with an icy gust as he pushed his way out through the swing…doors。 He shivered； he should have brought a top coat； but he wasn't going back inside。 Jesus； no。 Out here he felt a kind of freedom； an urge to run blindly； to put as much distance between himself and Craiglowrie as possible。 But no； he had to remain…go up with the rest of them if the reactor exploded。 Maybe ten minutes out here would do the trick。 Already his headache seemed to have lessened； but there was definitely something wrong with his vision。
He glanced back and felt a mounting terror。 He couldn't even see the Reprocessing Centre； not so much as a glimmer of light to denote its presence。 It was as though Winston Dyne stood on a barren hillside； the ground beneath him bereft even of sprouting weeds； whilst all around him the moorland wind moaned its loneliness across miles of gorse and heather。
He stared hard； but could see nothing in the blackness。 He rubbed his eyes。 Oh God； had he gone blind？ Then he sensed a presence； the wind seeming to whisper words in his ears； like strange angry incantations。 He fell to his knees； and flung up his arms instinctively to protect his head。 Words again…and this time he could make them out。
The time is nigh； Balzur。 Destroy with the power I have given you。 Pluto mands you。 Now！
'Where the hell is he？' Coyle followed on Kent's heels out into the open pound； unhindered by a security guard who glanced in their direction but relaxed as he recognised them。 'He's not in his quarters。 They're searching the building for him； without result so far； so he's got to be out here。 But for Christ's sake why？'
Kent broke into a run without answering； almost as though he'd seen something； the soft springy grass beneath his feet suddenly petering out into rock and shale that crunched under the soles of his shoes。 And that was when they hit the blackness； as though they had suddenly stepped into a void。 Kent pulled up abruptly and Coyle cannoned into him。
'What the hell 。 。 。 ' Coyle stared all around…and could not believe that he saw nothing except the blackness of night。 His skin prickled； and he clutched at Kent's arm。
'What's going on； Kent？ Where's everything gone？'
'Listen！'…a whispered mand。 They both strained their ears。
A soft soughing of the mountain breezes； bearing on them angry voices； unintelligible as though they were centuries…old echoes suddenly released from some secret cleft…escalating to a tearing gale that had the two men fighting to keep their balance。
'My God！' Kent pointed ahead of him。 'Bob； do you see it？ Jesus； man。 Do you see what I see？'
Coyle saw； but he could not understand why it was now possible to see in what only seconds earlier had been total darkness。 Now the scene was lit up by an inexplicable radiance that seemed to e from the mountains above； as though some hidden fire burned somewhere and its glow radiated the sky； a mountainside thick with gorse and heather except for one bare and blackened patch that appeared to have been ravaged by fire。 Kent's nostrils twitched； he smelled charred ashes； something else 。 。 。 the odour of decaying flesh！
And in the midst of the ashes stood a man； his upturned features clearly lit up by the strange light； a ragged； cloaked figure with an oversize puppet…like head； thick festering lips moving as he spoke to the sky above； arms held aloft。
'It's him！' Coyle breathed。 'The one in my dreams。 Balzur 。 。 。 Dyne 。 。 。 whoever 。 。 。 Now d'you believe me？ Or is this another nightmare 。 。 。 '
'It's 。 。 。 real。' There was awe in the London journalist's voice。 'Bob； what you see now is a bination of the past arid the present； some kind of astral projection that's both dangerous and evil。 And； unless I'm wrong； it's also the fuse that will fire Section Eight； and blast civilisation into oblivion！'
'What can we do？'
'Do you believe in God； Bob？'
'Yes 。 。 。 yes； I do。 I thought I didn't； but now 。 。 。 '
'Then your power will be stronger than mine。 I just know the words 。 。 。 words I've learned from reporting exorcisms in this country and abroad。 I'll whisper them to you and you shout them out aloud。 And try to believe in them。 It's the only way。'
'Deliver 。 。 。 this place 。 。 。 ' Coyle found himself yelling； pausing only to catch the words whispered in his ear by his panion； 'from 。 。 。 all evil spirits； all vain imaginations； projections and phantasms 。 。 。 and all deceits of the evil one 。 。 。 and bid them harm no one but depart to the place appointed them 。 。 。 there to remain for ever。 Lord 。 。 。 beat down Satan 。 。 。 God； Incarnate God； who came to give peace； bring peace。' And he added of his own volition； 'Amen。'
The gale came rushing with hurricane force now； the tatters streaming like fairground bunting from the clothing of that terrible figure in front of them。 For a second； the strange light seemed to grow brighter。 Time enough for the two watchers to see the terror and agony on Balzur's face； the animal grimace of one suddenly thwarted from a four…centuries…old ambition。 Despair and pain； the body stiffening； jerking as though from the impact of a sniper's bullet。 The shadows surged back； and now everything was seen only in silhouette； a pathetic figure sinking until lost from view in the ashes all around it。
One last rush of wind and then all was silent in the pitch darkness。 A tranquillity that dispelled fear； a period that was timeless； as though the evil forces had been vanquished。 A moment of sheer peace。
The light came back with a dazzling brightness that had Coyle and Kent covering their eyes。 Stark artificial light from the Reprocessing Centre； shadowless as it illuminated the barbed…wire enclosure； shining on the grass and weeds； outlining that strange area called 'Pluto's Patch' in which nothing grew…and the crumpled body which lay in the middle； a figure whose tattered garments had changed to a thick tweed suit。 It was Winston Dyne。 And there was little doubt that he was dead！'
'Christ Almighty！' The two men whipped round at the sound of voices； and saw a dishevelled Stafford and two AEA policemen ing towards them at a run。 'That's Dyne！ We'd better get the MO。'
'I believe he's dead；' Kent forced the words from his confused brain。 'Heart attack probably 。 。 。 '
Bob Coyle shook his head。 Once again it all seemed yet another of those terrible nightmares…only this time the proof of what had happened lay before them。
They turned and walked slowly back towards the Centre。
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。