Coley stepped back till he felt the firm stones of the skyscraper against his shoulders.
“God help us!” he whispered. “God help us all.” Then he snapped, “What’s the Transcript doing about it?”
“Standing by—for the story.”
“That maybe it’ll never print! Where you going?”
“Out to CD headquarters. Vilmer just ordered me there.”
“Well, get on, son. Don’t waste time with a broken-down old prophet!” Payton grinned, patted his former boss on the arm, and hurried into the crowds.
Coley stood awhile, without moving. Perhaps he was thinking. Perhaps he was merely summoning the strength to get going again.
He entered the building, finally. He took an elevator to the top. When he stepped out, the smell was familiar, the sounds were remembered and fond; the look of the place was home itself.
12
Where Chuck Conner stood, the news came abruptly, repeated by Zinsner, who had first signaled General Boyce: