'Not more than a couple of weeks,' Dan said. 'It'll take the helicopters about three days to get all the representatives to Windsor and three to get us all home again. A week in between for the discussions.'

'How long will the fuel stocks last, ferrying people back and forth to Parliament?' Greg wondered.

'That's one of the items for discussion – how to use the helicopters best in the public interest, for as long as the stocks do last. There'll be people there who know how much Beehive had stockpiled… Anyway, it's not a Parliament. It's a Constitutional Conference under the King's chairmanship, to arrange the rules for a Constituent Assembly, which'll decide the basis for a Parliament, which will then have to be elected. It's a long process and we've got to get it right.'

'The King's certainly thrown his hat in the ring,' Greg said, 'announcing that he'll offer his abdication to Parliament once it's elected.'

'Yes, but he did make it clear why – and he had to do it well in advance, to give people time to chew it over. It's so that we can start with a clean slate, politically – and that includes deciding whether we want a republic or a monarchy. My guess is that Parliament will hang on to the King as King – or even if they plump for a republic, they'll elect him President. He'd be the obvious choice.'

'I'm glad you and Moira have been called to the Conference,' Rosemary said, 'but I'm not sure I'd want either of you to be an MP. Camp Cerridwen needs you both. And I think Camp Cerridwen's important. Not just for the two hundred of us.'

Moira smiled. 'Anyway, that'll be out of the question for me for a few years – so I doubt if you could drag Dan away.'

'You're pregnant!' Rosemary cried.

Two months.'

Greg laughed delightedly and Rosemary said:' 'Well, that's marvellous. I'm about six weeks. We were going to ell you when we were absolutely sure – but I am, really.'

That ended the political discussion.

There were rather more people coming and going in the echoing corridors of Beehive these days, following the necessarily rough-and-ready decisions of the Constitutional inference.

The guardhouses at the entrances were manned, for private looting had to be replaced by public salvaging; but the guards had little to do but keep an eye open for brigand groups attempting an organized raid – for such groups still existed, though their number was rapidly diminishing.

Then there was the Mint. Few people, even in Beehive, had known of the heavily protected 'Fort Mini-Knox' under Finsbury Park, in which the nation's gold reserves and much silver had been stored. After the Conference, it had been officially breeched and coining machinery, salvaged from the ruined Royal Mint by Tower Bridge, moved in beside it, the plan for getting a workable currency in circulation gain was also rough-and-ready but practical. As soon as enough gold, cupro-nickel and bronze had been coined, distribution would start, as simultaneously as possible; £100 to each man, woman, and child in Britain, against a thumb-printed and signed receipt (parents or guardians signing for children under sixteen). That should be enough to start the replacement of clumsy barter by cash trade, though it might lean a certain temporary revival of brigandage, but district posses were being organized to deal with that. The funding f government, special allowances, loans to capitalize cooperatives, paper currency once confidence was established – all these could be decided upon in due course by Parliament.

The power workers were very busy. The nuclear submarine-type generators at the London Beehive, and at each of the regional hives, were being rehabilitated as fast as the few available experts could deal with them, for linking the National Grid which other gangs were working hard to restore on Surface. Generation by oil or coal was out i the question, probably for many years ahead; but it looked as though it might be possible to restore one or two of the hydro-electric stations.

Any rehabilitation of the Mohowatt couples, even if had been practicable, was rejected out of hand.

Brenda and Gareth had returned to London, to organise the removal of her library to a suitable building near Bedford, as the nucleus of a conveniently central Nation Library. Both the British Museum Reading Room and the Bodleian at Oxford were unusable, but guards had to be placed on their ruins against the day when manpower could be enlisted to salvage what remained of their contents.

Philip, too, had been briefly recalled to Beehive to inspect the ventilation system and ensure that it would remain adequate for the people who were having to work there Betty had been unable to go with him, for they now had a month-old baby, but he had gone to their old cubicle at brought her back one or two of their personal belonging

Among them was a poster which now hung on the cabin wall: a Zodiac painting by Johfra, a winged Virgin carrying a stem of barley in one hand and a flame-enclosed crystal egg in the other. Behind her were tilled fields at an open sky and she was surrounded by numinous symbols which Philip felt he was beginning to understand.

On her face was a secret smile.

Stewart Farrar