Атлант расправил плечи
The Moratorium on Brains
OthersarethekindofscumIdidn’tthinkexisted—theygetthejobsandtheyknowthatwecan’tthrowthemoutoncethey’rein,sotheymakeitclearthattheydon’tintendtoworkfortheirpayandneverdidintend.They’rethekindofmenwholikeit—wholikethewaythingsarenow.Canyouimaginethattherearehumanbeingswholikeit?Well,thereare...Youknow,Idon’tthinkthatIreallybelieveit—allthat’shappeningtousthesedays.It’shappeningallright,butIdon’tbelieveit.Ikeepthinkingthatinsanityisastatewhereapersoncan’ttellwhat’sreal.
Well,what’srealnowisinsane—andifIaccepteditasreal,I’dhavetolosemymind,wouldn’tI?...IgoonworkingandIkeeptellingmyselfthatthisisTaggartTranscontinental.Ikeepwaitingforhertocomeback—forthedoortoopenatanymomentand—ohGod,I’mnotsupposedtosaythat!...What?Youknewit?Youknewthatshe’sgone?...They’rekeepingitsecret.ButIguesseverybodyknowsit,onlynobodyissupposedtosayit.They’retellingpeoplethatshe’sawayonaleaveofabsence.She’sstilllistedasourVice-PresidentinChargeofOperation.IthinkJimandIaretheonlyoneswhoknowthatshehasresignedforgood.JimisscaredtodeaththathisfriendsinWashingtonwilltakeitoutonhim,ifitbecomesknownthatshe’squit.It’ssupposedtobedisastrousforpublicmorale,ifanyprominentpersonquits,andJimdoesn’twantthemtoknowthathe’sgotadeserterrightinhisownfamily...