Атлант расправил плечи
The Moratorium on Brains
Thehumanshapesmovingpasthiminthestreetsofthecitywerephysicalobjectswithoutanymeaning.Thecountryside—withthedarknesswashingawayalltracesofhumanactivity,leavingonlyanuntouchedearthwhichhehadoncebeenabletohandle—wasreal.
Hecarriedaguninhispocket,asadvisedbythepolicemenoftheradiocarthatpatrolledtheroads;theyhadwarnedhimthatnoroadwassafeafterdark,thesedays.Hefelt,withatouchofmirthlessamusement,thatthegunhadbeenneededatthemills,notinthepeacefulsafetyoflonelinessandnight;whatcouldsomestarvingvagranttakefromhim,comparedtowhathadbeentakenbymenwhoclaimedtobehisprotectors?
Hewalkedwithaneffortlessspeed,feelingrelaxedbyaformofactivitythatwasnaturaltohim.Thiswashisperiodoftrainingforsolitude,hethought;hehadtolearntolivewithoutanyawarenessofpeople,theawarenessthatnowparalyzedhimwithrevulsion.Hehadoncebuilthisfortune,startingoutwithemptyhands;nowhehadtorebuildhislife,startingoutwithanemptyspirit.
Hewouldgivehimselfashortspanoftimeforthetraining,hethought,andthenhewouldclaimtheoneincomparablevaluestilllefttohim,theonedesirethathadremainedpureandwhole:hewouldgotoDagny.Twocommandmentshadgrowninhismind;onewasaduty,theotherapassionatewish.
