Атлант расправил плечи
The Moratorium on Brains
Hedidnothearhisownwords,becausehekepthearingasinglesentenceinhismind,withoutcontextexceptthefeelingthatitwastheonlythingthatmatteredtohimintheworld:"IfIshouldlosemylife,towhatbetterpurposecouldIgiveit?"
"Didyouseehim,Mr.Rearden?"
"No,"saidRearden."Ididn’t."
Thepolicemanshruggedregretfullyandclosedhishandsaboutthesteeringwheel."Youdidn’tseeanymanthatlookedsuspicious?"
"No."
"Noranystrangecarpassingyouontheroad?"
"No."
Thepolicemanreachedforthestarter."Theygotwordthathewasseenashoreinthesepartstonight,andthey’vethrownadragnetoverfivecounties.We’renotsupposedtomentionhisname,nottoscarethefolks,buthe’samanwhoseheadisworththreemilliondollarsinrewardsfromallovertheworld."
Hehadpressedthestarterandthemotorwaschurningtheairwithbrightcracksofsound,whenthesecondpolicemanleanedforward.
HehadbeenlookingattheblondhairunderDanneskjold’scap.
"Whoisthat,Mr.Rearden?"heasked.
"Mynewbodyguard,"saidRearden.
"Oh...Asensibleprecaution,Mr.Rearden,intimeslikethese.
Goodnight,sir."
Themotorjerkedforward.Theredtaillightsofthecarwentshrinkingdowntheroad.
