Атлант расправил плечи

           Shewaslyinginthegrassofafieldatthefootofagranitedropthatcamedownfromthousandsoffeetawayinthebluesky.Ontheotheredgeofthefield,somecragsandpinesandtheglitteringleavesofbirchtreeshidthespacethatstretchedtoadistantwallofencirclingmountains.Herplanewasnotshattered—itwasthere,afewfeetaway,flatonitsbellyinthegrass.Therewasnootherplaneinsight,nostructures,nosignofhumanhabitation.

           "Whatisthisvalley?"sheasked.

           Hesmiled,"TheTaggartTerminal."

           "Whatdoyoumean?"

           "You’llfindout."

           Adimimpulse,liketherecoilofanantagonist,madeherwanttocheckonwhatstrengthwaslefttoher.Shecouldmoveherarmsandlegs;shecouldliftherhead;shefeltastabbingpainwhenshebreatheddeeply;shesawathinthreadofbloodrunningdownherstocking.

           "Canonegetoutofthisplace?"sheasked.

           Hisvoiceseemedearnest,buttheglintofthemetal-greeneyeswasasmile:"Actually—no.Temporarily—yes."

           Shemadeamovementtorise.Hebenttolifther,butshegatheredherstrengthinaswift,suddenjoltandslippedoutofhisgrasp,strugglingtostandup."IthinkIcan—"shestartedsaying,andcollapsedagainsthimtheinstantherfeetrestedontheground,astabofpainshootingupfromananklethatwouldnotholdher.

           Heliftedherinhisarmsandsmiled.