Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
"
"Andthen?"
Heraisedhiseyesslowlytoholdhersacrosstheroom,andthesubmergedintensitythatpulledhisvoicedown,blurringitstonetosoftness,gaveitasoundofself-mockerythatwasdesperateandalmostgentle:"ThenIknewthatabandoningmymotorwasnotthehardestpriceIwouldhavetopayforthisstrike."
Shewonderedwhichanonymousshadow—amongthepassengerswhohadhurriedpasther,asinsubstantialasthesteamoftheenginesandasignored—whichshadowandfacehadbeenhis;shewonderedhowcloseshehadcometohimforthelengthofthatunknownmoment."Oh,whydidn’tyouspeaktome,thenorlater?"
"DoyouhappentorememberwhatyouweredoingintheTerminalthatnight?"
"IremembervaguelyanightwhentheycalledmefromsomepartyIwasattending.MyfatherwasoutoftownandthenewTerminalmanagerhadmadesomesortoferrorthattiedupalltrafficinthetunnels.Theoldmanagerhadquitunexpectedlytheweekbefore."
"ItwasIwhomadehimquit."
"Isee..."
Hervoicetrailedoff,asifabandoningsound,ashereyelidsdropped,abandoningsight.Ifhehadnotwithstooditthen—shethought—ifhehadcometoclaimher,thenorlater,whatsortoftragedywouldtheyhavehadtoreach?...Sherememberedwhatshehadfeltwhenshehadcriedthatshewouldshootthedestroyeronsight...
