Атлант расправил плечи
The Sign of the Dollar
Whydidshefeelsocertainofthedesperateneedtohurry?
Shehadnoanswer.Toreachhimintime,wastheonlyultimatumleftinhermind.Sheheldontoit,askingnoquestions.Wordlessly,sheknewtherealanswer:themotorwasneeded,nottomovetrains,buttokeephermoving.
Shecouldnothearthebeatofthefourthknocksanylongerinthejumbledscreechingofmetal,shecouldnothearthestepsoftheenemyshewasracing,onlythehopelessstampedeofpanic...
I’llgetthereintime,shethought,I’llgettherefirst,I’llsavethemotor.
There’sonemotorhe’snotgoingtostop,shethought...he’snotgoingtostop...he’snotgoingtostop...He’snotgoingtostop,shethought—awakeningwithajolt,jerkingherheadoffthepillow.Thewheelshadstopped.
Foramoment,sheremainedstill,tryingtograspthepeculiarstillnessaroundher.Itfeltliketheimpossibleattempttocreateasensoryimageofnon-existence.Therewerenoattributesofrealitytoperceive,nothingbuttheirabsence:nosound,asifshewerealoneonthetrain—nomotion,asifthiswerenotatrain,butaroominabuilding—nolight,asifthiswereneithertrainnorroom,butspacewithoutobjects—nosignofviolenceorphysicaldisaster,asifthiswerethestatewheredisasterisnolongerpossible.
