Атлант расправил плечи
The Sign of the Dollar
Thentheearthsteadiedintoawideblacksheetthatgrewwiderandwiderasshecircled,rising.Whensheglanceddownforthelasttime,thelightsofthefieldwereextinguished,therewasonlythesinglebeaconleftanditlookedlikethetipofKellogg’scigarette,glowingasalastsaluteinthedarkness.
Thenshewasleftwiththelightsonherinstrumentpanelandthespreadofstarsbeyondherfilmofglass.Therewasnothingtosupportherbutthebeatoftheengineandthemindsofthemenwhohadmadetheplane.Butwhatelsesupportsoneanywhere?—shethought.
Thelineofhercoursewentnorthwest,tocutadiagonalacrossthestateofColorado.Sheknewshehadchosenthemostdangerousroute,overtoolongastretchoftheworstmountainbarrier—butitwastheshortestline,andsafetylayinaltitude,andnomountainsseemeddangerouscomparedtothedispatcherofBradshaw.
Thestarswerelikefoamandtheskyseemedfullofflowingmotion,themotionofbubblessettlingandforming,thefloatingofcircularwaveswithoutprogression.Asparkoflightflareduponearthonceinawhile,anditseemedbrighterthanallthestaticblueabove.Butithungalone,betweentheblackofashesandtheblueofacrypt,itseemedtofightforitsfragilefoothold,itgreetedherandwent.
Thepalestreakofarivercamerisingslowlyfromthevoid,andforalongstretchoftimeitremainedinsight,glidingimperceptiblytomeether.
