Атлант расправил плечи
The Generator
Inthemomentwhenhe,JamesTaggart,hadfoundhimselffacingtheultimatum:toacceptrealityordie,itwasdeathhisemotionshadchosen,death,ratherthansurrendertothatrealmofwhichGaltwassoradiantason.InthepersonofGalt—heknew—hehadsoughtthedestructionofallexistence.
Itwasnotbymeansofwordsthatthisknowledgeconfrontedhisconsciousness:asallhisknowledgehadconsistedofemotions,sonowhewasheldbyanemotionandavisionthathehadnopowertodispel.Hewasnolongerabletosummonthefogtoconcealthesightofallthoseblindalleyshehadstrugglednevertobeforcedtosee:now,attheendofeveryalley,hewasseeinghishatredofexistence—hewasseeingthefaceofCherrylTaggartwithherjoyouseagernesstoliveandthatitwasthisparticulareagernesshehadalwayswantedtodefeat—hewasseeinghisfaceasthefaceofakillerwhomallmenshouldrightfullyloathe,whodestroyedvaluesforbeingvalues,whokilledinordernottodiscoverhisownirredeemableevil.
"No..."hemoaned,staringatthatvision,shakinghisheadtoescapeit."No...No..."
"Yes,"saidGalt.
HesawGalt’seyeslookingstraightathis,asifGaltwereseeingthethingshewasseeing.
"Itoldyouthatontheradio,didn’tI?"saidGalt.
ThiswasthestampJamesTaggarthaddreaded,fromwhichtherewasnoescape:thestampandproofofobjectivity."No...
