Атлант расправил плечи
The John Galt line
Shelookedahead,atthehazethatmeltedrailanddistance,ahazethatcouldripapartatanymomenttosomeshapeofdisaster.Shewonderedwhyshefeltsaferthanshehadeverfeltinacarbehindtheengine,saferhere,whereitseemedasif,shouldanobstaclerise,herbreastandtheglassshieldwouldbefirsttosmashagainstit.Shesmiled,graspingtheanswer:itwasthesecurityofbeingfirst,withfullsightandfullknowledgeofone’scourse—nottheblindsenseofbeingpulledintotheunknownbysomeunknownpowerahead.Itwasthegreatestsensationofexistence:nottotrust,buttoknow.
Theglasssheetsofthecab’swindowsmadethespreadofthefieldsseemvaster:theearthlookedasopentomovementasitwastosight.
Yetnothingwasdistantandnothingwasoutofreach.Shehadbarelygraspedthesparkleofalakeahead—andinthenextinstantshewasbesideit,thenpast.
Itwasastrangeforeshorteningbetweensightandtouch,shethought,betweenwishandfulfillment,between—thewordsclickedsharplyinhermindafterastartledstop—betweenspiritandbody.First,thevision—thenthephysicalshapetoexpressit.First,thethought—thenthepurposefulmotiondownthestraightlineofasingletracktoachosengoal.
