Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
Somethingoughttobedoneaboutit..."
Lookingattheskyline,Mr.Mowenwonderedwhatwasthenamelessthreattoitandwhowasitsdestroyer.
"Whatdoyouwanttodoaboutit?"askedtheyoungman.
"Who,me?"saidMr.Mowen."Iwouldn’tknow.I’mnotabigshot.
Ican’tsolvenationalproblems.Ijustwanttomakealiving.AllIknowis,somebodyoughttodosomethingaboutit...Thingsaren’tright...Listen—what’syourname?"
"OwenKellogg."
"Listen,Kellogg,whatdoyouthinkisgoingtohappentotheworld?"
"Youwouldn’tcaretoknow."
Awhistleblewonadistanttower,thenight-shiftwhistle,andMr.Mowenrealizedthatitwasgettinglate.Hesighed,buttoninghiscoat,turningtogo.
"Well,thingsarebeingdone,"hesaid."Stepsarebeingtaken.Constructivesteps.TheLegislaturehaspassedaBillgivingwiderpowerstotheBureauofEconomicPlanningandNationalResources.They’veappointedaveryablemanasTopCo-ordinator.Can’tsayI’veheardofhimbefore,butthenewspaperssaidhe’samantobewatched.HisnameisWesleyMouch."
Dagnystoodatthewindowofherlivingroom,lookingatthecity.
Itwaslateandthelightswerelikethelastsparksleftglitteringontheblackremnantsofabonfire.
