Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
Thepeopleinthestreetsstaredatthenewcar,notasonestaresatararesight,butasiftheglitteringblackshapewereanimpossiblevisionfromanotherworld.Therewerefewvehiclesinthestreetsandtoomanyofthemwerehorse-drawn.Shehadforgottentheliteralshapeandusageofhorsepower;shedidnotliketoseeitsreturn.
Shedidnotlaugh,thatdayatthegradecrossing,whenReardenchuckled,pointing,andshesawthetrainofasmalllocalrailroadcometotteringfrombehindahill,drawnbyanancientlocomotivethatcoughedblacksmokethroughatallstack.
"OhGod,Hank,it’snotfunny!"
"Iknow,"hesaid.
Theywereseventymilesandanhourawayfromit,whenshesaid,"Hank,doyouseetheTaggartCometbeingpulledacrossthecontinentbyacoal-burnerofthatkind?"
"What’sthematterwithyou?Pullyourselftogether."
"I’msorry...It’sjustthatIkeepthinkingitwon’tbeanyuse,allmynewtrackandallyournewfurnaces,ifwedon’tfindsomeoneabletoproduceDieselengines.Ifwedon’tfindhimfast."
"TedNielsenofColoradoisyourman."
"Yes,ifhefindsawaytoopenhisnewplant.He’ssunkmoremoneythanheshouldintothebondsoftheJohnGaltLine."
"That’sturnedouttobeaprettyprofitableinvestment,hasn’tit?"
"Yes,butit’sheldhimup.
