Атлант расправил плечи
The Sanction of the Victim
Hewasseeingtheenormityofthesmallnessoftheenemywhowasdestroyingtheworld.Hefeltasif,afterajourneyofyearsthroughalandscapeofdevastation,pasttheruinsofgreatfactories,thewrecksofpowerfulengines,thebodiesofinvinciblemen,hehadcomeuponthedespoiler,expectingtofindagiant—andhadfoundarateagertoscurryforcoveratthefirstsoundofahumanstep.Ifthisiswhathasbeatenus,hethought,theguiltisours.
Hewasjoltedbackintothecourtroombythepeoplepressingtosurroundhim.Hesmiledinanswertotheirsmiles,tothefrantic,tragiceagernessoftheirfaces;therewasatouchofsadnessinhissmile.
"Godblessyou,Mr.Rearden!"saidanoldwomanwitharaggedshawloverherhead."Can’tyousaveus,Mr.Rearden?They’reeatingusalive,andit’snousefoolinganybodyabouthowit’stherichthatthey’reafter—doyouknowwhat’shappeningtous?"
"Listen,Mr.Rearden,"saidamanwholookedlikeafactoryworker,"it’stherichwho’resellingusdowntheriver.Tellthosewealthybastards,who’resoanxioustogiveeverythingaway,thatwhentheygiveawaytheirpalaces,they’regivingawaytheskinoffourbacks."
"Iknowit,"saidRearden.
Theguiltisours,hethought.
