Атлант расправил плечи

           Inrising,theyhadbrushedasidethematsofpaperlaceandshesawaninscriptioncutintotheplasticofthetabletop.Attemptshadbeenmadetoeraseit,buttheinscriptionremained,asthegravenvoiceofsomeunknowndrunk’sdespair:"WhoisJohnGalt?"

           Withabrusquemovementofanger,sheflickedthematbacktocoverthewords.Hechuckled.

           "Icananswerit,"hesaid."IcantellyouwhoisJohnGalt."

           "Really?Everybodyseemstoknowhim,buttheynevertellthesamestorytwice."

           "They’realltrue,though—allthestoriesyou’veheardabouthim."

           "Well,what’syours?Whoishe?"

           "JohnGaltisPrometheuswhochangedhismind.Aftercenturiesofbeingtornbyvulturesinpaymentforhavingbroughttomenthefireofthegods,hebrokehischainsandhewithdrewhisfire—untilthedaywhenmenwithdrawtheirvultures."

           Thebandofcrosstiessweptinwidecurvesaroundgranitecorners,clingingtothemountainsidesofColorado.Dagnywalkeddowntheties,keepingherhandsinhercoatpockets,andhereyesonthemeaninglessdistanceahead;onlythefamiliarmovementofstrainingherstepstothespacingofthetiesgaveherthephysicalsenseofanactionpertainingtoarailroad.

           Agraycotton,whichwasneitherquitefognorclouds,hunginsloppywadsbetweenskyandmountains,makingtheskylooklikeanoldmattressspillingitsstuffingdownthesidesofthepeaks.