Chapter 10 Chapter Ten In Our Highest Name

Dagny walked straight towards the sentry guarding the gate of "F Project".Her steps were intentional, evenly paced and swaggering, echoing along the forest path.She tilted her head up into the moonlight so he could see her face clearly. "Let me in," she said. "Don't go in," he replied robotically. "Dr. Ferrez's order." "Mr. Thompson ordered me to come." "Ah?... This... I don't know about this." "But I know." "I mean, Dr. Ferriss didn't tell me... madam." "I'm telling you right now."

"But I shouldn't take orders from anyone but Mr. Ferris." "Are you trying to defy Mr. Thompson?" "Oh, no, ma'am! But... since Dr. Ferris said that no one is allowed in, it means everyone—" He hesitated and asked for help again, "Isn't it?" "Do you know that I am Dagny Taggart, you should have seen my group photo with Mr. Thompson and the main leaders of other countries in the newspaper, right?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then you can weigh whether you want to disobey their orders." "Oh no, ma'am, I don't want to!"

"Then let me in." "But I can't disobey Dr. Ferrez's orders!" "That depends on your choice." "But I can't choose, madam! How should I choose?" "You have to choose." "Well," he said hastily, taking out the key from his pocket and turning to the door, "I'll ask the boss, he—" "No," she said. Something in her tone made him snap back: she was holding a gun straight to his heart. "Listen," she said, "or let me in, and I'll kill you. You can try to shoot me first, but you have no choice. Decide now."

He opened his mouth wide, and the key dropped from his hand to the floor. "Get out of the way," she said. He shook his head desperately and leaned his back against the door. "My God, ma'am!" he begged desperately, "I can't shoot you since you're sent from Mr. Thompson! But I can't let you in against Dr. Ferrez's orders! I But what should I do? I'm just a soldier, and I'm just following orders, so I shouldn't be the one to decide!" "It's your life at stake," she said. "If you asked me to ask the boss, he'd tell me he'd—"

"I won't let you ask anyone." "But how do I know if you really have Mr. Thompson's order?" "You don't know. Maybe I didn't, maybe I was faking it—you'd be punished for listening to me. Maybe I was—then you'd be in jail for disobedience. Maybe Dr. Ferrez It was a deal with Mr. Thompson, maybe they didn't - then you'd have to offend one of them. It's something you have to decide, no one to ask, no one to find, no one to tell You. You have to make your own decisions." "But I can't decide! Why on my head?" "Because you are blocking my way."

"But I can't decide! What I decide is not what I should do!" "I counted to three," she said, "and shot." "Wait a minute! I haven't said it's okay yet!" he yelled, his body crouching against the door even more tightly, as if stopping his brain and body was his best protection. "One," she counted; she could see his eyes were fixed on her in fear—"Two," she could see, he was more afraid of the other gun she had just said than the gun. One possibility - "Three." She, who would hesitate to shoot at animals, pulled the trigger calmly and fired at the heart of a person who wanted to survive but had no sense of responsibility.

Her gun was suppressed and made no alarming sound except the sound of the body falling at her feet. She picked up the key from the floor—and waited a moment according to the plan that had been agreed upon in advance. The first to join her was Francisco, who came out from the corner of the building, followed by Hank Reardon, and the last was Ragna Dennisjord.The four sentinels who had been divided into guards in the woods around the building had now been dealt with: one was dead, and the other three were bound hand and foot, gagged, and thrown into the bushes. She handed the key to Francisco without a word.He opened the door and walked in alone, leaving the door an inch wide.The other three leaned against the crack of the door and waited outside.

The corridor is illuminated by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.A guard stood by the stairs leading to the second floor. "Who are you?" he yelled, seeing Francisco strutting in. "No one should be here tonight!" "Here I am," Francisco said. "How did Rusty let you in?" "He must have his reasons." "But he shouldn't!" "Someone changed your should and shouldn't." Francisco's eyes scanned the surrounding situation with lightning speed.At the corner of the stairs stood another guard, looking down at them and listening attentively.

"what is your job?" "Copper miners." "Ah? I'm asking, who are you?" "My name is too long to tell you. I'd better tell your boss. Where is he?" "Now I'm asking you!" But he still took a step back, "Stop...don't pretend to be a big shot, or I'll—" "Hey, Pete, he really is!" The other guard was taken aback by Francisco's mannerisms. But this one still refused to believe it; and as his fear grew, he could not help raising his voice and shouting at Francisco, "What are you doing here?"

"I said I would tell you the leader, where is he?" "I'm asking you something!" "I won't answer." "Oh, you won't answer will you?" Pete snarled, using the only means he would use in case of doubt: his hand slammed for the gun in his waist. Francisco's hand was so fast the two men didn't even see it clearly, and his gun was eerily still. The next thing they saw and heard was the gun flying from Pete's hand along with the blood spattering from his battered finger, and his low howl of pain.He fell to the ground moaning.The other guard just opened his mouth in surprise when he saw Francisco's gun pointed at him.

"Don't shoot, sir!" he yelled. "Hands up, come down," Francisco ordered, aiming his gun with one hand and gesturing with the other to the rest of the group outside the door. As soon as the guard came down the stairs, Reardon was waiting there to disarm him, while Dennis Joad bound his hands and feet.What startled him most was the sight of Dagny here; it baffled him: the three men were all wearing hats and trench coats, but they behaved like a gang of robbers; It's just so inexplicable that a lady is here. "Okay," said Francisco, "where is your leader?" The guard turned his head in the direction of the stairs, "Up there." "How many guards are there in the building?" "nine." "Where are they all?" "One is on the basement steps and the others are above." "Where is up there?" "In that big lab, the one with the windows." "Is it everyone?" "yes." "What kind of rooms are these?" He pointed to the doors on both sides of the corridor. "These are also laboratories, and at night the doors are locked." "Who has the key?" "He." He shook his head at Pete. Reardon and Dennis Yoder took out the key from Pete's pocket, and quickly and quietly checked the room, while Francisco continued to ask, "Is there anyone else in the building?" "No." "Isn't there a prisoner here?" "Oh, yes...I think so. There must be, or they wouldn't have all of us standing guard here." "Is he still here?" "Then I don't know. They never tell us." "Is Dr. Ferris here?" "No, he left about ten to fifteen minutes ago." "Listen, that laboratory upstairs—does it have a door that opens onto the stairs?" "yes." "How many doors are there?" "Three, the one facing the stairs is the one in the middle." "What are the other rooms for?" "There's a small laboratory at one end of the corridor, and Dr. Ferrez's office at the other end." "Is there a connecting door between the rooms?" "Have." Francisco was turning to look at his companions when the guard begged, "Sir, may I ask you a question?" "Just ask." "Who are you?" His tone of reply was as solemn as an introduction in the reception room, "Francisco Domenico Carlos Andre Sebastian de Anconia." He shook off the stunned guards and turned to confer with his companions in whispers. After a while Reardon came up the stairs swiftly and noiselessly alone. Cages containing mice and guinea pigs were stacked against the walls of the laboratory; they had been moved by the guards who were sitting around the long laboratory table in the middle of the room playing cards.Six of them were playing, and the other two were standing in the opposite corner of the room with guns in their hands, looking at the door.It was Reardon's face that had saved his life from being shot dead instantly: it was too familiar to them, and too unexpected.He saw eight heads staring at him, recognized him, and couldn't believe their eyes. He stood at the door with his hands in his trouser pockets, looking like a casual, confident business boss. "Who's in charge here?" His voice was straightforward, without wasting any time. "You...you're not..." stammered a stern-faced thin guy at the card table. "I'm Hank Reardon, are you the leader?" "Yes! But where did you come from?" "From New York." "What are you doing here?" "So you haven't been notified yet." "I should be...I mean, about what?" From the boss's voice, it was clear that he was extremely sensitive and dissatisfied with his superiors' power to ignore him.He was tall, thin and haggard, impatient and tense in his movements, his face was gray, and his eyes were restless and lifeless like a drug addict. "About what I'm here to do." "You...you can't do anything here," he snapped, both afraid that this was a scam and that he was left behind by some important upper-level decision. "Aren't you a traitor, a fugitive and—" "It seems that you are really out of date, my good brother." The rest of the seven people in the room stared at him with awe and suspicion. The two guards with guns were still pointing their guns at him like robots, but he didn't seem to see them at all. "Then what do you say you are here for?" the leader shouted. "I'm here to take over the prisoner you handed over." "If you're from Headquarters, you should know that I know nothing about the prisoner—and that no one is allowed to touch him." "Only I can." The boss jumped up, ran to the phone, and grabbed the receiver.But as soon as he raised the receiver halfway, he suddenly threw it out. At this moment, there was an immediate panic in the room: he heard that there was no movement on the phone, and he knew immediately that the phone line had been cut. He turned angrily to Rearden, who was greeted with a slightly contemptuous reprimand: "If even this happens, your guards are useless. If you don't want me to sue you for negligence and disobedience Zun, it's better to hand over the prisoner to me before something happens to him." "Who is the prisoner?" he asked. "Man," said Reardon, "if your boss hasn't told you, I certainly won't." "They didn't tell me about your coming here either!" the leader yelled wildly, his voice full of embarrassment and anger so that his men could hear his incompetence. "How do I know you're from above? Who can tell me when the phone breaks? How do I know what to do?" "That's your problem, not mine." "I don't believe you!" he shouted harshly and unconvincingly. "I don't believe the government has assigned you any mission, and you're one of the defectors collaborating with John Galt—" "But haven't you heard?" "What did you hear?" "John Galt has made a deal with the government and has brought us all back." "Oh, thank God!" exclaimed one of the youngest guards. "Shut up! You don't have the right to express your opinion!" The leader scolded, and turned to look at Rearden suddenly, "Why didn't this matter get broadcast?" "Do you also have an opinion on when and how the government decides to announce policy?" In a long silence, they heard the animals in their cages scratching at the bars. "It seems I should remind you," said Reardon, "that your job is not to question the orders given to you, but to carry them out. You should not know and understand your boss's thinking, you should not judge, Choose or doubt." "But I don't know if I should listen to you!" "If you don't listen, there will be consequences." The chief propped himself on the table, his scrutinizing gaze slowly shifted from Rearden's face to the two guards with guns standing in the corner of the room.The two gunmen held their arms almost motionless.There was an uneasy rustling in the room, and a squeaky scream from an animal in its cage. "I think I should also tell you," Reardon's voice was a little harsher, "I am not alone. My companion is waiting for me outside." "Where?" "There are four sides of the room." "Several people?" "You'll know that sooner or later." "I say, boss," came a shaky grumble from among the guards, "let's get out of those people, they—" "Shut up!" the leader snarled, stood up, and swung his gun in the direction of the speaker, "You bastards, no one is allowed to pretend to be a bear in front of me!" He shouted loudly, trying to hide himself They already look scared.He was horrified to discover that his men had been unwittingly disarmed by something. "There's nothing to be afraid of!" he yelled to himself, desperately trying to get back to the only place where he felt safe: violence. "Nothing and no one to be afraid of! I'll show you." He turned suddenly, and shot Reardon with a trembling hand at the end of the dancing arm. Some of them saw Reardon sway, his right hand grasping his left shoulder.At the same time, the others heard the leader scream, the gun in his hand fell to the ground, and a stream of blood gushed from his wrist.Then they all saw Francisco d'Anconia standing by the left-hand door, his silent pistol still aimed at the chief. They all stood up and drew their guns, but unfortunately they had missed the opportunity, and no one dared to fire. "If I were you, I wouldn't act rashly," Francisco said. "Oh my God!" One of the guards was so startled that he couldn't speak, he tried his best to recall a name that he couldn't remember, "He...he is the one who blows up all the copper mines in the world! " "That's right," said Reardon. Involuntarily they dodged back from Francisco--turning to find Reardon still standing in the doorway, a pistol in his right hand, blood seeping from his left shoulder. "Shoot, you bastards!" the leader yelled at the trembling people below him. "What are you waiting for? Kill them!" He propped up the table with one hand, and the other hand was dripping with blood. Blood. "I will report anyone who doesn't do anything, and I will let him be sentenced to death!" "Put down your guns!" said Reardon. The seven guards instantly became like clay sculptures, not listening to anyone. "I want to get out!" The youngest guard yelled and rushed to the door on the right. As soon as he opened the door, he stepped back: Dagny Taggart was standing in the doorway with a gun. The guards gradually retreated to the center of the room, and an invisible struggle was going on in their bewildered hearts. The few legendary figures who appeared in front of them, which they could never have imagined to see with their own eyes, made them feel overwhelmed. Lost the ability to resist like a cloud of mist, as if ordered to fire at the ghost. "Put the gun down," Reardon said. "You don't know why you're here, but we do. You don't know who the prisoner is on guard, but we do. You don't know why your superiors sent you to guard." He, but we know why we took him out. You don't know the purpose of your resistance, but we are very clear about our purpose. Once you die, you don't know why you died, but we will die knowing it. " "Don't...don't listen to him!" the leader roared, "Shoot! I order you to shoot!" A guard looked at the leader, dropped his gun, raised his hands, and exited the circle confronting Rearden. "You bastard!" screamed the leader, grabbed the gun with his left hand, and fired at the fleeing man. At the same time that the person's body fell, the glass on the window burst like raindrops—a tall and slender figure leaped from the tree trunk into the room like a spring, and as soon as his feet hit the ground, he threw himself into the room. The first guard in front of him opened fire. "Who are you?" a voice full of horror shouted. "Lagona Dennisjord." As soon as he had finished speaking, there were three voices: a terrified wail—four guns fell to the ground with a clatter—and the sound of a fifth gun being fired at the chieftain's forehead. When the other four guards who saved their lives came to their senses, they were already lying on the ground, their hands and feet were bound, and their mouths were tightly gagged; the fifth guard was still standing there, but his hands were tied behind his back. "Where is the prisoner?" Francisco asked him. "I think . . . in the basement." "Who has the key?" "Dr. Ferris." "Where are the stairs to the basement?" "Behind a door in Dr. Ferrez's office." "Lead us there." While walking there, Francisco turned to look at Reardon, "Hank, are you okay?" "fine." "Do you want to rest?" "No need to!" Through a door inside Ferrez's office, they saw a guard standing below. "Hands up, come up!" Francisco ordered. The guard saw the shadow of a stranger and the faint glint of the muzzle: that was enough.He obeyed immediately, and seemed eager to get out of the dank stone cellar.Together with the guard who led the way, he was tied up on the floor of the office. After the four rescuers took care of everything, they finally rushed towards the locked iron gate below with confidence. They have always cooperated closely and methodically.At this moment, they can't wait. Dennis Yoder brought the lock-smashing guy.Francisco was the first to go into the basement, and stopped Dagny a little with his arm—to make sure there was nothing wrong with what was in sight—before she rushed past him: he had already seen through a tangle of wires. Galt's raised head and saluting gaze. She knelt beside the mat.Galt raised his head and looked at her, just like when they first met in the early morning valley, his smile seemed to have never been touched by the slightest pain, and his voice was soft and low: "We never have to worry too much ,Right?" Tears rolled down her cheeks, but with a smile of total and confident affirmation, she replied, "Yeah, we never have to." Reardon and Dennis Yoder were busy untying him, and Francisco put a small bottle of brandy to Galt's mouth.Galt drank, half propped up on his newly freed elbow, and said, "Give me a cigarette." Francisco pulled out a pack of cigarettes emblazoned with dollar signs.When Galt moved the cigarette to the lighter, his hands trembled a little, and Francisco's trembled even more. Galt glanced at Francisco's eyes above the flames and smiled, as if answering a question that Francisco didn't ask, "Yeah, it doesn't feel good, but I can hold on — and they use voltages that don't hurt anyone." "I'm going to find them one day, whoever they are..." Francisco said; his tone, cold and almost inaudible, said more. Galt looked at the faces beside him; he saw their relieved eyes and furious expressions; he knew that they were also feeling his torment at this moment. "It's over," he said, "don't torture yourselves any more for what I've been through." Francisco turned his face away, "Because it's you..." he murmured, "It's you...if anyone else..." "But if they want to go all in, it's me, and they tried"—he waved his hand, pointing to everything in the room—pointing to the past that they had reduced to ruins—" But that's all." Francisco nodded, face still turned to the side; only responded by squeezing Galt's wrist firmly for a moment. Galt sat up and slowly moved his muscles.Dagny couldn't help reaching out her hand to help him.He looked up and saw tears in her smile; she cared nothing so long as his naked body was still alive, though she knew what he had endured.He stared into her eyes, raised his hand and touched the collar of the white jumper she was wearing, telling and reminding her what is the most important thing in the future.Her lips trembled slightly, with a relaxed smile, telling him that she understood. Dennis Yoder found Galt's shirt, pants, and other clothing in the corner. "John, do you think you can walk?" he asked. "no problem." While Francisco and Reardon were helping Galt to dress, Dennis Yoder deadpanned, calmly and methodically smashed the tormenting machine to pieces. Galt can't walk yet, but he can stand up against Francisco.The first few steps were difficult, but by the time he reached the door, he had regained the feeling of walking.He supported Francisco's shoulder with one hand, and put the other on Dagny's shoulder. While gaining support, he was also transmitting strength to her. They walked quietly down the hill, the dark shadows of the trees shielding them from the pale moonlight and the dead light from the windows of the National Academy behind them. Francisco's plane was hidden in the bushes next to the meadow behind the next hill.There was no human habitation within a radius of several miles around them. When Dennis Yoder sat behind the helm and started the engine, the headlights and the roar of the engine did not attract anyone's attention or question. Francisco finally smiled as the hatch closed tightly behind them, feeling a powerful forward momentum beneath his feet. "This is the only time I will be able to give you orders," he said as he helped Galt sit on a recliner. "Now lie still and relax...and you." Pointing to the seat next to Galt, he said to Dagny. The wheels ran faster and faster, as if they didn't care about the potholes on the ground at all, and only wanted to gain speed, direction and lightness.When the movement turned into a long, smooth trajectory, and when they saw the dark bushes pass by the window, Galt silently leaned over and kissed Dagny's hand lightly: He was leaving the outside world with everything he wanted to win. Francisco pulled out a first-aid kit and was removing Reardon's coat and bandaging his wound.Galt saw a trail of pink blood running from Reardon's shoulder to his chest. "Thank you, Hank," he said. Reardon laughed. "I'm going to say it again, what you said when we first met and I thanked you: 'If you understand what I'm doing for myself, you don't need to thank me.'" "I'll also repeat your answer to me: 'That's why I want to thank you,'" Galt said. Dagny saw that the eyes they looked at each other were as if they were clasping hands, and they promised each other, without any words.Reardon found her looking at them—his eyes narrowed slightly as if smiling approvingly, as if repeating the message he had sent her from down the valley. They suddenly heard Dennis Joad's loud voice speaking excitedly to the sky, and then they understood that he was talking on the radio on the plane: "Yes, we are all safe and well...Yes, he is not injured, but a little weak, and is resting... ...no, not a permanent damage...Yeah, we're all here. Hank Reardon's traumatized, but"—he looks back—"but he's grinning at me right now... ...Loss? I think we were a little bit overwhelmed at the time, but we're recovering... Don't get to Galt Canyon before me, I'll be the first to land - and then I'll be in the diner with Kay and make you breakfast .” "Is it possible for people outside to hear him?" asked Dagny. "No," Francisco said, "they can't get that frequency." "Who is he talking to?" Galt asked. "About half the men in the valley," Francisco said, "or as many as the planes we have can carry. They're right behind us right now. Who do you think will see you fall?" Still at home in the hands of looters? We are prepared to conduct an open armed attack on the Academy of Sciences or Wayne Falkland if necessary. But we know that if that happens, they will see If it doesn't work, there's a chance it could hit you. So we decided to let the four of us try first, and if it didn't work, the others would start an open attack. They were all waiting half a mile away. We were in the trees on the hillside Someone was arranged, and as soon as they saw us coming out, they passed the news on to the others. It was Ellis Witt who was in charge, and coincidentally, he was flying your plane. The reason why we were later than Dr. Ferrez One step to New Hampshire because we'd have to go hide and get on the plane a long way away, and he has the airfield ready. But, by the way, he's not going to have it for long." "Yes," said Galt, "not for long." "That was our only difficulty, and the rest was easy. I'll tell you the whole story later. At any rate, we broke their guard with only four men." "One day," Dennis Joad said, turning to them, "those brigands who believed they could rule by force over those above them will understand what happens when violence without reason meets reason and force." "They've learned their lesson," said Galt. "Isn't that what you've been teaching them for twelve years?" "Me? That's right. But the term is over. Tonight is the last time I use violence. This is my reward for twelve years. My men have now begun to settle in the valley, and my ships are hidden away. Found somewhere, until one day I sold it for a more civilized use. It's going to be converted into an ocean liner - not terribly massive, but it's sure to be nice. As for me, I'm going to start going Teaching another class, it seems that I have to review the works of our teacher's first teacher." Reardon laughed, "I really want to sit in the university and listen to your first philosophy class. Want to see how your students learn by heart and how you deal with irrelevant questions that I feel they should be asking." "I would tell them they're going to find out for themselves." There are few lights on the ground below, and the field is like an empty black sheet. Only a few lights flashing from the windows of government buildings and candles flickering in the windows of luxurious houses can be seen.Most country life has regressed to the point where artificial lighting is considered a great luxury, and as soon as the sun goes down, people stop moving.Towns are like puddles left by the receding tide, and although there are still a few precious drops of electricity in them, they are swallowed by the dry desert under the regulations of rationing, rationing, controlling and saving electricity. However, when New York, the source of the great tide, emerged before them, it was still radiating light to the sky, still unwilling to be shrouded in the darkness of the ages, as if exhausting its last strength, to the sky above it The plane opened its arms and let out a final cry for help.They sat up straight involuntarily, staring at this land that was once prosperous and great, but now it is pregnant with death. They could clearly see the last convulsions unfolding below: headlights flashing up and down the street like trapped beasts, frantically looking for an exit, the bridge was packed with cars, and the road to the bridge was blocked by a string of traffic. The long queue of car lights was blocked, and the sound of hysterical sirens could be faintly heard on the plane.The news of the destruction of the national main artery has spread throughout the city. People left their jobs and wanted to flee New York in panic, but all roads were completely paralyzed, and there was no way to escape at this time. The plane was flying over a tall building, and they only felt a sudden shake, as if a big hole was opened in the ground, and New York City disappeared from the ground.It took them a moment to realize that the panic below had spread to the power plant—and that New York had plunged into darkness. Dagny was so shocked that she couldn't breathe. "Don't look down," Galt ordered loudly. She looked up at him.As she had always seen, his face still had the grim face of reality. She remembered what Francisco had told her: "He quit the twentieth century company and lived in an attic in a slum, and he went to the window and pointed to the tall buildings in the city, and he said we must let all The lights go out, and once the lights go out in New York, we know we've made it." As she reflected, she watched the three of them—John Galt, Francisco d'Anconia, Ragna Dennisjord—and silently scanned them one by one. She glanced at Reardon; he was not looking down, but was, as she had seen him before, gazing out ahead of him over uncultivated fields with a planning eye. Looking at the dark front, another memory surged in her heart - when she hovered over the Afton Airport, she saw a silver-white plane rising from the pitch-black land like a phoenix.She knew in her heart that at this moment, their plane carried all of New York.She looks ahead.The earth will be as open as an unimpeded channel drawn by a propeller-open and free.She understands what Nate Taggart felt when he started his business, and why she followed in his footsteps for the first time: it was because she faced the blank with confidence, knowing that there would be a world waiting for her to create.At this moment, she felt all her past struggles reappearing before her, and then leaving her.She smiled—in the examination and preservation of the past, the words that appeared in her mind were courage, pride and dedication that most people have never understood. Those are the words that a businessman would say: "Reality is priceless." of." When she saw a small string of bright spots winding westward under the darkness, led and protected by headlights, she was neither surprised nor trembling; although she knew it was a train that had gone nowhere, she Still don't feel anything. She turned to Galt.He was watching her, and seemed to be following her thoughts.She saw her own smile on his face. "It's over," she said. "It's just getting started," he replied. Then they leaned back in their chairs and looked at each other silently.Just as they are feeling the future thoroughly, they feel the existence of each other deeply in their hearts-they also understand that a person must pay in order to have the right to express the value of his life concretely. They had flown far away from New York when Dennis Yoder answered a call from the radio: "Yes, he's still awake, I don't think he's going to sleep tonight... Yes, I miss him All right." He looked back, "John, Dr. Axton would like to speak to you." "What? Is he on a plane behind us, too?" "Of course." Galt leaned forward and grabbed the receiver. "Hello, Dr. Axton," he said; his calm, deep voice carried the air like a smiling picture. “你好，约翰，”休·阿克斯顿异常敏锐的沉稳声音表露出了他是多么盼望能再说出这句话来。“我就是想听听你的声音……只是想知道你还好。” 高尔特一笑——像是一个骄傲地拿出完成的作业，表明自己用心学习的学生那样说，“我当然很好了，教授，我只能如此。A 就是A。” 向东行驶的彗星特快列车的机车在亚利桑那州的沙漠中抛了锚。它像是一个从不担心自己背负过重的人却突然毫无征兆地停了下来一样：某个负荷过度的联结部件彻底断裂了。 艾迪·威勒斯等了很久，他叫的列车长才姗姗而至，从列车长脸上的那副听凭发落的表情上，他已猜出了问题的答案。 “司机正在尽力查找事故的原因，威勒斯先生。”他轻声回答，语气中暗示出他只抱一线希望，尽管他已经有好几年都看不到任何希望了。 “他难道不知道？” “他正在想办法。”列车长礼貌地等了半分钟后，便转身要走，但又停下来，主动解释了一句，似乎在隐约之间，某种理智的习惯告诉他，只要解释一下，就会使没有说出来的害怕变得容易忍受一些。“咱们的那些柴油机根本就不能再用了，威勒斯先生，它们很早以前就已经不值得一修了。” “我知道。”艾迪·威勒斯安静地说。 列车长发现他还不如不去解释：它只会带来那些如今已无人去问的问题。他摇了摇头，走了出去。 艾迪·威勒斯坐在车窗旁，望着外面漆黑的旷野。这是很久以来从旧金山发出的第一趟彗星特快：这是他费尽气力重建长途运输的心血。为了将旧金山车站从盲目内斗的人们手下挽救出来，他已说不清自己在过去几天里付出了什么样的代价；形势一会儿一变，他根本记不得自己做出了多少次妥协。他只知道：他从交战的三方头领那里获得了车站安全的保证；他找到了一个像是还没彻底灰心的人去做车站的站长；他组织现有最好的柴油机和车组人员，又发出了一趟东去的彗星特快列车；他登上了这列火车回纽约，完全不清楚他付出的这些努力还能坚持多久。 他从没这样拼命地工作过；他像对待其他任务那样尽心尽力地完成了这个工作；但他似乎是在一片真空里干着，似乎他的精力根本无从发挥，最后全都流进了彗星列车窗外的沙子里。他浑身一抖：感到自己和抛锚的机车一样同病相怜。 过了一阵，他又叫来了列车长，“怎么样了？” 列车长耸耸肩膀，摇了摇头。 “派司炉工去找轨道沿线的电话，让他通知分部，把最好的修理工派来。” "yes." 窗外无景可赏；艾迪·威勒斯关掉灯光，在深色仙人掌的点缀下，是一片无边无际的灰暗。他不禁想到在没有火车的年代里，人们是花费了怎样的代价才冒险越过了这片沙漠。他扭回头来，打开了车厢的灯。 他想，他之所以倍感焦虑，只是因为彗星列车没有着落。它是坏在了一段从南大西洋借行的轨道上，这段铁路他们并没有交纳借用费。一定得让它离开这里，他心想；一旦回到自己的轨道上，他就不会有这种感觉了。但是，那个位于密西西比河岸塔格特大桥的交汇点突然之间变得遥不可及。 不对，他又想道，还不仅仅是这些。他必须承认，眼前总是晃动着什么画面，带着一种令他既抓不住又无法驱散的不安的感觉；它们实在是模糊得难以认清，又莫名其妙地没法赶走。一幅画面就是他们两个多小时前没有停靠的小站：他注意到空旷的站台，以及站上候车室明亮的窗户；那灯光来自空无一人的房间；车站内外见不到一个人影。另一幅画面是他们途经的下一个小站：站台上挤满了骚动的暴徒。眼下，他们已经远离了任何一个车站的灯火。 他必须让彗星快车离开此地，他想。他奇怪自己为什么会感到如此的迫切，为什么将彗星快车重新开通会显得如此至关重要。在它空荡荡的车厢里，只坐了寥寥无几的乘客；人们已经无处可去，无事可做。他的努力并不是为了他们；他也说不出究竟是为了谁。只有两句话在他的脑子里回响，在用祷告般的含混和决绝的尖刻回答着他。一句话在说：联结起海洋，直到永远——另一句话则是：别让它垮了！ 一个钟头之后，列车长回来了，他带来了司炉工，那个人的脸色异常难看。 “威勒斯先生，”司炉工慢吞吞地说，“分区的总部没人接电话。” 艾迪·威勒斯坐了起来，尽管他的脑子仍不愿意相信，但还是突然明白过来，这正是他莫名其妙地预感到的情况。“这不可能！”他沉着嗓子说；司炉工望着他，没有动地方。“肯定是轨道边的电话坏了。” “不是，威勒斯先生，电话是好好的，没有问题，出问题的是分区总部。我是说，那里没人接电话，或者，谁都懒得去接。” “可你明知这是不可能的！” 司炉工无奈地耸了耸肩膀；如今这种时候，人们对任何事故都不会感到意外。 艾迪·威勒斯站起身来，“沿整个火车走一遍，”他向列车长吩咐着，“去敲所有住了人的车厢，看看车上有没有电机工程师。” "yes." 艾迪明白，他们和自己一样都觉得找不出来；他们见过的那些昏昏沉沉、行尸走肉般的乘客里不会有这样的人。“走啊。”他转过身向司炉工命令道。 他们一起爬上了火车头。头发花白的列车司机正坐在座位上望着仙人掌发呆。车头的大灯亮着，一动不动，笔直地射进黑夜，灯光所及之处，只能看到渐渐模糊的枕木。 “咱们试着来查一查故障在哪里，”艾迪边脱外套边说，声音既像是命令，又如同是在乞求，“咱们再好好查一查。” “是。”司机既不反感、也不抱任何希望地回答。 司机已经绞尽脑汁；他查过了每一处他能想到的地方。他在机器上下敲打了个遍，将零件松开再拧紧，卸下再装回去，将发动机拆来拆去，就像一个拆开了钟表的孩子，只是不像孩子那样坚信会有办法。 司炉工不断地从机车的窗户里探出头去，望向沉寂的黑夜，他打着冷战，似乎感觉到了渐冷的夜色。 “别担心，”艾迪带着一副很有信心的口气说道，“我们必须尽力而为，不过我们要是没办法的话，他们早晚都会派人来帮我们，他们不会把火车丢在外面不管。” “他们过去是不会。”司炉工说。 司机不时抬起他那满是油污的脸，望着艾迪·威勒斯沾满油污的面孔和衬衣，“这有什么用啊，威勒斯先生？”他问。 “我们不能让它垮掉！”艾迪厉声答道；他隐隐地感到，他指的不仅仅是彗星列车……也不仅仅是铁路。 艾迪·威勒斯从车头摸索到联结着发动机的三节车身，然后又摸索回来，他的手碰出了血，衬衣贴住了后背，拼命回想着他对于发动机的所有记忆，回想着他在大学里学过的一切，以及更早的时候，他在洛克戴尔车站不断被人轰下伐木机的踏板时所学到的一点东西。这些记忆什么都连不起来；他的脑子似乎搅成了一团；他知道发动机不是他的专长，知道他并不懂这些，知道他此刻只有把它搞明白才能死里逃生。他看着那些管子、页片、线路和闪着亮光的操作台。他尽量不去想那个不断压迫进来的念头：根据数学概率，对于外行来说，仅凭运气，能有多大的机会，要花多久的时间，才能找对零件，重新修好这台机车的发动机？ “没什么用啊，威勒斯先生？”司机唉声叹气道。 “我们不能让它垮掉！”他叫着。 不知过了多少个小时，他突然听见司炉工喊道，“威勒斯先生，快看！” 司炉工探出窗外，向他们后方的黑暗中指去。 艾迪·威勒斯寻声望去，只见远处晃动着一个奇怪的亮点；看上去前进得十分缓慢；他怎么也辨认不出那是什么灯光。 过了一阵，他似乎看出慢慢前移的是一些庞大的黑影；它们是在沿着铁轨的方向移动；那点亮光在距地面很近的地方摇晃着；他侧耳细听，却没有任何动静。 随即，他听见了一阵微弱低沉的声音，犹如马蹄踏响。他身旁的两个人满脸惊恐地注视着那团黑影，仿佛是某种魔幻般的幽灵从沙漠的暗夜里向他们飘来。 当他们终于看清来者的样子，顿时欣喜若狂地笑了出来时，艾迪却仿佛看见了极其恐怖的鬼魂，脸上露出了恐慌：过来的是一列盖有帆篷的四轮马车。走到机车的旁边时，晃悠着的吊灯停了下来。“嗨，伙计，要不要捎你们一段？”一个像是管事的人喊道；他嘿嘿一笑，“车坏了吧？” 彗星快车上的旅客们纷纷探出头来张望；有些人下了列车，向这边走来。女人们的脸从马车的车厢和里面堆放的家私中探了出来；车队的后方传出了婴儿的啼哭声。 “你不要命啦？”艾迪·威勒斯问道。 “不是的，兄弟，我是当真的，我们有的是地方。要是你们想从这里出去，我们可以让你们搭车——不过得付钱。”此人身材瘦削，神态很不自然，胡乱地挥着手，声音粗野无礼，看上去像是个路边杂耍的拉客者。 “这是塔格特的彗星快车。”艾迪·威勒斯忍住火气说。 “彗星，是吗？我看它倒更像是一只死虫子。怎么了，兄弟？你们已经哪儿也去不成了——就算你们还想去，也到不了了。” "What do you mean?" “你们不是还打算去纽约吧？” “我们就是要去纽约。” “那……你们没听说吗？” "What did you hear?" “你们和车站的上一次联系是什么时候？” “我不记得了！……到底发生了什么？” “你们的塔格特大桥不见了，没有了，它已经粉身碎骨，好像是被声波之类的东西炸掉的，谁都说不准究竟是怎么回事，不过，的确是再也找不出能过密西西比河的大桥了。至少对你我这样的人来说，别指望能到纽约了。” 艾迪·威勒斯顿时昏了过去；他瘫倒在司机的座椅旁边，呆呆地瞪着通向发动机车身的门口；他不清楚自己在这里躺了多久，但当他转头一看时，发现已经只剩下了他自己。司机和司炉工离开了驾驶室，外面人声嘈杂，夹杂着尖叫、哭泣和疑问的叫喊，以及那个路边拉客者的大笑。 艾迪强撑着身体，爬到了驾驶室的窗前：彗星列车上的旅客和车组人员将马车管事的头头和他的几个蓬头垢面的随从簇拥在了当中；他正挥舞着自己枯瘦的胳膊，在那里发号施令。彗星列车上的几个穿戴稍讲究点的女人正心疼地抓紧着她们精美的化妆包，向马车上爬去——显然，她们的丈夫们已经先行一步，和对方谈好了条件。 “上来吧，伙计们，上来吧！”拉客者鼓动地喊叫着，“所有人都会有地方的！ 挤是挤了点，但可以走——总比待在这里喂野狗强啊！铁马的日子已经过去啦，我们只有最普通的老马！虽然慢，但是靠得住！ " 艾迪·威勒斯沿着机车的扶梯走下一半，以便能看清人群，也能让自己的声音被大家听到。他一手抓住扶杆，一手挥舞着，“你们不会走吧？”他冲着自己的旅客喊着，“你们不会撇下彗星吧？” 他们像是不想去看他或回答他一样，退后了几步。他们不想听见令自己的头脑难以承受的问题。他的眼前只有一片惊惶的面孔。 “那个泥猴子想要干吗？”拉客者指着艾迪问。 “威勒斯先生，”列车长轻声地说，“这是没用的……” “不要抛下彗星列车！”艾迪喊叫道，“不要让它毁了！上帝啊，不要让它毁了！” “你是不是疯了？”拉客者号叫着，“你根本就不知道你们的车站和公司里面出了什么样的事情！他们现在就像一群无头的苍蝇！我看，用不着到明天早上，密西西比河的这一边就连一家铁路公司都不会存在了！” “还是一起走吧，威勒斯先生。”列车长说。 “不！”艾迪大叫着，他的手紧抓着扶杆，像是恨不得同它变成一体。 拉客者耸了耸肩膀，“好吧，它可是你的葬身之地！” “你们去哪儿？”司机问话时没有去看艾迪。 “一直走就是了，兄弟！只要能找个停脚的地方。我们是从加州的皇谷来，一帮'人民党'抢光了我们的庄稼和储备的粮食。他们把那称做储藏。因此我们就凑了一些人，离家出走，为了防范华盛顿的走狗，我们只能晚上赶路……我们只是想找个能活下来的地方……伙计，如果你没有家的话，可以一起走——或者可以在离城镇近点的地方下车。” 马车上的这些人——艾迪漠然地想道——刻薄得不像是建立秘密自由定居点的人，也还没有凶恶到劫匪的地步；他们就像那束一动不动的车灯，什么都不会找到，然后便会在这片荒漠中消失。 他站在扶梯上，抬眼向车灯望去。直到彗星列车上的最后一个人登上马车，他也没再回头去看一眼。 列车长最后一次叫道，“威勒斯先生！”他的喊声中透出了急切与绝望，“一起走吧！” “不。”艾迪说。 路旁的拉客者冲着在火车头上的艾迪扬了扬手，“但愿你没头脑发昏！”他半带威胁半带恳求地喊。“也许下个星期，或者下个月会有路过的人把你捎上！也许吧！现在这种时候，谁还会来？” “走开。”艾迪·威勒斯说。 他回到了驾驶室内——马车抖动了一下，继续吱吱呀呀地向黑暗的夜色之中摇摆而去。他坐在瘫痪了发动机的列车的司机座上，脑门顶着失去作用的阀门。他觉得自己仿佛是一艘失事的远洋轮船的船长，宁愿和他的船一同沉没，也不愿被划小舟的蛮人搭救，听他们用奚落自己的口气，向他炫耀他们的那条小船。 随即，他突然间感到一股无名的气恼直撞上头。他站了起来，抓住阀门。他非得发动这列火车不可；为了那个他说不出来的胜利，他一定得让引擎转动起来。 他不再去想和算计，也忘记了害怕，在一股正义无畏的力量的驱使下，他胡乱地拉着扳手，前后推动着气阀，脚踩着死去的踏板，他在摸索着辨认那个忽远忽近的幻象，他的心中只有一个念头，这个幻象正是他不顾一切进行搏斗的力量源泉。 不要让它垮掉！他的眼前看到了纽约的街道，心里发出呐喊——不要让它垮掉！他看到了铁路的信号灯——不要让它垮掉——他看到烟雾从工厂的烟囱中豪迈地升起，看到他挣扎着穿过烟雾，到达这些景象的深处，找到他的幻象。 他拽着电线，把它们连起来，再分开——眼里仿佛突然闪现出了阳光和松树。达格妮！他听见自己无声地叫喊着——达格妮，以我们最崇高的名义！ ... 他摇晃着那些废物一样的扳手和无处发力的阀门……达格妮！他在向被阳光照耀下的树林空地上的那个十二岁的小姑娘叫喊——以我们最崇高的名义，我现在必须发动这列火车！……达格妮，就是为了这个……那个时候你已经知道，可我还没有……你在转身向铁轨望去的时候就已经知道……我说过，“不仅仅是做生意和养活自己”……但是，达格妮，做生意和养活自己，以及人们能够去实现这一切——那才是我们心里最崇高、需要我们去捍卫的东西……为了拯救它，达格妮，我现在必须发动这列火车…… 他发现自己瘫倒在驾驶室的地面上，意识到待在这里已无济于事，便爬起身来，走下扶梯，他心里还在隐隐地想着机车的轮子，尽管他知道司机已经检查过了。走到地面上，他感到了脚下沙土的松软。他站立不动，在无边的寂静之中，他听到草在黑暗中簌簌作响，仿佛在动弹不得的彗星列车旁，有一支看不见的部队正在自由地行进。他听到附近传出清晰的沙沙声——看到一只兔子模样的灰影子直起腰来，嗅着塔格特彗星列车一节车厢下的轮子。他冒出一股要杀人般的怒火，向兔子的方向猛扑了过去，仿佛他能够打退那个化身为灰色小动物的敌人的进攻。兔子蹿入了茫茫的黑暗之中——但他明白，这进攻是无法被打退的。 他走到车头前，仰望着上面那两个TT。接着，他便倒在铁轨上，扑在火车头的脚下泣不成声。车灯的光束漠然越过他的头顶，射向无尽的夜空。 理查德·哈利的第五协奏曲从他的键盘上溢出，穿过玻璃窗，挥散在空中，传遍了山谷里的每家灯火。它是一曲胜利的交响乐。音符涌起，它们既表达着上升，本身亦是在升腾，它们便是向上运行的实质与形式，似乎表现出了所有以上进为动力的人的行动和思想。它的声音如红日喷薄，冲破了黑暗，照亮了四方。 它既带着挣脱束缚的自由欢快，又有着目的性十足的严谨。它荡清了一切，身后只留下尽情奋斗的喜悦。声音里只有一点微弱的失去音色的回声，不过那也伴随着惊奇的大笑，因为发现了那里面并没有丑恶或苦痛，发现根本就无需它们存在。它是一首深邃的救赎之歌。 山谷里的灯光在白雪依旧覆盖的大地上闪烁出一片片的光芒。大雪在山崖和松柏粗重的枝头间层叠堆积，但裸露的桦树枝条则在隐约间向上拔起，似乎在充满信心地承诺着春叶的萌芽。 山坡边上的那一方亮灯的地方是穆利根的书房。麦达斯·穆利根坐在桌旁，面前是一张地图和一串数字。他正在开列着自己银行的资产，并且制订着一项预计投资的计划。他在自己选好的地方做着记号：“纽约—克里夫兰—芝加哥……纽约—费城……纽约……纽约……纽约……” 山谷底下亮灯的地方是拉各那·丹尼斯约德的家。凯·露露坐在镜子前，饶有兴趣地研究着摊在一个盒子里的电影胶片。拉各那·丹尼斯约德躺在沙发里，正读着一卷亚里士多德的著作集：“……因为这些真理适用于存在的万事万物，并不专注于某些特殊的类别。它们适用于就其本身而言的存在，因此即为世人所公认……凡能被任何一个稍有理解力的人所理解的原理必定不是假设……那么显然，这样的原理在所有的原理当中最为确实；让我们进而说明这是一个什么样的原理，它就是：同样的特性在同一时间就同一方面而言不能同时既属于又不属于同一个主体……” 在广阔的农场上灯光亮起的地方是纳拉冈赛特法官家藏书室的窗户。他坐在桌前，灯光映照着一本古籍文献。他标出和划掉了曾经断送了这本书的矛盾语句。此时，他正在书页上添加着新的一句：“国会须严禁对生产和贸易的自由进行剥夺的法律……” 丛林深处亮着灯光的地方是弗兰西斯科·德安孔尼亚木屋的窗户。弗兰西斯科席地坐在火光跳跃的炉前，俯在图纸上，完成着他对熔炉的设计。汉克·里尔登和艾利斯·威特坐在炉火旁边。“约翰会设计出新式的火车机车，”里尔登说道，“达格妮将会管理第一条联结纽约和费城的铁路。她——”一听到接下来的这句话，弗兰西斯科突然抬头大笑了起来，那是一种迎接胜利的轻松的笑声。他们听不见此刻正缭绕在屋顶半空的哈利的第五协奏曲的音乐声，但弗兰西斯科的笑却与它正相吻合。弗兰西斯科从自己听到的那句话里，正看着春天的阳光照耀着全国家家户户的草地，看着发动机迸出的火花，看着崭新的摩天大楼那升起的钢铁骨架正熠熠生辉，看着年青一代憧憬未来的目光里没有犹疑或畏惧。 里尔登说的那句话是：“她收的运费或许会让我脱掉一层皮，不过——我将可以负担得起。” 在人力可及的山顶，那随风缓缓起伏着的淡淡闪亮，是星星闪烁在高尔特头发上的光芒。他伫立眺望的不是脚下的山谷，而是围绕在山峰外面的黑沉沉的世界。达格妮的手扶着他的肩膀，风将他们的头发吹拂在了一起。她知道他今晚为什么想来登山，以及他停在此处沉思着什么。她知道他要说的话，并且知道她将会第一个听到。 他们望不到山峦之外的世界，只能看见一望无边的黑暗和山崖，只是那黑暗正掩盖着一片破碎的土地：顶棚掀掉的房屋，生锈的拖拉机，不见灯光的街道，废弃的铁路。但在遥远的天边，一团小小的火焰正在风中舞动，那正是倔强而不肯低头的威特火炬的烈焰，在夜风的撕扯下摇摆着站稳，绝不栽倒或者熄灭。它似乎是在呼唤和等待着高尔特此时想说的话。 “道路已经清理干净，”高尔特说，“我们就要重返世界了。” 他抬起手，在满目苍凉的大地上空划出了一个美元的符号。