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"
I
did
not
expect
it
to
be
as
great
as
this
—
or
as
hard
.
"
It
had
grown
dark
and
the
mountains
had
blended
with
the
sky
.
Hanging
detached
in
space
,
there
were
the
lights
of
the
valley
below
them
,
the
red
breath
of
Stockton
’
s
foundry
above
,
and
the
lighted
string
of
windows
of
Mulligan
’
s
house
,
like
a
railroad
car
imbedded
in
the
sky
.
"
I
did
have
a
rival
,
"
said
Dr
.
Akston
slowly
.
"
It
was
Robert
Stadler
.
.
.
Don
’
t
frown
,
John
—
it
’
s
past
.
.
.
John
did
love
him
,
once
.
Well
,
so
did
I
—
no
,
not
quite
,
but
what
one
felt
for
a
mind
like
Stadler
’
s
was
painfully
close
to
love
,
it
was
that
rarest
of
pleasures
:
admiration
.
No
,
I
did
not
love
him
,
but
he
and
I
had
always
felt
as
if
we
were
fellow
survivors
from
some
vanishing
age
or
land
,
in
the
gibbering
swamp
of
mediocrity
around
us
.
The
mortal
sin
of
Robert
Stadler
was
that
he
never
identified
his
proper
homeland
.
.
.
He
hated
stupidity
.
It
was
the
only
emotion
I
had
ever
seen
him
display
toward
people
—
a
biting
,
bitter
,
weary
hatred
for
any
ineptitude
that
dared
to
oppose
him
.
He
wanted
his
own
way
,
he
wanted
to
be
left
alone
to
pursue
it
,
he
wanted
to
brush
people
out
of
his
path
—
and
he
never
identified
the
means
to
it
or
the
nature
of
his
path
and
of
his
enemies
.
He
took
a
short
cut
.
Are
you
smiling
,
Miss
Taggart
?
You
hate
him
,
don
’
t
you
?
Yes
,
you
know
the
kind
of
short
cut
he
took
.
.
.
He
told
you
that
we
were
rivals
for
these
three
students
.
That
was
true
—
or
rather
,
that
was
not
the
way
I
thought
of
it
,
but
I
knew
that
he
did
.
Well
,
if
we
were
rivals
,
I
had
one
advantage
:
I
knew
why
they
needed
both
our
professions
;
he
never
understood
their
interest
in
mine
.
He
never
understood
its
importance
to
himself
—
which
,
incidentally
,
is
what
destroyed
him
.
But
in
those
years
he
was
still
alive
enough
to
grasp
at
these
three
students
.
‘
Grasp
’
was
the
word
for
it
.
Intelligence
being
the
only
value
he
worshipped
,
he
clutched
them
as
if
they
were
a
private
treasure
of
his
own
.
He
had
always
been
a
very
lonely
man
.
I
think
that
in
the
whole
of
his
life
,
Francisco
and
Ragnar
were
his
only
love
,
and
John
was
his
only
passion
.
It
was
John
whom
he
regarded
as
his
particular
heir
,
as
his
future
,
as
his
own
immortality
.
John
intended
to
be
an
inventor
,
which
meant
that
he
was
to
be
a
physicist
;
he
was
to
take
his
postgraduate
course
under
Robert
Stadler
.
Francisco
intended
to
leave
after
graduation
and
go
to
work
;
he
was
to
be
the
perfect
blend
of
both
of
us
,
his
two
intellectual
fathers
:
an
industrialist
.
And
Ragnar
—
you
didn
’
t
know
what
profession
Ragnar
had
chosen
,
Miss
Taggart
?
No
,
it
wasn
’
t
stunt
pilot
,
or
jungle
explorer
,
or
deep
-
sea
diver
.
It
was
something
much
more
courageous
than
these
.
Ragnar
intended
to
be
a
philosopher
.
An
abstract
,
theoretical
,
academic
,
cloistered
,
ivory
-
tower
philosopher
.
.
.
Yes
,
Robert
Stadler
loved
them
.
And
yet
—
I
have
said
that
I
would
have
killed
to
protect
them
,
only
there
was
no
one
to
kill
.
If
that
were
the
solution
—
which
,
of
course
,
it
isn
’
t
—
the
man
to
kill
was
Robert
Stadler
.
Of
any
one
person
,
of
any
single
guilt
for
the
evil
which
is
now
destroying
the
world
—
his
was
the
heaviest
guilt
.
He
had
the
mind
to
know
better
.
His
was
the
only
name
of
honor
and
achievement
,
used
to
sanction
the
rule
of
the
looters
.
He
was
the
man
who
delivered
science
into
the
power
of
the
looters
’
guns
.
John
did
not
expect
it
.
Neither
did
I
.
.
.
John
came
back
for
his
postgraduate
course
in
physics
.
But
he
did
not
finish
it
.
He
left
,
on
the
day
when
Robert
Stadler
endorsed
the
establishment
of
a
State
Science
Institute
.
I
met
Stadler
by
chance
in
a
corridor
of
the
university
,
as
he
came
out
of
his
office
after
his
last
conversation
with
John
.
He
looked
changed
.
