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"
I
hope
there
wasn
’
t
,
ma
’
am
.
I
mean
,
I
hope
that
it
’
s
just
a
coincidence
,
just
a
sentence
that
hasn
’
t
any
meaning
.
"
"
You
had
something
in
mind
.
What
?
"
"
It
was
.
.
.
it
was
something
that
happened
at
that
first
meeting
at
the
Twentieth
Century
factory
.
Maybe
that
was
the
start
of
it
,
maybe
not
.
I
don
’
t
know
.
.
.
The
meeting
was
held
on
a
spring
night
,
twelve
years
ago
.
The
six
thousand
of
us
were
crowded
on
bleachers
built
way
up
to
the
rafters
of
the
plant
’
s
largest
hangar
.
We
had
just
voted
for
the
new
plan
and
we
were
in
an
edgy
sort
of
mood
,
making
too
much
noise
,
cheering
the
people
’
s
victory
,
threatening
some
kind
of
unknown
enemies
and
spoiling
for
a
fight
,
like
bullies
with
an
uneasy
conscience
.
There
were
white
arclights
beating
down
on
us
and
we
felt
kind
of
touchy
and
raw
,
and
we
were
an
ugly
,
dangerous
mob
in
that
moment
.
Gerald
Starnes
,
who
was
chairman
,
kept
hammering
his
gavel
for
order
,
and
we
quieted
down
some
,
but
not
much
,
and
you
could
see
the
whole
place
moving
restlessly
from
side
to
side
,
like
water
in
a
pan
that
’
s
being
rocked
.
‘
This
is
a
crucial
moment
in
the
history
of
mankind
!
’
Gerald
Starnes
yelled
through
the
noise
.
‘
Remember
that
none
of
us
may
now
leave
this
place
,
for
each
of
us
belongs
to
all
the
others
by
the
moral
law
which
we
all
accept
!
’
‘
I
don
’
t
,
’
said
one
man
and
stood
up
.
He
was
one
of
the
young
engineers
.
Nobody
knew
much
about
him
.
He
’
d
always
kept
mostly
by
himself
.
When
he
stood
up
,
we
suddenly
turned
dead
-
still
.
It
was
the
way
he
held
his
head
.
He
was
tall
and
slim
—
and
I
remember
thinking
that
any
two
of
us
could
have
broken
his
neck
without
trouble
—
but
what
we
all
felt
was
fear
.
He
stood
like
a
man
who
knew
that
he
was
right
.
‘
I
will
put
an
end
to
this
,
once
and
for
all
,
’
he
said
.
His
voice
was
clear
and
without
any
feeling
.
That
was
all
he
said
and
started
to
walk
out
.
He
walked
down
the
length
of
the
place
,
in
the
white
light
,
not
hurrying
and
not
noticing
any
of
us
.
Nobody
moved
to
stop
him
.
Gerald
Starnes
cried
suddenly
after
him
,
‘
How
?
’
He
turned
and
answered
,
‘
I
will
stop
the
motor
of
the
world
.
’
Then
he
walked
out
.
We
never
saw
him
again
.
We
never
heard
what
became
of
him
.
But
years
later
,
when
we
saw
the
lights
going
out
,
one
after
another
,
in
the
great
factories
that
had
stood
solid
like
mountains
for
generations
,
when
we
saw
the
gates
closing
and
the
conveyor
belts
turning
still
,
when
we
saw
the
roads
growing
empty
and
the
stream
of
cars
draining
off
,
when
it
began
to
look
as
if
some
silent
power
were
stopping
the
generators
of
the
world
and
the
world
was
crumbling
quietly
,
like
a
body
when
its
spirit
is
gone
—
then
we
began
to
wonder
and
to
ask
questions
about
him
.
We
began
to
ask
it
of
one
another
,
those
of
us
who
had
heard
him
say
it
.
We
began
to
think
that
he
had
kept
his
word
,
that
he
,
who
had
seen
and
known
the
truth
we
refused
to
know
,
was
the
retribution
we
had
called
upon
our
heads
,
the
avenger
,
the
man
of
that
justice
which
we
had
defied
.
We
began
to
think
that
he
had
damned
us
and
there
was
no
escape
from
his
verdict
and
we
would
never
be
able
to
get
away
from
him
—
and
this
was
the
more
terrible
because
he
was
not
pursuing
us
,
it
was
we
who
were
suddenly
looking
for
him
and
he
had
merely
gone
without
a
trace
.
We
found
no
answer
about
him
anywhere
.
We
wondered
by
what
sort
of
impossible
power
he
could
have
done
what
he
had
promised
to
do
.
There
was
no
answer
to
that
.
We
began
to
think
of
him
whenever
we
saw
another
collapse
in
the
world
,
which
nobody
could
explain
,
whenever
we
took
another
blow
,
whenever
we
lost
another
hope
,
whenever
we
felt
caught
in
this
dead
,
gray
fog
that
’
s
descending
all
over
the
earth
.
Perhaps
people
heard
us
crying
that
question
and
they
did
not
know
what
we
meant
,
but
they
knew
too
well
the
feeling
that
made
us
cry
it
.
They
,
too
,
felt
that
something
had
gone
from
the
world
.
Perhaps
this
was
why
they
began
to
say
it
,
whenever
they
felt
that
there
was
no
hope
.
I
’
d
like
to
think
that
I
am
wrong
,
that
those
words
mean
nothing
,
that
there
’
s
no
conscious
intention
and
no
avenger
behind
the
ending
of
the
human
race
.
But
when
I
hear
them
repeating
that
question
,
I
feel
afraid
.
I
think
of
the
man
who
said
that
he
would
stop
the
motor
of
the
world
.
You
see
,
his
name
was
John
Galt
.
"
She
awakened
,
because
the
sound
of
the
wheels
had
changed
.
It
was
an
irregular
beat
,
with
sudden
screeches
and
short
,
sharp
cracks
,
a
sound
like
the
broken
laughter
of
hysteria
,
with
the
fitful
jerking
of
the
car
to
match
it
.
She
knew
,
before
she
glanced
at
her
watch
,
that
this
was
the
track
of
the
Kansas
Western
and
that
the
train
had
started
on
its
long
detour
south
from
Kirby
,
Nebraska
.
The
train
was
half
-
empty
;
few
people
had
ventured
across
the
continent
on
the
first
Comet
since
the
tunnel
disaster
.
She
had
given
a
bedroom
to
the
tramp
,
and
then
had
remained
alone
with
his
story
.
