Atlas Shrugged [175]
"It probably serves me right. I shouldn't have expected anything. 1
don't know what it was that I wanted."
"I do."
"I've never liked occasions of that sort. I don't see why I expected it to be different, this time. . . . You know, I went there feeling almost as if the Metal had changed everything, even people."
"Oh yes, Hank, I know!"
"Well, it was the wrong place to seek anything. . . . Do you remember? You said once that celebrations should be only for those who have something to celebrate."
The dot of her lighted cigarette stopped in mid-air; she sat still. She had never spoken to him of that party or of anything related to his home. In a moment., she answered quietly, "I remember."
"1 know what you meant . . . I knew it then, too."
He was looking straight at her. She lowered her eyes.
He remained silent; when he spoke again, his voice was gay. "The worst thing about people is not the insults they hand out, but the compliments. I couldn't bear the kind they spouted tonight, particularly when they kept saying how much everybody needs me-they, the city, the country and the whole world, I guess. Apparently, their idea of the height of glory is to deal with people who need them. I can't stand people who need me." He glanced at her. "Do you need me?"
She answered, her voice earnest, "Desperately."
He laughed. "No. Not the way I meant. You didn't say it the way they do."
"How did I say it?"
"Like a trader-who pays for what he wants. They say it like beggars who use a tin cup as a claim check."
"I . . . pay for it, Hank?"
"Don't look innocent. You know exactly what I mean."
"Yes," she whispered; she was smiling.
"Oh, to hell with them!" he said happily, stretching his legs, shifting the position of his body on the couch, stressing the luxury of relaxation. "I'm no good as a public figure. Anyway, it doesn't matter now.
We don't have to care what they see or don't see. They'll leave us alone. It's clear track ahead. What's the next undertaking, Mr. Vice-President?"
"A transcontinental track of Rearden Metal."
"How soon do you want it?"
"Tomorrow morning. Three years from now is when I'll get it."
"Think you can do it in three years?"
"If the John Galt . . . if the Rio Norte Line does as well as it's doing now."
"It's going to do better. That's only the beginning."
"I have an installment plan made out. As the money comes in, I'm going to start tearing up the main track, one division at a time, and replacing it with Rearden Metal rail."
"Okay. Any time you wish to start."
"I'll keep moving the old rail to the branch lines-they won't last much longer, if I don't. In three years, you'll ride on your own Metal into San Francisco, if somebody wants to give you a banquet there."
"In three years, I'll have mills pouring Rearden Metal in Colorado, in Michigan and in Idaho. That's my installment plan."
"Your own mills? Branches?"
"Uh-huh."
"What about the Equalization of Opportunity Bill?"
"You don't think it's going to exist three years from now, do you?
We've given them such a demonstration that all that rot is going to be swept away. The whole country is with us. Who'll want to stop things now? Who'll listen to the bilge? There's a lobby of the better kind of men working In Washington right this moment. They're going to get the Equalization Bill scrapped at the next session."
"I . . . I hope so."
"I've had a terrible time, these last few weeks, getting the new furnaces started, but it's all set now, they're being built, I can sit back and take it easy. I can sit at my desk, rake in the money, loaf like a bum, watch the orders for the Metal pouring in and play favorites ail over the place. . . . Say, what's the first train you've got for Philadelphia tomorrow morning?"
"Oh, I don't know."
"You don't? What's the use of an Operating Vice-president? I have to be at the mills by seven tomorrow. Got anything running around six?"
"Five-thirty A.M. is the first one, I think."
"Will you wake me up in time to make it or would you rather