Atlas Shrugged [343]
not your profits."
"It's not a question of profits!" yelled Taggart hastily. "I haven't said anything about profits. I haven't given you any grounds to insult me.
It's just a question of where in hell we'd get the money to pay your men-when half our trains are running empty and there's not enough freight to fill a trolley car." His voice slowed down suddenly to a tone of cautious thoughtfulness: "However, we do understand the plight of the working men, and-it's just a thought -we could, perhaps, take on a certain extra number, if we were permitted to double our freight rates, which-"
"Have you lost your mind?" yelled Orren Boyle. "I'm going broke on the rates you're charging now, I shudder every time a damn boxcar pulls in or out of the mills, they're bleeding me to death, I can't afford it-and you want to double it?"
"It is not essential whether you can afford it or not," said Taggart coldly, "You have to be prepared to make some sacrifices. The public needs railroads. Need conies first-above your profits."
"What profits?" yelled Orren Boyle. "When did I ever make any profits? Nobody can accuse me of running a profit-making business!
Just look at my balance sheet-and then look at the books of a certain competitor of mine, who's got all the customers, all the raw materials, all the technical advantages and a monopoly on secret formulas-then tell me who's the profiteer! . . . But, of course, the public does need railroads, and perhaps I could manage to absorb a certain raise in rates, if I were to get-it's just a thought-if I were to get a subsidy to carry me over the next year or two, until I catch my stride and-"
"What? Again?" yelled Mr. Weatherby, losing his primness. "How many loans have you got from us and how many extensions, suspensions and moratoriums? You haven't repaid a penny-and with all of you boys going broke and the tax receipts crashing, where do you expect us to get the money to hand you a subsidy?"
"There are people who aren't broke," said Boyle slowly. "You boys have no excuse for permitting all that need and misery to spread through the country-so long as there are people who aren't broke."
"I can't help it!" yelled Wesley Mouch. "I can't do anything about it!
I need wider powers!"
They could not tell what had prompted Mr. Thompson to attend this particular conference. He had said little, but had listened with interest. It seemed as if there were something which he had wanted to learn, and now he looked as if he had learned it. He stood up and smiled cheerfully.
"Go ahead, Wesley," he said. "Go ahead with Number 10-289. You won't have any trouble at all,"
They had all risen to their feet, in gloomily reluctant deference. Wesley Mouch glanced down at his sheet of paper, then said in a petulant tone of voice, "If you want me to go ahead, you'll have to declare a state of total emergency."
"I'll declare it any time you're ready."
"There are certain difficulties, which-"
"I'll leave it up to you. Work it out any way you wish. It's your job.
Let me see the rough draft, tomorrow or next day, but don't bother me about the details. I've got a speech to make on the radio in half an hour."
"The chief difficulty is that I'm not sure whether the law actually grants us the power to put into effect certain provisions of Directive Number 10-289.1 fear they might be open to challenge."
"Oh hell, we've passed so many emergency laws that if you hunt through them, you're sure to dig up something that will cover it."
Mr. Thompson turned to the others with a smile of good fellowship.
"I'll leave you boys to iron out the wrinkles," he said. "I appreciate your coming to Washington to help us out. Glad to have seen you."
They waited until the door closed after him, then resumed their seats; they did not look at one another.
They had not heard the text of Directive No. 10-289, but they knew what it would contain. They had known it for a long time, in that special manner which consisted of keeping secrets from oneself and leaving knowledge untranslated