Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand [283]
“That’s what I am,” said Rearden.
“That’s what I thought,” said Dr. Ferris. “You rose to riches in an age when most men were going bankrupt, you’ve always managed to blast obstacles, to keep your mills going and to make money—that’s your reputation—so you wouldn’t want to be impractical now, would you? What for? What do you care, so long as you make money? Leave the theories to people like Bertram Scudder and the ideals to people like Balph Eubank—and be yourself. Come down to earth. You’re not the man who’d let sentiment interfere with business.”
“No,” said Rearden slowly, “I wouldn’t. Not any kind of sentiment.”
Dr. Ferris smiled. “Don’t you suppose we knew it?” he said, his tone suggesting that he was letting his patent-leather hair down to impress a fellow criminal by a display of superior cunning. “We’ve waited a long time to get something on you. You honest men are such a problem and such a headache. But we knew you’d slip sooner or later—and this is just what we wanted.”
“You seem to be pleased about it.”
“Don’t I have good reason to be?”
“But, after all, I did break one of your laws.”
“Well, what do you think they’re for?”
Dr. Ferris did not notice the sudden look on Rearden’s face, the look of a man hit by the first vision of that which he had sought to see. Dr. Ferris was past the stage of seeing; he was intent upon delivering the last blows to an animal caught in a trap.
“Did you really think that we want those laws to be observed?” said Dr. Ferris. “We want them broken. You’d better get it straight that it’s not a bunch of boy scouts you’re up against—then you’ll know that this is not the age for beautiful gestures. We’re after power and we mean it. You fellows were pikers, but we know the real trick, and you’d better get wise to it. There’s no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren’t enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws. Who wants a nation of law-abiding citizens? What’s there in that for anyone? But just pass the kind of laws that can neither be observed nor enforced nor objectively interpreted—and you create a nation of law-breakers—and then you cash in on guilt. Now that’s the system, Mr. Rearden, that’s the game, and once you understand it, you’ll be much easier to deal with.”
Watching Dr. Ferris watch him, Rearden saw the sudden twitch of anxiety, the look that precedes panic, as if a clean card had fallen on the table from a deck Dr. Ferris had never seen before.
What Dr. Ferris was seeing in Rearden’s face was the look of luminous serenity that comes from the sudden answer to an old, dark problem, a look of relaxation and eagerness together; there was a youthful clarity in Rearden’s eyes and the faintest touch of contempt in the line of his mouth. Whatever this meant—and Dr. Ferris could not decipher it -he was certain of one thing: the face held no sign of guilt.
“There’s a flaw in your system, Dr. Ferris,” Rearden said quietly,