The following story takes place after the Comet is stalled in Arizona, but before the strike ends. It is set in the present day

Chapter 1

The Driver

Eddie had given up on the Comet. He stayed in the locomotive for the night, but knew he didn't have the expertise to even try to fix it, so his only hope was to walk. If he could follow the tracks to Flagstaff, he would have a chance to get back to civilization.

Still, what the nomads had told him worried him. The Taggart Bridge was gone. The nation was cut. New York was doomed, and would starve soon. There was no use returning there. The only place he wanted to go to was a small town in Utah. Afton, Utah to be precise. He knew he could find answers if he could get to the former Utah Institute of Technology. That could be his only goal. Without Dagny he couldn't rebuilt the railroad, and he wouldn't want to.

Eddie had traded his only valuable left, his $5,000 watch, for a mule and began the trek. Following the route of US 66, he headed to Flagstaff, where he hoped he might be able to find better transportation north. He stopped at a diner about 20 miles outside of town when he noticed a man looking at him. He wouldn't have noticed him, except for the look on his face. It was similar to the worker he frequently ate with at the cafeteria; the man he found out not long ago was the real John Galt. There was no pain or worry on his face, rather it was completely serene and confident. He looked slightly over 30, a little overweight, but other than that in good health. It appeared that it may have been a couple of days since his last shower and shave, and his clothes were greasy, but other than that of good quality.

Shortly after the man finished his meal, he turned to Eddie and asked him," So, where are you headed friend?"

"Oh, I am trying to find a lost friend of mine. I think he still is in Afton, UT."

"Could I offer you a ride? I'm on my way to Salt Lake."

"I couldn't impose like that."

"It's no trouble. I have to go to Durango, CO first, but then I am heading home to just outside of Salt Lake City. Afton is more or less on the way."

"But, I have no way to pay you."

"We can work something out later."

"Thank you."

The two men headed outside the diner to see what the man was driving. It was a Peterbuilt 387, some years old, and nothing that you would notice. However once you stepped inside, it was unlike any tractor Eddie had seen in his life. There were more switches than usual. "Just relax," the truck driver told Eddie, "feel free to take a nap in the bunk. And there is water and sandwiches in the cooler back there. If you would like some, please help yourself."

"This is more than I deserve."

"No, it isn't. You deserve far more than this, but this is all I can offer you now."

Eddie was now confused about this man who was helping him. Was he a highwayman who had found an interesting target? Was he a friend? "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"A friend to the friendless, at least right now."

"Are you with him?"

"Who do you speak of?"

"John Galt."

"Relax, Mr. Willers." Eddie let out a gasp. He couldn't believe this man knew his name. "I am a friend of those who still know the value of hard work."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Jeremiah. I was born just outside of Chicago. I saw the rot of that city and moved away to Indianapolis. But when the fools in Washington decided to take more and more control over all industries, I began to sell off my business. I wasn't free to turn a profit, no matter how safe I was. And for the sake of "safety" they shut down my company."

"What line of business were you in?"

"The same as yours, just a different mode. I had owned 30 tractors, and almost 60 trailers, hauling expedited freight to the new markets in Colorado. Rail transport is only so fast, and so flexible. You almost always need another mode to get it between the rail and the customer. And with running the trucks with team drivers, they never sat. My best team could make the turn from Grand Junction to Indianapolis and back in just over 2 days, making three turns a week."

"But why did they say it was 'unsafe'?"

"Your boss." Eddie winced at this. "No, that's not fair. I don't mean Ms. Taggart, I mean her worthless brother. He convinced the FMCSA (Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration) that team driving was unsafe. How can someone sleep while a vehicle is moving down the highway? I did it for years, and always was well rested and never had an accident. In fact, all of my employees over the seven years I operated only had two accidents, and neither time were my employees at fault. With team driving no longer permissible, rail transport looked more inviting, despite the fact that I could get the freight there in 12 less hours. I started to lose my customers because of this. Men such as Lawrence Hammond, Ted Nielsen and others were my customers, and eventually my friends. I couldn't give them a value over the railroad, so they wouldn't pay my price. I didn't blame them. It was business after all. If I couldn't deliver, they had to find a new supplier."

"I'm so sorry." Eddie noticed one other thing about the truck when they began to move. It was far too quiet for a diesel powered vehicle. He knew this wasn't the time to inquire, but knew this was something to file away for later. "Jim destroyed many a great business for his," Eddie stopped. He didn't what word best described what Jim had done to men such as Dan Conway, and now this man.

"Don't be. Might be the best thing that ever happened to me."

"What did you do afterwards?"

"I tried to run for the National Legislature. No one was interested in my platform. I watched old videos of Ronald Reagan and Barry Goldwater and instantly recognized the problem. In the words of President Reagan, 'The more the plans fail, the more the planners plan'. Results be damned. I ran on a platform of turning back powers to the States. Getting the national government out of everything it shouldn't be involved in. I lost in a landslide, despite barnstorming the district. I gave up on my fellow citizens after that. As far as I was concerned, they could all rot in hell, along with the worthless planners they enabled."

"How old are you?"

"34."

"That's far too young to have such a cynical view of people."

"No. It's far too young to have figured out the truth. That is what all of my friends say, as well. But get some rest, Mr. Willers. I think you're going to have a pleasant day tomorrow."

Eddie went back into the sleeper and laid down. He browsed the man's reading material and was shocked at some of the titles. He saw The Law by Bastiat, Economics in One Lesson by Hazlett, and a bunch of other works that fit his own views perfectly. He began to peruse The Law and was shocked that someone could be so right on the problems of collectivism. Eddie stuck his head back in the cab and asked, "Excuse me, but when was this written?"

"1850. They say it is a direct answer to Marx and his Communist Manifesto."

"Where did you get these?"

"A friend."

"Who are you really?"

"Who is John Galt?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Atlantis."