Sixteen-year-old Dagny Taggart threw her school books on the soft grass of the Taggart estate and followed them falling slowly but delightfully face-up placing her hands comfortably behind her head. Looking straight up at the crystal blue sky Dagny had no desire to be anywhere else but right here and right now. It brought to her a feeling of ease with herself and the world, her world. It was Friday and she enjoyed these few minutes alone before her father would call her in for dinner. On this particular day, to her joy, the heavens bloomed full of white puffy clouds.
Her clouds always spoke to Dagny in a language that she could not quite understand yet nonetheless seemed to speak of something undefinable, something important, something metaphysical: not in the religious sense but more like an indisputable finality of life like the raw sense of joy in the here and now. Instinctively Dagny knew these ideas she fostered within herself would never fade from her that they were hers alone not share with no one else.
Dagny would often see shapes in the clouds as most people said they did but for her, they were not mere fantasy sightings. What made all the difference was that instead of seeing unicorns, dolls, or even castles, she saw shapes that resembled real things like boats, cars, and of course even a train or two, things that belonged to this world. Even at this tender and impressionable age she thought of no other world ever existed.
For Dagny, the weekends would be full of work beside her father in his executive CEO office of Taggart Transcontinial doing the smallest of menial tasks but getting a lifetime's worth of knowledge about the railroad business. She enjoyed this work learning and watching her father, how he regulated his time, spoke to his personnel, made his decisions, and the like but today right now the time was hers.
"Hey Slug are you sleeping?" came the voice out of nowhere. "Slug wake up!" Slowly Dagny's emerald green eyes blinked a few times before she became fully conscious. The sent of the man was like a spicy masculine nobleman. Dagny knew at once it was Frisco. Laying down beside her his right hand supporting his head teased in a tightly harnessed control. Immediately she wrapped her arms around his face closing her eyes pulling him in closer expecting something further. Frisco playfully pulled Dagny's arms apart. "Hey, now what's that all about?". he asked in a deep aristocratic tone.
Frisco was Francisco d'Anconia's heir to the d'Anconia copper fortune. Frisco was well known to the Taggart family and was a frequent visitor to the Taggart estate. When he came, he always came to see Dagny and she knew it. At night they would walk together in the beautiful Taggart gardens speaking mostly of silly things. Sometimes, but rarely they would suddenly stop and look deeply into each other's eyes which promised more in the future.
"I'm just glad to see you," Dagny replied with a wide girlish grin purring like a kitten. It's been weeks since I saw you last." Frisco loved the soft cadence of her voice his face expectant.
"I know but you don't have to try and choke me just because you are glad to see me!". Dagny laughed shyly with the kind of shyness that made you want to wrap your arms, someone, in a protective embrace but Frisco being eight years older than she was resisted the temptation. Dagny was not insulted.
"What are you doing here anyway Frisco?" Dagny's face was slack with surprise.
Frisco's eyelids lowered into two lines of an expression that was hard for Dagny to digest "My father and your father have some business to attend to."
"O that, They are always together trying to accomplish something." Frisco looked at Dagny straight in the eyes sternly as if looking at her for the first time. It was a forgiving look not one of hurt but of a rare sense of vulnerability.
"Dagny, do you know what accomplishment is, real accomplishment? I'll tell you so you will understand it well. Accomplishment," Frisco began, "is something that has never been done before. A task started and finished to the best of one's ability. An activity accomplished by one working rationally towards a single goal like an architect preparing the plans for building a skyscraper or like my father and yours a railroad where many people contribute individually to the final product each man is an expert at what he does and paid rightfully what that expertise is worth. It is something one person can do by themselves or in concert with others by the virtue of study, practice, and application: each giving of himself for the success of the task. It is a thing bound and limited by time with a beginning and end. A goal achieved planned for the short or long term. Accomplishment is ransomed paid by oneself for oneself against the totality of the worth of one's life created not by the sacrifice of one's work to the "common good" but by the genius of one's mind pursuing his or her own interest. It is pride in the ability of oneself working either by one's hands or one's mind. Accomplishment is a sign of happiness in what one is doing or has done for their own sake, to stand back and say "I did it!" Accomplishment is proof of one's moral integrity in knowing what one is doing right and continuing to its finish. It is a value that forbids mindless self-indulgence of any kind. One would not practice Zen Buddhism or take mind-altering drugs while pulling a tooth or mixing a drink or performing a delicate brain operation. Accomplishment is also as meaningful as a work of art providing the artist does not fake reality by isolating and metaphysically skipping the non-essential in any body of work. An example of this would be writing a book with facts, fixing a car engine, or building a diesel locomotive with the proper tools and not with rope, strings, or elastic bands. Accomplishment is the opposite of bondage where one sells one's soul to all comers. Man, any man has the most important point of existence which makes accomplishment possible, to think or not to think, to live for himself alone or to become a public vehicle which to gauge all virtues by the mob. An honest accomplishment can not be faked, shared, borrowed, or made for someone else's treasure. It can be and forever the property of the creator. Accomplishment is self-sufficient, self-motivated, and self-generated for one's specific purpose and that purpose is the freedom to work on one's ideas!"
Dangy stared at Frisco for a second as one looks at a giant of a man already mature with a mark of power, rational power.
Dagny released a slow controlled breath and pushed herself to her feet. "I'll race you to the house," she said and was off her long legs and honey blonde hair churning up the distance in just a few strides.
"Hey Slug. You forgot your books!? Frisco said laughing trying unsuccessfully to hold it in.
"You bring them!" she called out loud laughing too. Frisco understood it was her sign of approval of everything he said..
Frisco did not realize it then but his words had and would remain in Dagny's mind for years to come and most importantly she would remember them when she needed them most.