In Atlas Shrugged, John Galt invented a radical new engine and (according to folklore) emigrated to Atlantis to keep his invention out of the hands of parasites.
Charles Stross’s novel Neptune’s Brood is about uncovering the true history of the Atlantis colony, which gathered an unusual concentration of talent before suddenly going silent. Some say that Atlantis was working on a FTL drive, which happens to be a motif in a perennial scam. Was Atlantis never more than a Potemkin village, bait for investors? Or, on the other extreme, was it destroyed because the FTL project succeeded?
Once or twice before, I’ve asked Charlie whether he intended an allusion and he said “ha, no, I didn’t notice that,” so I won’t assume that the name “Atlantis” (which is unrelated to the Neptune of the title) is a poke at Rand. It’s funny either way.
Ayn Rand was virtually out of print where I grew up — she’s very much an American cult leader, and almost unheard-of in Great Britain. I never even saw one of her books in a second-hand bookshop until I was in my mid-twenties.
As, on the basis of her ideology, I wouldn’t cross the road to piss on her if she was on fire, I haven’t subsequently felt the need to read her fiction.
Lest you think I’m too harsh on her memory, let me qualify that last remark: if I saw Ayn Rand on fire on the other side of the road, I would cross the road — to sell her my urine as a fire retardent, at a fair market price set by consumer demand. Alternatively I’d call the (government provided, tax-funded) fire service for free on her behalf and let her square accepting aid from the state with her own conscience. Except, my bad, she actually did that, didn’t she?
Likely she never went anywhere without a couple of acolytes to provide the fluid.