Many days passed before we could speak to the Golden One again. But then came the day when the sky turned white, as if the sun had burst and spread its flame in the air, and the fields lay still without breath, and the dust of the road was white in the glow. … But the Golden One stood alone at the hedge, waiting. …
And we said: “We have given you a name in our thoughts, Liberty 5-3000.”
“What is our name?” they asked.
“The Golden One.”
– Ayn Rand, Anthem
In despair I followed him into the Madidinou Fields, in an afternoon in the end of the dry season. … He turned away and went on working. …
I said, “Once I gave you a name in my heart. Do you want to know what it was?”
He said nothing, did not look at me, and went on working.
I left him there with his cutting knife and basket and walked away between the long-armed, contorted vines. Their large leaves were rust-colored in the dusty light. The wind blew dry and hard.
– Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home