Дюна
Book One: Dune
Withoutturninghishead,hetriedtomovehiseyestoseethatterribleneedlepoisedbesidehisneck. Hesensedthathewasbreathingingasps,triedtoslowhisbreathsandcouldn’t.
Pain!
Hisworldemptiedofeverythingexceptthathandimmersedinagony,theancientfaceinchesawaystaringathim.
Hislipsweresodryhehaddifficultyseparatingthem.
Theburning!Theburning!
Hethoughthecouldfeelskincurlingblackonthatagonizedhand,thefleshcrispinganddroppingawayuntilonlycharredbonesremained.
Itstopped!
Asthoughaswitchhadbeenturnedoff,thepainstopped.
Paulfelthisrightarmtrembling,feltsweatbathinghisbody.
“Enough,”theoldwomanmuttered.“Kullwahad!Nowoman-childeverwithstoodthatmuch.Imust’vewantedyoutofail.” Sheleanedback,withdrawingthegomjabbarfromthesideofhisneck. “Takeyourhandfromthebox,younghuman,andlookatit.”
Hefoughtdownanachingshiver,staredatthelightlessvoidwherehishandseemedtoremainofitsownvolition.Memoryofpaininhibitedeverymovement. Reasontoldhimhewouldwithdrawablackenedstumpfromthatbox.
“Doit!”shesnapped.
Hejerkedhishandfromthebox,staredatitastonished.Notamark.Nosignofagonyontheflesh.Heheldupthehand,turnedit,flexedthefingers.
“Painbynerveinduction,”shesaid.“Can’tgoaroundmaimingpotentialhumans. There’rethosewho’dgiveaprettyforthesecretofthisbox,though.”
Sheslippeditintothefoldsofhergown.
“Butthepain—”hesaid.
“Pain,”shesniffed.“Ahumancanoverrideanynerveinthebody.”
