Дюна
Book One: Dune
Beneaththem,thebrokengroundbegantodropawayintumbledcreasestowardabarrenrockplainandaknife-edgedshelf.
Beyondtheshelf,fingernailcrescentsofdunesmarchedtowardthehorizonwithhereandthereinthedistanceadullsmudge,adarkerblotchtotellofsomethingnotsand.Rockoutcroppings,perhaps.Intheheat-addledair,Paulcouldn’tbesure.
“Arethereanyplantsdownthere?”Paulasked.
“Some,”Kynessaid.“Thislatitude’slife-zonehasmostlywhatwecall
minorwaterstealers—adaptedtoraidingeachotherformoisture,gobblingupthetrace-dew.Somepartsofthedesertteemwithlife.Butallofithaslearnedhowtosurviveundertheserigors.Ifyougetcaughtdownthere,youimitatethatlifeoryoudie.”
“Youmeanstealwaterfromeachother?”Paulasked.Theideaoutragedhim,andhisvoicebetrayedhisemotion.
“It’sdone,”Kynessaid,“butthatwasn’tpreciselymymeaning.Yousee,myclimatedemandsaspecialattitudetowardwater.Youareawareofwateratalltimes.Youwastenothingthatcontainsmoisture.”
AndtheDukethought:“...myclimate!”
“Comearoundtwodegreesmoresoutherly,myLord,”Kynessaid.“There’sablowcomingupfromthewest.”
TheDukenodded.Hehadseenthebillowingoftandustthere.Hebankedthe‘thopteraround,notingthewaytheescort’swingsreflectedmilkyorangefromthedust-refractedlightastheyturnedtokeeppacewithhim.
“Thisshouldclearthestorm’sedge,”Kynessaid.
“Thatsandmustbedangerousifyouflyintoit,”Paulsaid.
