Дюна
Book One: Dune
I’mamonster!hethought.Afreak!
“No,”hesaid.Then:“No.No!NO!”
Hefoundthathewaspoundingthetentfloorwithhisfists.(Theimplacablepartofhimrecordedthisasaninterestingemotionaldatumandfeditintocomputation.)
“Paul!”
Hismotherwasbesidehim,holdinghishands,herfaceagrayblobpeeringathim.“Paul,what’swrong?”
“You!”hesaid.
“I’mhere,Paul,”shesaid.“It’sallright.”
“Whathaveyoudonetome?”hedemanded.
Inaburstofclarity,shesensedsomeoftherootsinthequestion,said:“Igavebirthtoyou.”
Itwas,frominstinctasmuchasherownsubtleknowledge,thepreciselycorrectanswertocalmhim.Hefeltherhandsholdinghim,focusedonthedimoutlineofherface.(Certaingenetracesinherfacialstructurewerenotedinthenewwaybyhisonflowingmind,thecluesaddedtootherdata,andafinal-summationanswerputforward.)
“Letgoofme,”hesaid.
Sheheardtheironinhisvoice,obeyed.“Doyouwanttotellmewhat’swrong,Paul?”
“Didyouknowwhatyouweredoingwhenyoutrainedme?”heasked.
There’snomorechildhoodinhisvoice,shethought.Andshesaid:“Ihopedthethinganyparenthopes—thatyou’dbe...superior,different.”
“Different?”
Sheheardthebitternessinhistone,said:“Paul,I—”
“Youdidn’twantason!”hesaid.“YouwantedaKwisatzHaderach!YouwantedamaleBeneGesserit!”
Sherecoiledfromhisbitterness.“ButPaul....
