Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Thetent’scoveredbysand.I’lldigusoutsoon.”
“NosignofDuncanyet?”
“None.”
Paulrubbedabsentlyattheducalsignetonhisthumb,andasuddenrageagainsttheverysubstanceofthisplanetwhichhadhelpedkillhisfathersethimtrembling.
“Iheardthestormbegin,”Jessicasaid.
Theundemandingemptinessofherwordshelpedrestoresomeofhiscalm.
Hismindfocusedonthestormashehadseenitbeginthroughthetransparentendoftheirstilltent—colddribblesofsandcrossingthebasin,thenrunnelsandtailsfurrowingthesky.Hehadlookeduptoarockspire,seenitchangeshapeundertheblast,becomingalow,Cheddar-coloredwedge.Sandfunneledintotheirbasinhadshadowedtheskywithdullcurry,thenblottedoutalllightasthetentwascovered.
Tentbowshadcreakedonceastheyacceptedthepressure,then—silencebrokenonlybythedimbellowswheezingoftheirsandsnorkelpumpingairfromthesurface.
“Trythereceiveragain,”Jessicasaid.
“Nouse,”hesaid.
Hefoundhisstillsuit’swatertubeinitsclipathisneck,drewawarmswallowintohismouth,andhethoughtthatherehetrulybegananArrakeenexistence—livingonreclaimedmoisturefromhisownbreathandbody.Itwasflatandtastelesswater,butitsoothedhisthroat.
JessicaheardPauldrinking,felttheslicknessofherownstillsuitclingingtoherbody,butsherefusedtoacceptherthirst.
