Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Inthismomenthe’dgivehislifeforPaul,shethought.HowdotheAtreidesaccomplishthisthingsoquickly,soeasily?
“Iknowyoumeanthis,”Kynessaid.“YettheHarkon—”
ThedoorbehindPaulslammedopen.Hewhirledtoseereelingviolence—shouting,theclashofsteel,wax-imagefacesgrimacinginthepassage.
Withhismotherbesidehim,Paulleapedforthedoor,seeingIdahoblockingthepassage,hisblood-pittedeyestherevisiblethroughashieldblur,clawhandsbeyondhim,arcsofsteelchoppingfutilelyattheshield.Therewastheorangefire-mouthofastunnerrepelledbytheshield.Idaho’sbladeswerethroughitall,flick-flicking,reddrippingfromthem.
ThenKyneswasbesidePaulandtheythrewtheirweightagainstthedoor.
PaulhadonelastglimpseofIdahostandingagainstaswarmofHarkonnenuniforms—hisjerking,controlledstaggers,theblackgoathairwitharedblossomofdeathinit.ThenthedoorwasclosedandtherecameasnickasKynesthrewthebolts.
“Iappearto’vedecided,”Kynessaid.
“Someonedetectedyourmachinerybeforeitwasshutdown,”Paulsaid.Hepulledhismotherawayfromthedoor,metthedespairinhereyes.
“Ishould’vesuspectedtroublewhenthecoffeefailedtoarrive,”Kynessaid.
“You’veaboltholeoutofhere,”Paulsaid.“Shallweuseit?”
Kynestookadeepbreath,said:“Thisdoorshouldholdforatleasttwentyminutesagainstallbutalasgun.”
“They’llnotusealasgunforfearwe’veshieldsonthisside,”Paulsaid.
“ThosewereSardaukarinHarkonnenuniform,”Jessicawhispered.
