Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
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ThemanwhostoodoutsidethedoorfieldoftheBaron’sbedchamberwaslowbuilt,grossoffaceandbody,withtheHarkonnenpaternalline’snarrow-seteyesandbulgeofshoulders.Therewasyetsomerigidityinhisfat,butitwasobvioustotheeyethathe’dcomeonedaytotheportablesuspensorsforcarryinghisexcessweight.
Amuscle-mindedtank-brain,theBaronthought.NoMentat,mynephew...notaPiterdeVries,butperhapssomethingmorepreciselydevisedforthetaskathand.IfIgivehimfreedomtodoit,he’llgrindovereverythinginhispath.
Oh,howhe’llbehatedhereonArrakis!
“MydearRabban,”theBaronsaid.Hereleasedthedoorfield,butpointedlykepthisbodyshieldatfullstrength,knowingthattheshimmerofitwouldbevisibleabovethebedsideglowglobe.
“Yousummonedme,”Rabbansaid.Hesteppedintotheroom,flickedaglancepasttheairdisturbanceofthebodyshield,searchedforasuspensorchair,foundnone.
“StandcloserwhereIcanseeyoueasily,”theBaronsaid.
Rabbanadvancedanotherstep,thinkingthatthedamnableoldmanhaddeliberatelyremovedallchairs,forcingavisitortostand.
“TheAtreidesaredead,”theBaronsaid.“Thelastofthem.That’swhyIsummonedyouheretoArrakis.Thisplanetisagainyours.”
Rabbanblinked.“ButIthoughtyouweregoingtoadvancePiterdeVriestothe—”
“Piter,too,isdead.”
“Piter?”
“Piter.”
TheBaronreactivatedthedoorfield,blankeditagainstallenergypenetration.
“Youfinallytiredofhim,eh?”Rabbanasked.
