Дюна

           waitingforsomething...formetogomeetsomepeople.Andshe’sfrightenedbuttryingtohideitfromme,andI’mexcited.Andshesays:‘Tellmeaboutthewatersofyourhomeworld,Usul.’”Paulopenedhiseyes.“Isn’tthatstrange?Myhomeworld’sCaladan.I’veneverevenheardofaplanetcalledUsul.”

           “Istheremoretothisdream?”Jessicaprompted.

           “Yes.ButmaybeshewascallingmeUsul,”Paulsaid.“Ijustthoughtofthat.”Again,heclosedhiseyes.“Sheasksmetotellheraboutthewaters.AndI

           takeherhand.AndIsayI’lltellherapoem.AndItellherthepoem,butIhavetoexplainsomeofthewords—likebeachandsurfandseaweedandseagulls.”

           “Whatpoem?”theReverendMotherasked.

           Paulopenedhiseyes.“It’sjustoneofGurneyHalleck’stonepoemsforsadtimes.”

           BehindPaul,Jessicabegantorecite:

           “Iremembersaltsmokefromabeachfire

           Andshadowsunderthepines—

           Solid,clean...fixed—

           Seagullsperchedatthetipofland,

           Whiteupongreen...

           Andawindcomesthroughthepines

           Toswaytheshadows;

           Theseagullsspreadtheirwings,

           Lift

           Andfilltheskywithscreeches.

           AndIhearthewind

           Blowingacrossourbeach,

           Andthesurf,

           AndIseethatourfire

           Hasscorchedtheseaweed.”

           “That’stheone,”Paulsaid.

           TheoldwomanstaredatPaul,then:“Youngman,asaProctoroftheBeneGesserit,IseektheKwisatzHaderach,themalewhotrulycanbecomeoneofus.

           Yourmotherseesthispossibilityinyou,butsheseeswiththeeyesofamother.

           PossibilityIsee,too,butnomore.