Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Hetriedtoseeuptheslopeinthedarkness,wasalmostknockedoverbythecascade.Ittrailedawaytosilence.
“Mother?”hesaid.
Therewasnoanswer.
“Mother?”
Hedroppedthepack,hurledhimselfuptheslope,scrambling,digging,throwingsandlikeawildman.“Mother!”hegasped.“Mother,whereareyou?”
Anothercascadeofsandsweptdownonhim,buryinghimtothehips.Hewrenchedhimselfoutofit.
She’sbeencaughtinthesandslide,hethought.Buriedinit.Imustbecalmandworkthisoutcarefully.Shewon’tsmotherimmediately.She’llcomposeherselfinbindususpensiontoreduceheroxygenneeds.SheknowsI’lldigforher.
IntheBeneGesseritwayshehadtaughthim,Paulstilledthesavagebeatingofhisheart,sethismindasablankslateuponwhichthepastfewmomentscouldwritethemselves.Everypartialshiftandtwistoftheslidereplayeditselfinhismenory,movingwithaninteriorstatelinessthatcontrastedwiththefractionalsecondofrealtimerequiredforthetotalrecall.
Presently,Paulmovedslantwiseuptheslope,probingcautiouslyuntilhefoundthewallofthefissure,anoutcurveofrockthere.Hebegantodig,movingthesandwithcarenottodislodgeanotherslide.Apieceoffabriccameunderhis
hands.Hefollowedit,foundanarm.Gently,hetracedthearm,exposedherface.
“Doyouhearme?”hewhispered.
Noanswer.
Hedugfaster,freedhershoulders.Shewaslimpbeneathhishands,buthedetectedaslowheartbeat.
Bindususpension,hetoldhimself.
