Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Heclearedthesandawaytoherwaist,drapedherarmsoverhisshouldersandpulleddownslope,slowlyatfirst,thendraggingherasfastashecould,feelingthesandgivewayabove.Fasterandfasterhepulledher,gaspingwiththeeffort,fightingtokeephisbalance.Hewasoutonthehard-packedfloorofthefissurethen,swinginghertohisshoulderandbreakingintoastaggeringrunastheentiresandslopecamedownwithaloudhissthatechoedandwasmagnifiedwithintherockwalls.
Hestoppedattheendofthefissurewhereitlookedoutonthedesert’smarchingdunessomethirtymetersbelow.Gently,heloweredhertothesand,utteredthewordtobringheroutofthecatalepsis.
Sheawakenedslowly,takingdeeperanddeeperbreaths.
“Iknewyou’dfindme,”shewhispered.
Helookedbackupthefissure.“ItmighthavebeenkinderifIhadn’t.”
“Paul!”
“Ilostthepack,”hesaid.“It’sburiedunderahundredtonsofsand...atleast.”
“Everything?”
“Thesparewater,thestilltent—everythingthatcounts.”Hetouchedapocket.“Istillhavetheparacompass.”Hefumbledatthewaistsash.“Knifeandbinoculars.Wecangetagoodlookaroundtheplacewherewe’lldie.”
Inthatinstant,thesunliftedabovethehorizonsomewheretotheleftbeyondtheendofthefissure.Colorsblinkedinthesandoutontheopendesert.Achorusofbirdsheldforththeirsongsfromhiddenplacesamongtherocks.
ButJessicahadeyesonlyforthedespairinPaul’sface.
