Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Thedesertnightfocusedupwardwithafeelingoflifttowardthestars.Theweightofthedayreceded.Therecameabriefflurryofbreezeacrossherface.
“Thefirstmoonwillbeupsoon,”Paulsaid.“Thepack’sready.I’veplantedthethumper.”
Wecouldbelostforeverinthishellplace,shethought.Andnoonetoknow.
Thenightwindspreadsandrunnelsthatgratedacrossherface,bringingthesmellofcinnamon:ashowerofodorsinthedark.
“Smellthat,”Paulsaid.
“Icansmelliteventhroughthefilter,”shesaid.“Riches.Butwillitbuywater?”Shepointedacrossthebasin.“Therearenoartificiallightsacrossthere.”
“Fremenwouldbehiddeninasietchbehindthoserocks,”hesaid.
Asillofsilverpushedabovethehorizontotheirright:thefirstmoon.Itliftedintoview,thehandpatternplainonitsface.Jessicastudiedthewhite-silverofsandexposedinthelight.
“Iplantedthethumperinthedeepestpartofthecrevasse,”Paulsaid.
“WheneverIlightitscandleit’llgiveusaboutthirtyminutes.”
“Thirtyminutes?”
“Beforeitstartscalling...a...worm.”
“Oh.I’mreadytogo.”
Heslippedawayfromhersideandsheheardhisprogressbackuptheirfissure.
Thenightisatunnel,shethought,aholeintotomorrow...ifwe’retohaveatomorrow.Sheshookherhead.WhymustIbesomorbid?Iwastrainedbetterthanthat!
Paulreturned,tookupthepack,ledthewaydowntothefirstspreadingdunewherehestoppedandlistenedashismothercameupbehindhim.
