Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Paulslidafootforward,shiftedhisweight,andprobedwiththeotherfoot,metanobstruction.Heliftedhisfoot,foundastep,pulledhimselfupontoit.Hereachedback,felthismother’sarm,tuggedatherrobeforhertofollow.
Anotherstep.
“Itgoesonuptothetop,Ithink,”hewhispered.
Shallowandevensteps,Jessicathought.Man-carvedbeyondadoubt.
ShefollowedtheshadowymovementofPaul’sprogress,feelingoutthesteps.Rockwallsnarroweduntilhershouldersalmostbrushedthem.Thestepsendedinaslitteddefileabouttwentymeterslong,itsfloorlevel,andthisopenedontoashallow,moonlitbasin.
Paulsteppedoutintotherimofthebasin,whispered:“Whatabeautifulplace.”
Jessicacouldonlystareinsilentagreementfromherpositionastepbehindhim.
Inspiteofweariness,theirritationofrecathsandnoseplugsandtheconfinementofthestillsuit,inspiteoffearandtheachingdesireforrest,thisbasin’sbeautyfilledhersenses,forcinghertostopandadmireit.
“Likeafairyland,”Paulwhispered.
Jessicanodded.
Spreadingawayinfrontofherstretcheddesertgrowth—bushes,cacti,tinyclumpsofleaves—alltremblinginthemoonlight.Theringwallsweredarktoherleft,moonfrostedonherright.
“ThismustbeaFremenplace,”Paulsaid.
“Therewouldhavetobepeopleforthismanyplantstosurvive,”sheagreed.
Sheuncappedthetubetoherstillsuit’scatchpockets,sippedatit.Warm,faintlyacridwetnessslippeddownherthroat.Shemarkedhowitrefreshedher.Thetube’scapgratedagainstflakesofsandasshereplacedit.
