Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Herealizedthathewassemi-delirious,thatheshoulddighimselfintothesand,findtherelativelycoolunderlayerandcoverhimselfwithit.Buthecouldstillsmelltherank,semisweetesthersofapre-spicepocketsomewhereunderneaththissand.HeknewtheperilwithinthisfactmorecertainlythananyotherFremen.Ifhecouldsmellthepre-spicemass,thatmeantthegassesdeepunderthesandwerenearingexplosivepressure.Hehadtogetawayfromhere.
Hishandsmadeweakscrabblingmotionsalongtheduneface.
Athoughtspreadacrosshismind—clear,distinct:Therealwealthofaplanetisinitslandscape,howwetakepartinthatbasicsourceofcivilization—agriculture.
Andhethoughthowstrangeitwasthatthemind,longfixedonasingletrack,couldnotgetoffthattrack.TheHarkonnentroopershadlefthimherewithoutwaterorstillsuit,thinkingawormwouldgethimifthedesertdidn’t.
Theyhadthoughtitamusingtoleavehimalivetodiebyinchesattheimpersonalhandsofhisplanet.
TheHarkonnensalwaysdidfinditdifficulttokillFremen,hethought.Wedon’tdieeasily.Ishouldbedeadnow...Iwillbedeadsoon...butIcan’tstopbeinganecologist.
“Thehighestfunctionofecologyisunderstandingconsequences.”
Thevoiceshockedhimbecauseherecognizeditandknewtheownerofitwasdead.Itwasthevoiceofhisfatherwhohadbeenplanetologistherebeforehim—hisfatherlongdead,killedinthecave-inatPlasterBasin.
“Gotyourselfintoquiteafixhere,Son,”hisfathersaid.
