Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
“Wecantalktherewithoutfearofbeingoverheard.”Heledthewaywithhiswaddlinggaitintothesound-deadeningfield,feelingthenoisesofthekeepbecomedullanddistant.
TheCountmovedupbesidetheBaron,andtheyturned,facingthewallsotheirlipscouldnotberead.
“We’renotsatisfiedwiththewayyouorderedtheSardaukaroffArrakis,”theCountsaid.
Straighttalk!theBaronthought.
“TheSardaukarcouldnotstaylongerwithoutriskingthatotherswouldfindouthowtheEmperorhelpedme,”theBaronsaid.
“ButyournephewRabbandoesnotappeartobepressingstronglyenoughtowardasolutionoftheFremenproblem.”
“WhatdoestheEmperorwish?”theBaronasked.“TherecannotbemorethanahandfulofFremenleftonArrakis.Thesoutherndesertisuninhabitable.
Thenortherndesertissweptregularlybyourpatrols.”
“Whosaysthesoutherndesertisuninhabitable?”
“Yourownplanetologistsaidit,mydearCount.”
“ButDoctorKynesisdead.”
“Ah,yes...unfortunate,that.”
“We’vewordfromanoverflightacrossthesouthernreaches,”theCountsaid.“There’sevidenceofplantlife.”
“HastheGuildthenagreedtoawatchfromspace?”
“Youknowbetterthanthat,Baron.TheEmperorcannotlegallypostawatchonArrakis.”
“AndIcannotaffordit,”theBaronsaid.“Whomadethisoverflight?”
“A...smuggler.”
“Someonehasliedtoyou,Count,”theBaronsaid.“SmugglerscannotnavigatethesouthernreachesanybetterthancanRabban’smen.Storms,sand-static,andallthat,youknow.
