Дюна
Book Three: The Prophet
ButChanihadproducedanAtreidesson,andJessicahadfoundherselfunabletorejectthechildwiththemother.
Jessicahadstirredfinallyunderhisstare,said:“Youthinkmeanunnaturalmother.”
“Ofcoursenot.”
“IseethewayyouwatchmewhenI’mwithyoursister.Youdon’tunderstandaboutyoursister.”
“IknowwhyAliaisdifferent,”hesaid.“Shewasunborn,partofyou,whenyouchangedtheWaterofLife.She—”
“Youknownothingofit!”
AndPaul,suddenlyunabletoexpresstheknowledgegainedoutofitstime,saidonly:“Idon’tthinkyouunnatural.”
Shesawhisdistress,said:“Thereisathing,Son.”
“Yes?”
“IdoloveyourChani.Iaccepther.”
Thiswasreal,Paultoldhimself.Thiswasn’ttheimperfectvisiontobechangedbythetwistingsoutoftime’sownbirth.
Thereassurancegavehimanewholdonhisworld.Bitsofsolidrealitybegantodipthroughthedreamstateintohisawareness.Heknewsuddenlythathewasinahiereg,adesertcamp.Chanihadplantedtheirstilltentonflour-sandforitssoftness.ThatcouldonlymeanChaniwasnearby—Chani,hissoul,Chanihissihaya,sweetasthedesertspring,Chaniupfromthepalmariesofthedeepsouth.
Now,herememberedhersingingasandchantytohiminthetimeforsleep.
“Omysoul,
HavenotasteforParadisethisnight,
AndIswearbyShai-hulud
Youwillgothere,
Obedienttomylove.”
Andshehadsungthewalkingsongloverssharedonthesand,itsrhythmlikethedragofthedunesagainstthefeet:
“Tellmeofthineeyes
AndIwilltelltheeofthyheart.
