Дюна
Book Three: The Prophet
Andshewonderedwhatothersocietywouldhavesuchanaturalregardforherprivacyandcomfortthatthegiverwouldintrudeonlyenoughtodepositthegiftandnotinflictherwiththedonor?Respectandlovehadsentthegift—withonlyaslighttingeoffear.
Anotherelementoftheincidentforceditselfintoherawareness:shehadthoughtofcoffeeandithadappeared.Therewasnothingoftelepathyhere,sheknew.Itwasthetau,theonenessofthesietchcommunity,acompensationfromthesubtlepoisonofthespicediettheyshared.Thegreatmassofthepeoplecouldneverhopetoattaintheenlightenmentthespiceseedbroughttoher;theyhadnotbeentrainedandpreparedforit.Theirmindsrejectedwhattheycouldnotunderstandorencompass.Stilltheyfeltandreactedsometimeslikeasingleorganism.
Andthethoughtofcoincidenceneverenteredtheirminds.
HasPaulpassedhistestonthesand?Jessicaaskedherself.He’scapable,butaccidentcanstrikedowneventhemostcapable.
Thewaiting.
It’sthedreariness,shethought.Youcanwaitjustsolong.Thenthedrearinessofthewaitingovercomesyou.
Therewasallmannerofwaitingintheirlives.
Morethantwoyearswe’vebeenhere,shethought,andtwicethatnumberatleasttogobeforewecanevenhopetothinkoftryingtowrestArrakisfromtheHarkonnengovernor,theMudirNahya,theBeastRabban.
“ReverendMother?”
ThevoicefromoutsidethehangingsatherdoorwasthatofHarah,theotherwomaninPaul’smenage.
“Yes,Harah.”
ThehangingspartedandHarahseemedtoglidethroughthem.
