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Book Three: The Prophet
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Paulglancedacrosstheshallowbowl,studyinghismeninthefilteredlightadmittedbythecamouflagecover.Hefelttimecreepinglikeaninsectworkingitswayacrossanexposedrock.
“It’lltakeourSardaukaralittletimeafootbeforetheycansignalatroopcarrier,”Paulsaid.“Theyarebeingwatched?”
“Theyarebeingwatched,”Stilgarsaid.
BesidePaul,GurneyHalleckclearedhisthroat.“Hadn’twebestbegettingtoaplaceofsafety?”
“Thereisnosuchplace,”Paulsaid.“Istheweatherreportstillfavorable?”
“Agreatgrandmotherofastormcoming,”Stilgarsaid.“Canyounotfeelit,Muad’Dib?”
“Theairdoesfeelchancy,”Paulagreed.“ButIlikethecertaintyofpolingtheweather.”
“Thestorm’llbehereinthehour,”Stilgarsaid.HenoddedtowardthegapthatlookedoutontheEmperor’shutmentandtheHarkonnenfrigates.“Theyknowitthere,too.Nota’thopterinthesky.Everythingpulledinandtieddown.
They’vehadareportontheweatherfromtheirfriendsinspace.”
“Anymoreprobingsorties?”Paulasked.
“Nothingsincethelandinglastnight,”Stilgarsaid.“Theyknowwe’rehere.Ithinknowtheywaittochoosetheirowntime.”
“Wechoosethetime,”Paulsaid.
Gurneyglancedupward,growled:“Iftheyletus.”
“Thatfleet’llstayinspace,”Paulsaid.
Gurneyshookhishead.
“Theyhavenochoice,”Paulsaid.“Wecandestroythespice.TheGuilddaresnotriskthat.”
“Desperatepeoplearethemostdangerous,”Gurneysaid.
“Arewenotdesperate?”Stilgarasked.
Gurneyscowledathim.
