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Book Three: The Prophet
“Youhaven’tlivedwiththeFremendream,”Paulcautioned.“Stilisthinkingofallthewaterwe’vespentonbribes,theyearsofwaitingwe’veaddedbeforeArrakiscanbloom.He’snot—”
“Arrrgh,”Gurneyscowled.
“Why’shesogloomy?”Stilgarasked.
“He’salwaysgloomybeforeabattle,”Paulsaid.“It’stheonlyformofgoodhumorGurneyallowshimself.”
Aslow,wolfishgrinspreadacrossGurney’sface,theteethshowingwhiteabovethechipcutofhisstillsuit.“ItgloomsmemuchtothinkonallthepoorHarkonnensoulswe’lldispatchunshriven,”hesaid.
Stilgarchuckled.“HetalkslikeaFedaykin.”
“Gurneywasbornadeathcommando,”Paulsaid.Andhethought:Yes,letthemoccupytheirmindswithsmalltalkbeforewetestourselvesagainstthatforceontheplain.HelookedtothegapintherockwallandbacktoGurney,foundthatthetroubadour-warriorhadresumedabroodingscowl.
“Worrysapsthestrength,”Paulmurmured.“Youtoldmethatonce,Gurney.”
“MyDuke,”Gurneysaid,“mychiefworryistheatomics.IfyouusethemtoblastaholeintheShieldWall....”
“Thosepeopleuptherewon’tuseatomicsagainstus,”Paulsaid.“Theydon’tdare...andforthesamereasonthattheycannotriskourdestroyingthesourceofthespice.”
“Buttheinjunctionagainst—”
“Theinjunction!”Paulbarked.“It’sfear,nottheinjunctionthatkeepstheHousesfromhurlingatomicsagainsteachother.ThelanguageoftheGreatConventionisclearenough:‘Useofatomicsagainsthumansshallbecauseforplanetaryobliteration.
