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- Фрэнк Герберт
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Kynes
returned
to
the
working
frequency
and
a
voice
blasted
from
the
speaker
:
“
.
.
.
almost
a
full
load
of
spice
!
We
have
almost
a
full
load
!
We
can
’
t
leave
that
for
a
damned
worm
!
Over
.
”
“
Damn
the
spice
!
”
the
Duke
barked
.
He
grabbed
back
the
microphone
,
said
:
“
We
can
always
get
more
spice
.
There
are
seats
in
our
ships
for
all
but
three
of
you
.
Draw
straws
or
decide
any
way
you
like
who
’
s
to
go
.
But
you
’
re
going
,
and
that
’
s
an
order
!
”
He
slammed
the
microphone
back
into
Kynes
’
hands
,
muttered
:
“
Sorry
,
”
as
Kynes
shook
an
injured
finger
.
“
How
much
time
?
”
Paul
asked
.
“
Nine
minutes
,
”
Kynes
said
.
The
Duke
said
:
“
This
ship
has
more
power
than
the
others
.
If
we
took
off
under
jet
with
three
-
quarter
wings
,
we
could
crowd
in
an
additional
man
.
”
“
That
sand
’
s
soft
,
”
Kynes
said
.
“
With
four
extra
men
aboard
on
a
jet
takeoff
,
we
could
snap
the
wings
,
Sire
,
”
