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- Фрэнк Герберт
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In
a
burst
of
clarity
,
she
sensed
some
of
the
roots
in
the
question
,
said
:
“
I
gave
birth
to
you
.
”
It
was
,
from
instinct
as
much
as
her
own
subtle
knowledge
,
the
precisely
correct
answer
to
calm
him
.
He
felt
her
hands
holding
him
,
focused
on
the
dim
outline
of
her
face
.
(
Certain
gene
traces
in
her
facial
structure
were
noted
in
the
new
way
by
his
onflowing
mind
,
the
clues
added
to
other
data
,
and
a
final
-
summation
answer
put
forward
.
)
“
Let
go
of
me
,
”
he
said
.
She
heard
the
iron
in
his
voice
,
obeyed
.
“
Do
you
want
to
tell
me
what
’
s
wrong
,
Paul
?
”
“
Did
you
know
what
you
were
doing
when
you
trained
me
?
”
he
asked
.
There
’
s
no
more
childhood
in
his
voice
,
she
thought
.
And
she
said
:
“
I
hoped
the
thing
any
parent
hopes
—
that
you
’
d
be
.
.
.
superior
,
different
.
”
“
Different
?
”
She
heard
the
bitterness
in
his
tone
,
said
:
“
Paul
,
I
—
”
“
You
didn
’
t
want
a
son
!
”
he
said
.
“
You
wanted
a
Kwisatz
Haderach
!
You
wanted
a
male
Bene
Gesserit
!
”
She
recoiled
from
his
bitterness
.
“
But
Paul
.
.
.
.
