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Paul
realized
then
that
her
breathing
had
been
different
for
some
time
,
that
she
had
lain
silent
in
the
darkness
until
certain
he
was
awake
.
“
Lifting
the
shades
wouldn
’
t
help
,
”
he
said
.
“
There
’
s
been
a
storm
.
The
tent
’
s
covered
by
sand
.
I
’
ll
dig
us
out
soon
.
”
“
No
sign
of
Duncan
yet
?
”
“
None
.
”
Paul
rubbed
absently
at
the
ducal
signet
on
his
thumb
,
and
a
sudden
rage
against
the
very
substance
of
this
planet
which
had
helped
kill
his
father
set
him
trembling
.
“
I
heard
the
storm
begin
,
”
Jessica
said
.
The
undemanding
emptiness
of
her
words
helped
restore
some
of
his
calm
.
His
mind
focused
on
the
storm
as
he
had
seen
it
begin
through
the
transparent
end
of
their
stilltent
—
cold
dribbles
of
sand
crossing
the
basin
,
then
runnels
and
tails
furrowing
the
sky
.
He
had
looked
up
to
a
rock
spire
,
seen
it
change
shape
under
the
blast
,
becoming
a
low
,
Cheddar
-
colored
wedge
.
Sand
funneled
into
their
basin
had
shadowed
the
sky
with
dull
curry
,
then
blotted
out
all
light
as
the
tent
was
covered
.
