-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 465/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
There
was
no
rhythm
to
it
that
might
tell
a
marauding
worm
something
not
of
the
desert
moved
here
.
Paul
reached
the
spice
patch
,
shoveled
a
mound
of
it
into
a
fold
of
his
robe
,
returned
to
the
fissure
.
He
spilled
the
spice
onto
the
sand
in
front
of
Jessica
,
squatted
and
began
dismantling
the
paracompass
,
using
the
point
of
his
knife
.
The
compass
face
came
off
.
He
removed
his
sash
,
spread
the
compass
parts
on
it
,
lifted
out
the
power
pack
.
The
dial
mechanism
came
out
next
,
leaving
an
empty
dished
compartment
in
the
instrument
.
“
You
’
ll
need
water
,
”
Jessica
said
.
Paul
took
the
catchtube
from
his
neck
,
sucked
up
a
mouthful
,
expelled
it
into
the
dished
compartment
.
If
this
fails
,
that
’
s
water
wasted
,
Jessica
thought
.
But
it
won
’
t
matter
then
,
anyway
.
With
his
knife
,
Paul
cut
open
the
power
pack
,
spilled
its
crystals
into
the
water
.
They
foamed
slightly
,
subsided
.
Jessica
’
s
eyes
caught
motion
above
them
.
She
looked
up
to
see
a
line
of
hawks
along
the
rim
of
the
fissure
.
They
perched
there
staring
down
at
the
open
water
.
Great
Mother
!
she
thought
.
They
can
sense
water
even
at
that
distance
!