-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 466/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Paul
had
the
cover
back
on
the
paracompass
,
leaving
off
the
reset
button
which
gave
a
small
hole
into
the
liquid
.
Taking
the
reworked
instrument
in
one
hand
,
a
handful
of
spice
in
the
other
,
Paul
went
back
up
the
fissure
,
studying
the
lay
of
the
slope
.
His
robe
billowed
gently
without
the
sash
to
hold
it
.
He
waded
part
way
up
the
slope
,
kicking
off
the
sand
rivulets
,
spurts
of
dust
.
Presently
,
he
stopped
,
pressed
a
pinch
of
the
spice
into
the
paracompass
,
shook
the
instrument
case
.
Green
foam
boiled
out
of
the
hole
where
the
reset
button
had
been
.
Paul
aimed
it
at
the
slope
,
spread
a
low
dike
there
,
began
kicking
away
the
sand
beneath
it
,
immobilizing
the
opened
face
with
more
foam
.
Jessica
moved
to
a
position
below
him
,
called
out
:
“
May
I
help
?
”
“
Come
up
and
dig
,
”
he
said
.
“
We
’
ve
about
three
meters
to
go
.
It
’
s
going
to
be
a
near
thing
.
”
As
he
spoke
,
the
foam
stopped
billowing
from
the
instrument
.
“
Quickly
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
No
telling
how
long
this
foam
will
hold
the
sand
.
”
Jessica
scrambled
up
beside
Paul
as
he
sifted
another
pinch
of
spice
into
the
hole
,
shook
the
paracompass
case
.
Again
,
foam
boiled
from
it
.
As
Paul
directed
the
foam
barrier
,
Jessica
dug
with
her
hands
,
hurling
the
sand
down
the
slope
.
“
How
deep
?
”
she
panted
.
“
About
three
meters
,
”
he
said
.
“
And
I
can
only
approximate
the
position
.
We
may
have
to
widen
this
hole
.
”
He
moved
a
step
aside
,
slipping
in
loose
sand
.
“
Slant
your
digging
backward
.
Don
’
t
go
straight
down
.
”