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She
stared
up
at
them
,
sensing
Paul
’
s
movements
as
he
came
up
beside
her
.
The
desert
night
focused
upward
with
a
feeling
of
lift
toward
the
stars
.
The
weight
of
the
day
receded
.
There
came
a
brief
flurry
of
breeze
across
her
face
.
“
The
first
moon
will
be
up
soon
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
The
pack
’
s
ready
.
I
’
ve
planted
the
thumper
.
”
We
could
be
lost
forever
in
this
hellplace
,
she
thought
.
And
no
one
to
know
.
The
night
wind
spread
sand
runnels
that
grated
across
her
face
,
bringing
the
smell
of
cinnamon
:
a
shower
of
odors
in
the
dark
.
“
Smell
that
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
I
can
smell
it
even
through
the
filter
,
”
she
said
.
“
Riches
.
But
will
it
buy
water
?
”
She
pointed
across
the
basin
.
“
There
are
no
artificial
lights
across
there
.
”
“
Fremen
would
be
hidden
in
a
sietch
behind
those
rocks
,
”
he
said
.
A
sill
of
silver
pushed
above
the
horizon
to
their
right
:
the
first
moon
.
It
lifted
into
view
,
the
hand
pattern
plain
on
its
face
.
Jessica
studied
the
white
-
silver
of
sand
exposed
in
the
light
.
“
I
planted
the
thumper
in
the
deepest
part
of
the
crevasse
,
”
Paul
said
.
