-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 493/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
And
still
behind
them
,
that
whipping
,
frenzied
tearing
of
rocks
dominated
the
night
.
They
moved
on
and
on
and
on
.
.
.
.
Muscles
reached
a
stage
of
mechanical
aching
that
seemed
to
stretch
out
indefinitely
,
but
Paul
saw
that
the
beckoning
escarpment
ahead
of
them
had
climbed
higher
.
Jessica
moved
in
a
void
of
concentration
,
aware
that
the
pressure
of
her
will
alone
kept
her
walking
.
Dryness
ached
in
her
mouth
,
but
the
sounds
behind
drove
away
all
hope
of
stopping
for
a
sip
from
her
stillsuit
’
s
catchpockets
.
“
Lump
.
.
.
lump
.
.
.
.
”
Renewed
frenzy
erupted
from
the
distant
cliff
,
drowning
out
the
thumper
.
Silence
!
“
Faster
,
”
Paul
whispered
.
She
nodded
,
knowing
he
did
not
see
the
gesture
,
but
needing
the
action
to
tell
herself
that
it
was
necessary
to
demand
even
more
from
muscles
that
already
were
being
taxed
to
their
limits
—
the
unnatural
movement
.
.
.
.
The
rock
face
of
safety
ahead
of
them
climbed
into
the
stars
,
and
Paul
saw
a
plane
of
flat
sand
stretching
out
at
the
base
.
He
stepped
onto
it
,
stumbled
in
his
fatigue
,
righted
himself
with
an
involuntary
out
-
thrusting
of
a
foot
.
Resonant
booming
shook
the
sand
around
them
.
