-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 503/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
We
’
d
better
find
a
place
to
pitch
the
tent
,
”
he
said
.
“
Tomorrow
we
can
try
to
find
the
Fremen
who
—
”
“
Most
intruders
here
regret
finding
the
Fremen
!
”
It
was
a
heavy
masculine
voice
chopping
across
his
words
,
shattering
the
moment
.
The
voice
came
from
above
them
and
to
their
right
.
“
Please
do
not
run
,
intruders
,
”
the
voice
said
as
Paul
made
to
withdraw
into
the
defile
.
“
If
you
run
you
’
ll
only
waste
your
body
’
s
water
.
”
They
want
us
for
the
water
of
our
flesh
!
Jessica
thought
.
Her
muscles
overrode
all
fatigue
,
flowed
into
maximum
readiness
without
external
betrayal
.
She
pinpointed
the
location
of
the
voice
,
thinking
:
Such
stealth
!
I
didn
’
t
hear
him
.
And
she
realized
that
the
owner
of
that
voice
had
permitted
himself
only
the
small
sounds
,
the
natural
sounds
of
the
desert
.
Another
voice
called
from
the
basin
’
s
rim
to
their
left
.
“
Make
it
quick
,
Stil
.
Get
their
water
and
let
’
s
be
on
our
way
.
We
’
ve
little
enough
time
before
dawn
.
”
Paul
,
less
conditioned
to
emergency
response
than
his
mother
,
felt
chagrin
that
he
had
stiffened
and
tried
to
withdraw
,
that
he
had
clouded
his
abilities
by
a
momentary
panic
.
He
forced
himself
now
to
obey
her
teachings
:
relax
,
than
fall
into
the
semblance
of
relaxation
,
then
into
the
arrested
whipsnap
of
muscles
that
can
slash
in
any
direction
.
Still
,
he
felt
the
edge
of
fear
within
him
and
knew
its
source
.
This
was
blind
time
,
no
future
he
had
seen
.
.
.
and
they
were
caught
between
wild
Fremen
whose
only
interest
was
the
water
carried
in
the
flesh
of
two
unshielded
bodies
.
