-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 547/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
Bi
-
la
kaifa
,
”
Chani
whispered
.
He
looked
at
her
,
seeing
the
awe
with
which
the
Fremen
appeared
to
accept
his
mother
’
s
words
.
Only
the
man
called
Jamis
seemed
to
stand
aloof
from
the
ceremony
,
holding
himself
apart
with
arms
folded
across
his
breast
.
“
Duy
yakha
hin
mange
,
”
Chani
whispered
.
“
Duy
punra
hin
mange
.
I
have
two
eyes
.
I
have
two
feet
.
”
And
she
stared
at
Paul
with
a
look
of
wonder
.
Paul
took
a
deep
breath
,
trying
to
still
the
tempest
within
him
.
His
mother
’
s
words
had
locked
onto
the
working
of
the
spice
essence
,
and
he
had
felt
her
voice
rise
and
fall
within
him
like
the
shadows
of
an
open
fire
.
Through
it
all
,
he
had
sensed
the
edge
of
cynicism
in
her
—
he
knew
her
so
well
!
—
but
nothing
could
stop
this
thing
that
had
begun
with
a
morsel
of
food
.
Terrible
purpose
!
He
sensed
it
,
the
race
consciousness
that
he
could
not
escape
.
There
was
the
sharpened
clarity
,
the
inflow
of
data
,
the
cold
precision
of
his
awareness
.
He
sank
to
the
floor
,
sitting
with
his
back
against
rock
,
giving
himself
up
to
it
.
Awareness
flowed
into
that
timeless
stratum
where
he
could
view
time
,
sensing
the
available
paths
,
the
winds
of
the
future
.
.
.
the
winds
of
the
past
:
the
one
-
eyed
vision
of
the
past
,
the
one
-
eyed
vision
of
the
present
and
the
one
-
eyed
vision
of
the
future
—
all
combined
in
a
trinocular
vision
that
permitted
him
to
see
time
-
become
-
space
.
There
was
danger
,
he
felt
,
of
overrunning
himself
,
and
he
had
to
hold
onto
his
awareness
of
the
present
,
sensing
the
blurred
deflection
of
experience
,
the
flowing
moment
,
the
continual
solidification
of
that
-
which
-
is
into
the
perpetual
-
was
.
