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- Фрэнк Герберт
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“
I
should
whap
your
backside
for
such
carelessness
,
”
Halleck
said
.
He
lifted
a
naked
kindjal
from
the
table
and
held
it
up
.
“
This
in
the
hand
of
an
enemy
can
let
out
your
life
’
s
blood
!
You
’
re
an
apt
pupil
,
none
better
,
but
I
’
ve
warned
you
that
not
even
in
play
do
you
let
a
man
inside
your
guard
with
death
in
his
hand
.
”
“
I
guess
I
’
m
not
in
the
mood
for
it
today
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
Mood
?
”
Halleck
’
s
voice
betrayed
his
outrage
even
through
the
shield
’
s
filtering
.
“
What
has
mood
to
do
with
it
?
You
fight
when
the
necessity
arises
—
no
matter
the
mood
!
Mood
’
s
a
thing
for
cattle
or
making
love
or
playing
the
baliset
.
It
’
s
not
for
fighting
.
”
“
I
’
m
sorry
,
Gurney
.
”
“
You
’
re
not
sorry
enough
!
”
Halleck
activated
his
own
shield
,
crouched
with
kindjal
outthrust
in
left
hand
,
the
rapier
poised
high
in
his
right
.
“
Now
I
say
guard
yourself
for
true
!
”
He
leaped
high
to
one
side
,
then
forward
,
pressing
a
furious
attack
.
Paul
fell
back
,
parrying
.
He
felt
the
field
crackling
as
shield
edges
touched
and
repelled
each
other
,
sensed
the
electric
tingling
of
the
contact
along
his
skin
.
What
’
s
gotten
into
Gurney
?
he
asked
himself
.
He
’
s
not
faking
this
!
Paul
moved
his
left
hand
,
dropped
his
bodkin
into
his
palm
from
its
wrist
sheath
.