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- Фрэнк Герберт
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“
Through
there
and
beyond
,
that
’
s
food
processing
and
stillsuit
maintenance
.
”
She
looked
at
Paul
.
“
Your
suit
looks
new
.
But
if
it
needs
work
,
I
’
m
good
with
suits
.
I
work
in
the
factory
in
season
.
”
They
began
coming
on
knots
of
people
now
and
thicker
clusterings
of
openings
in
the
tunnel
’
s
sides
.
A
file
of
men
and
women
passed
them
carrying
packs
that
gurgled
heavily
,
the
smell
of
spice
strong
about
them
.
“
They
’
ll
not
get
our
water
,
”
Harah
said
.
“
Or
our
spice
.
You
can
be
sure
of
that
.
”
Paul
glanced
at
the
openings
in
the
tunnel
walls
,
seeing
the
heavy
carpets
on
the
raised
ledge
,
glimpses
of
rooms
with
bright
fabrics
on
the
walls
,
piled
cushions
.
People
in
the
openings
fell
silent
at
their
approach
,
followed
Paul
with
untamed
stares
.
“
The
people
find
it
strange
you
bested
Jamis
,
”
Harah
said
.
“
Likely
you
’
ll
have
some
proving
to
do
when
we
’
re
settled
in
a
new
sietch
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
like
killing
,
”
he
said
.
“
Thus
Stilgar
tells
it
,
”
she
said
,
but
her
voice
betrayed
her
disbelief
.
A
shrill
chanting
grew
louder
ahead
of
them
.
They
came
to
another
side
opening
wider
than
any
of
the
others
Paul
had
seen
.
He
slowed
his
pace
,
staring
in
at
a
room
crowded
with
children
sitting
cross
-
legged
on
a
maroon
-
carpeted
floor
.
At
a
chalkboard
against
the
far
wall
stood
a
woman
in
a
yellow
wraparound
,
a
projecto
-
stylus
in
one
hand
.
The
board
was
filled
with
designs
—
circles
,
wedges
and
curves
,
snake
tracks
and
squares
,
flowing
arcs
split
by
parallel
lines
.
