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—
from
“
Muad
’
Dib
:
The
Religious
Issues
”
by
the
Princess
Irulan
PAUL
WAITED
on
the
sand
outside
the
gigantic
maker
’
s
line
of
approach
.
I
must
not
wait
like
a
smuggler
—
impatient
and
jittering
,
he
reminded
himself
.
I
must
be
part
of
the
desert
.
The
thing
was
only
minutes
away
now
,
filling
the
morning
with
the
friction
-
hissing
of
its
passage
.
Its
great
teeth
within
the
cavern
-
circle
of
its
mouth
spread
like
some
enormous
flower
.
The
spice
odor
from
it
dominated
the
air
.
Paul
’
s
stillsuit
rode
easily
on
his
body
and
he
was
only
distantly
aware
of
his
nose
plugs
,
the
breathing
mask
.
Stilgar
’
s
teaching
,
the
painstaking
hours
on
the
sand
,
overshadowed
all
else
.
“
How
far
outside
the
maker
’
s
radius
must
you
stand
in
pea
sand
?
”
Stilgar
had
asked
him
.
And
he
had
answered
correctly
:
“
Half
a
meter
for
every
meter
of
the
maker
’
s
diameter
.
”
“
Why
?
”
“
To
avoid
the
vortex
of
its
passage
and
still
have
time
to
run
in
and
mount
it
.
”
“
You
’
ve
ridden
the
little
ones
bred
for
the
seed
and
the
Water
of
Life
,
”
Stilgar
had
said
.
“
But
what
you
’
ll
summon
for
your
test
is
a
wild
maker
,
an
old
man
of
the
desert
.
You
must
have
proper
respect
for
such
a
one
.
”
