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Good
site
for
an
emergency
base
,
he
thought
.
Might
be
sensible
to
bury
a
few
supplies
here
.
He
glanced
back
,
watching
his
men
spread
out
as
they
followed
him
.
Good
men
,
even
the
new
ones
he
hadn
’
t
had
time
to
test
.
Good
men
.
Didn
’
t
have
to
be
told
every
time
what
to
do
.
Not
a
shield
glimmer
showed
on
any
of
them
.
No
cowards
in
this
bunch
,
carrying
shields
into
the
desert
where
a
worm
could
sense
the
field
and
come
to
rob
them
of
the
spice
they
found
.
From
this
slight
elevation
in
the
rocks
,
Gurney
could
see
the
spice
patch
about
half
a
kilometer
away
and
the
crawler
just
reaching
the
near
edge
.
He
glanced
up
at
the
coverflight
,
noting
the
altitude
—
not
too
high
.
He
nodded
to
himself
,
turned
to
resume
his
climb
up
the
ridge
.
In
that
instant
,
the
ridge
erupted
.
Twelve
roaring
paths
of
flame
streaked
upward
to
the
hovering
’
thopters
and
carrier
wing
.
There
came
a
blasting
of
metal
from
the
factory
crawler
,
and
the
rocks
around
Gurney
were
full
of
hooded
fighting
men
.
Gurney
had
time
to
think
:
By
the
horns
of
the
Great
Mother
!
Rockets
!
They
dare
to
use
rockets
!
Then
he
was
face
to
face
with
a
hooded
figure
who
crouched
low
,
crysknife
at
the
ready
.
Two
more
men
stood
waiting
on
the
rocks
above
to
left
and
right
.
Only
the
eyes
of
the
fighting
man
ahead
of
him
were
visible
to
Gurney
between
hood
and
veil
of
a
sand
-
colored
burnoose
,
but
the
crouch
and
readiness
warned
him
that
here
was
a
trained
fighting
man
.
The
eyes
were
the
blue
-
in
-
blue
of
the
deep
-
desert
Fremen
.
Gurney
moved
one
hand
toward
his
own
knife
,
kept
his
eyes
fixed
on
the
other
’
s
knife
.
If
they
dared
use
rockets
,
they
’
d
have
other
projectile
weapons
.
This
moment
argued
extreme
caution
.
He
could
tell
by
sound
alone
that
at
least
part
of
his
skycover
had
been
knocked
out
.
There
were
gruntings
,
too
,
the
noise
of
several
struggles
behind
him
.
