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- Фрэнк Герберт
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“
You
haven
’
t
lived
with
the
Fremen
dream
,
”
Paul
cautioned
.
“
Stil
is
thinking
of
all
the
water
we
’
ve
spent
on
bribes
,
the
years
of
waiting
we
’
ve
added
before
Arrakis
can
bloom
.
He
’
s
not
—
”
“
Arrrgh
,
”
Gurney
scowled
.
“
Why
’
s
he
so
gloomy
?
”
Stilgar
asked
.
“
He
’
s
always
gloomy
before
a
battle
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
It
’
s
the
only
form
of
good
humor
Gurney
allows
himself
.
”
A
slow
,
wolfish
grin
spread
across
Gurney
’
s
face
,
the
teeth
showing
white
above
the
chip
cut
of
his
stillsuit
.
“
It
glooms
me
much
to
think
on
all
the
poor
Harkonnen
souls
we
’
ll
dispatch
unshriven
,
”
he
said
.
Stilgar
chuckled
.
“
He
talks
like
a
Fedaykin
.
”
“
Gurney
was
born
a
death
commando
,
”
Paul
said
.
And
he
thought
:
Yes
,
let
them
occupy
their
minds
with
small
talk
before
we
test
ourselves
against
that
force
on
the
plain
.
He
looked
to
the
gap
in
the
rock
wall
and
back
to
Gurney
,
found
that
the
troubadour
-
warrior
had
resumed
a
brooding
scowl
.
“
Worry
saps
the
strength
,
”
Paul
murmured
.
“
You
told
me
that
once
,
Gurney
.
”
“
My
Duke
,
”
Gurney
said
,
“
my
chief
worry
is
the
atomics
.
If
you
use
them
to
blast
a
hole
in
the
Shield
Wall
.
.
.
.
”
“
Those
people
up
there
won
’
t
use
atomics
against
us
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
They
don
’
t
dare
.
.
.
and
for
the
same
reason
that
they
cannot
risk
our
destroying
the
source
of
the
spice
.
”