[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Four of the Fremen helpers had never been there before, and they rushed forward like pilgrims reaching a long-sought shrine.Ommun looked around, sniffing deeply, proud to have been part of this sacred project from the beginning.He tended Kynes like an old mother, making certain the Planetologist had everything he needed.“These workers will replace the team already here,” Ommun said.“We have smaller shifts now, because this place has survived— as you said it would.Plaster Basin is an ecosystem of its own.Now we are required to do less work to keep it healthy.”Kynes smiled proudly.“As it should be.One day all of Dune will be like this, self-sustaining and self-renewing.” He laughed, a short burst of sound.“Then what will you Fremen do to keep yourselves busy?”Ommun’s nostrils flared, callused from perpetually wearing nose plugs.“This is not yet our world, Umma Kynes.Not until we rid it of the hated Harkonnens.”Kynes blinked and nodded.He’d given little thought to the political aspect of the process.He had seen this only as an ecological problem, not a human one.Yet another thing he had missed.His son was right.The great Pardot Kynes had tunnel vision, seeing far into the future along a certain path.but missing all the hazards and distractions along the way.He had done the important ecological work, though.He had been the prime mover, starting what he hoped would be a planetwide avalanche of change.“I’d like to see this entire world caught up in a net of plants,” he said.Ommun made a wordless sound of agreement: Anything the prophet Kynes said was important and worth remembering.They strolled deeper into the moist cavern to view the gardens.The Fremen knew their duties, and they would continue the plantings, even if it took centuries.Through the geriatric qualities of their melange-filled diet, some of the younger ones might actually see the grand plan come to fruition; Kynes was satisfied just to observe the indications of change.The Plaster Basin project was a metaphor for all of Dune.His plan was now so firmly established in the Fremen psyche that it would continue even without his guidance.These hardy people had been infected by the dream, and the dream would not die.From now on, Kynes would be little more than a figurehead, the prophet of ecological transformation.He smiled softly to himself.Perhaps now he could make time to see the people around him, get to know his wife of twenty years, and spend more time guiding his son.Deep inside the cave, he examined dwarf trees laden with lemons, limes, and the sweet round oranges known as portyguls.Ommun walked beside him, looking over the irrigation systems, the fertilizers, the progress of the plantings.Kynes remembered showing Frieth the portyguls when he’d first brought her here, and the look of pleasure on her face when she tasted the honey-sweet orange flesh.It had been one of the most marvelous experiences in her entire life.Now Kynes stared at the fruit and knew he would have to take some of them back for her.When was the last time I brought her a gift? He couldn’t remember.Ommun went over to the limestone walls, touching them with his fingers.The chalky rock was soft and wet, unaccustomed to so much dampness.With his keen eyes, he followed disturbing traceries along the wall and ceiling, fracture lines that should not have been there.“Umma Kynes,” he said.“These cracks concern me.The integrity of this cave is.suspect, I believe.”As the two of them watched, one of the cracks grew visibly, jagging left and then right in a fine black lightning bolt.“You’re right.The water is probably making the rock expand and settle over.how many years now?” The Planetologist raised his eyebrows.Ommun calculated.“Twenty, Umma Kynes.”With a popping, shattering sound, a crack spread across the ceiling.and then others, in a chain reaction.The Fremen workers looked up in fear, then glanced over at Kynes, as if the great man could somehow avert disaster.“I believe we should get everyone out of the cave.Now.” Ommun took the Planetologist’s arm.“We must evacuate until we are sure this is safe.”Another loud boom sounded deep within the mountain, a grinding of rock as broken slabs shifted and tried to find a new stable point.Ommun tugged at the Planetologist, while the other Fremen scurried toward the exit.But Kynes hesitated, pulling his arm free of his lieutenant’s grasp.He had promised himself to give Frieth some of the ripe portyguls, to show her that he did indeed love and appreciate her.despite his inattentiveness for many years.He hurried to the small tree, and plucked some of the orange fruit.Ommun rushed back to take him away.Kynes cradled the portyguls against his chest, very glad that he had remembered to do this one important thing.• • •Stilgar brought the news to Liet-Kynes.In her sietch quarters, Faroula was sitting at a table with her young son Liet-chih, cataloging the jars of herbs she had gathered over the years, sealing the pots with resin and verifying the potency of the substances.On a bench near his new wife and adopted child, Liet-Kynes read through a purloined document that detailed the location of Harkonnen spice and military stockpiles.Stilgar held back the privacy curtain, waited like a statue.He stared at the far wall, not blinking his deep blue eyes.Immediately, Liet sensed something was wrong [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]