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."Turok looked at him, surprised and disbelieving.Then he shrugged."As youwish, Planetologist." Knowing the conservative ways of the sietch elders, Turokwas pessimistic about the fate of this enthusiastic but not terribly bright man.What a futile effort it would be for Kynes to continue his vigorous work.Butif it kept him happy in his last days."Come," Turok said."Put on your stillsuit.""Oh, we'll only be out for a few minutes."Turok scowled at him, looking stern and much older."A breath of moisture iswater wasted into the air.We are not so rich we can afford to waste water."Shrugging, Kynes pulled on his crinkling, slick-surfaced uniform and took thetime to attach all the seals, though he did so clumsily.Heaving a heavy sigh,Turok assisted him, explaining the most effective way to dress out the suit andadjust the fittings to optimize its efficiency."You have bought a decent stillsuit.It is of Fremen manufacture," the youngman observed."In this at least you have chosen well."Kynes followed Turok to the storage chamber where his groundcar had been kept.The Fremen had stripped it of amenities, and his equipment lay in open boxes onthe cave floor, inspected and cataloged.No doubt the sietch inhabitants hadbeen trying to determine how they could put these things to use.They're still planning to kill me, Kynes thought.Haven't they heard a thingI've said? Oddly, the thought neither depressed nor frightened him.He simplytook the knowledge as a challenge.He was not about to give up -- there was toomuch left to do.He would have to make them understand.Among the clutter he found his weather apparatus and tucked the components underhis arms, but made no comment about what had been done to his possessions.Heknew Fremen had a communal mentality: Every item owned by an individual was owned by the entire community.Since he had spent so much of his life alone,relying only on himself and his abilities, he found it difficult to absorb sucha mind-set.Turok did not offer to carry any of the equipment, but led the way up steepsteps that had been rough-hewn into the stone wall.Kynes panted but did notcomplain.Ahead of him the guide shifted aside numerous barricades, moisturebaffles, and doorseals.Turok flashed glances over his shoulder to make surethe Planetologist was keeping up, then increased his speed.Finally they emerged from a cleft atop the rubble-strewn peaks.The youngFremen leaned back in the shadow of the rocks, keeping himself cool, while Kynesstepped out into open sunlight.All around them the stone was coppery brownwith a few discolorations of lichen.A good sign, he thought.The advancefootprints of biological systems.As he stared out at the sweeping vista of the Great Basin, he saw dunes thatwere the grayish white and brown of newly decomposed rock grains, as well as thebuttery yellow of older, oxidized sand.From the sandworms he'd seen, as well as the teeming sand plankton in the spice-rich sands, Kynes knew that Dune already had the basis for a complex ecosystem.He was certain it would take only a few crucial nudges in the proper directionto make this dormant place blossom.The Fremen people could do it."Imperial man," said Turok, stepping forward from the shade, "what is it you seewhen you stare out onto the desert like that?"Kynes answered without looking at him."I see limitless possibilities."IN A SEALED chamber deep in the sietch, wizened Heinar sat at the head of astone table, glaring with his single eye.Trying to remain apart from thedebate, the sietch Naib watched the council elders shout at each other."We know the man's loyalty," said one old man, Jerath."He works for theImperium.You've seen his dossier.He's on Dune as a guest of the Harkonnens."Jerath had a silver ring in his left earlobe, a treasure taken from a smugglerhe'd killed in a duel."That means nothing," said another elder, Aliid."As Fremen, do we not donother clothes, other masks, and pretend to fit in? It's a means of survivalwhen circumstances require it.You, of all people should know not to judgesomeone solely on appearances."Garnah, a weary-looking long-haired elder, rested his pointed chin on hisknuckles."I'm most incensed at those three young idiots, what they did afterthe Planetologist helped them defeat the Harkonnen bravos.Any straight-thinking adult would have shrugged and sent the man's shade to join those of thesix dead vermin on the ground.with some regret, of course, but still itshould have been done." He sighed."These are inexperienced youths, poorlytrained.They should never had been left alone in the desert."Heinar flared his nostrils."You cannot fault their thinking, Garnah.Therewas the moral obligation -- Pardot Kynes had saved their lives.Even brash young men such as those three realized the water burden that had been placed onthem.""But what of their obligations to Red Wall Sietch and our people?" long-hairedGarnah insisted."Does a debt owed to a mere Imperial servant outweigh theirloyalty to us?""The question isn't about the boys," Aliid interrupted."Ommun, Turok, andStilgar did what they thought was best.We are now left to decide about thisPlanetologist and his fate.""He's a madman," the first elder, Jerath, said."Have you heard him talk? Hewants trees, open water, irrigation, crops -- he envisions a verdant planetinstead of desert." A snort, then a toying with the ring in his ear."He'smad, I say."Puckering his mouth skeptically, Aliid pointed out, "After the thousands ofyears of wandering that finally brought us here and made our people what we are-- how can you scorn one man's dream of paradise?"Jerath frowned, but accepted the point."Perhaps Kynes is mad," Garnah said, "but just mad enough to be holy.Perhapshe's mad enough to hear the words of God in a way that we cannot.""That is a question we cannot decide among us," Heinar said, finally using aNaib's voice of command to focus the discussion back on the matter at hand."The choice we face is not about the word of God, but about the survival of oursietch.Pardot Kynes has seen our ways, lived in our hidden home.By Imperialcommand, he sends reports back to Kaitain whenever he finds himself in a city.Think of the risk to us.""But what of all his talk about paradise on Dune?" Aliid asked, still trying todefend the stranger."Open water, dunes anchored by grass, palmaries filledwith tall date palms, open qanats flowing across the desert.""Crazy talk and no more," grumbled Jerath."The man knows too much -- about us,about the Fremen, about Dune.He cannot be allowed to hold such secrets."Doggedly, Aliid tried again."But he killed Harkonnens.Doesn't that placeupon us, and our sietch, a water debt? He saved three members of our tribe.""Since when do we owe the Imperium anything?" Jerath asked with another tug onhis earring."Anyone can kill Harkonnens," Garnah added with a shrug, shifting his pointedchin to his other fist."I've done it myself."Heinar leaned forward."All right, Aliid -- what of this talk about theflowering of Dune? Where is the water for all this? Is there any possibilitythe Planetologist can do what he says?""Haven't you heard him?" Garnah replied in a mocking tone."He says the wateris here, far more than the miserable amounts we collect for our sustenance."Jerath raised his eyebrows and snorted [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]