"Frank Herbert - Dune 1 - Dune (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

file:///F|/rah/Herbert,%20Frank/Dune%201%20-%20Dune.txt (22 of 274) [1/14/03 7:28:44 PM]
 file:///F|/rah/Herbert,%20Frank/Dune%201%20-%20Dune.txt

"But the supporting levies the Emperor demands from --"
"That's what we're led to believe: they're just the Emperor's levies trained young and
superbly. You hear an occasional muttering about the Emperor's training cadres, but the balance of
our civilization remains the same: the military forces of the Landsraad Great Houses on one side,
the Sardaukar and their supporting levies on the other. And their supporting levies, Paul. The
Sardaukar remain the Sardaukar."
"But every report on Salusa Secundus says S.S. is a hell world!"
"Undoubtedly. But if you were going to raise tough, strong, ferocious men, what environmental
conditions would you impose on them?"
"How could you win the loyalty of such men?"
"There are proven ways: play on the certain knowledge of their superiority, the mystique of
secret covenant, the esprit of shared suffering. It can be done. It has been done on many worlds
in many times."
Paul nodded, holding his attention on his father's face. He felt some revelation impending.
"Consider Arrakis," the Duke said. "When you get outside the towns and garrison villages, it's
every bit as terrible a place as Salusa Secundus."
Paul's eyes went wide. "The Fremen!"
"We have there the potential of a corps as strong and deadly as the Sardaukar. It'll require
patience to exploit them secretly and wealth to equip them properly. But the Fremen are there . .
. and the spice wealth is there. You see now why we walk into Arrakis, knowing the trap is there."
"Don't the Harkonnens know about the Fremen?"
"The Harkonnens sneered at the Fremen, hunted them for sport, never even bothered trying to
count them. We know the Harkonnen policy with planetary populations -- spend as little as possible
to maintain them."
The metallic threads in the hawk symbol above his father's breast glistened as the Duke
shifted his position. "You see?"
"We're negotiating with the Fremen right now," Paul said.
"I sent a mission headed by Duncan Idaho," the Duke said. "A proud and ruthless man, Duncan,
but fond of the truth. I think the Fremen will admire him. If we're lucky, they may judge us by
him: Duncan, the moral."
"Duncan, the moral," Paul said, "and Gurney the valorous."
"You name them well," the Duke said.
And Paul thought: Gurney's one of those the Reverend Mother meant, a supporter of worlds -- "
. . . the valor of the brave."
"Gurney tells me you did well in weapons today," the Duke said.
"That isn't what he told me."
The Duke laughed aloud. "I figured Gurney to be sparse with his praise. He says you have a
nicety of awareness -- in his own words -- of the difference between a blade's edge and its tip."
"Gurney says there's no artistry in killing with the tip, that it should be done with the
edge."
"Gurney's a romantic," the Duke growled. This talk of killing suddenly disturbed him, coming
from his son. "I'd sooner you never had to kill . . . but if the need arises, you do it however
you can -- tip or edge." He looked up at the skylight, on which the rain was drumming.
Seeing the direction of his father's stare, Paul thought of the wet skies out there -- a thing
never to be seen on Arrakis from all accounts -- and this thought of skies put him in mind of the