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第26章

bh.houseatreides-第26章

小说: bh.houseatreides 字数: 每页4000字

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 For a Planetologist's purposes; though; being lost caused little concern。 He was an explorer; after all; which required him to wander about with no plan and no destination。 Even when his ornithopter began to rattle; he pressed on。 The ion…propulsion engine was strong and the battered craft handled reasonably well; even in powerful gusts and updrafts of hot air。 He had enough fuel to last him for weeks。
 Kynes remembered all too well the years he had spent on harsh Salusa; trying to prehend the catastrophe that had ruined it centuries before。 He had seen ancient pictures; knew how beautiful the former capital world had once been。 But in his heart it would always remain the hellish place it was now。
 Something epochal had happened here on Arrakis; too; but no witnesses or records had survived that ancient disaster。 He didn't think it could have been atomic; though that solution might be easy to postulate。 The ancient wars before and during the Butlerian Jihad had been devastating; had turned entire solar systems into rubble and dust。
 No。。。something different had happened here。
 MORE DAYS; MORE WANDERING。
 On a barren; silent ridge halfway around the world; Kynes climbed to the top of another rocky peak。 He had landed his 'thopter on a flat; boulder…strewn saddle; then walked up the slope; picking his way hand over hand with jangling equipment on his back。

 In the unimaginative fashion of early cartographers; this curving arm of rock that formed a barrier between the Habanya Erg to the east and the great sink of the Cielago Depression to the west had been forever named False Wall West。 He determined this would be a good spot to establish a data…collection outpost。
 Feeling the exertion in his thighs and hearing the click…ticking of his overworked stillsuit; Kynes knew he must be perspiring heavily。 Even so; his suit absorbed and recycled all of his bodily moisture; and he was in good shape。 When he could stand it no longer; he drew a lukewarm sip through the catchtube near his throat; then continued to trudge upward on the rough surface。 The best place to conserve water is in your own body; said conventional Fremen wisdom; according to the vendor who had sold him his equipment。 He was accustomed to the slick stillsuit by now; it had bee a second skin to him。
 At the craggy pinnacle  about twelve hundred meters high; according to his altimeter  he stopped at a natural shelter formed by a broken tooth of hard stone。 There; he set up his portable weather station。 Its analytical devices would record wind speeds and directions; temperatures; barometric pressures; and fluctuations in relative humidity。
 Around the globe; centuries…old biological testing stations had been erected in the days long before the properties of melange had been discovered。 Back then; Arrakis had been no more than an unremarkable; dry planet with little in the way of desirable resources  of no interest to any but the most desperate of colonists。 Many of those testing stations had fallen into disrepair; unattended; some even forgotten。
 Kynes doubted the information gleaned from those stations would be very reliable。 For now; he wanted his own data from his own instruments。 With the whir of a tiny fan; an air…sampler gulped an atmospheric specimen and spilled out the position readings: 23 percent oxygen; 75。4 percent nitrogen; 0。023 percent carbon dioxide; along with other trace gases。
 Kynes found the numbers most peculiar。 Perfectly breathable; of course; and exactly what one might expect from a normal planet with a thriving ecosystem。 But in this scorched realm; those partial pressures raised enormous questions。 With no seas or rainstorms; no plankton masses; no vegetative covering。。。where did all the oxygen e from? It made absolutely no sense。
 The only large indigenous life…forms he knew of were the sandworms。 Could there be so many of the beasts that their metabolisms actually had a measurable effect on the position of the atmosphere? Did some odd form of plankton teem within the sands themselves? Melange deposits were known to have an organic ponent; but Kynes had no idea what its source could be。 Is there a connection between the voracious worms and the spice?
 Arrakis was one ecological mystery built upon another。
 With his preparations plete; Kynes turned from the perfect spot for his meteorological station。 Then he realized with startling abruptness that parts of the seemingly natural alcove atop this isolated peak had been intentionally fashioned。
 He bent down; amazed; and ran his fingers over rough notches。 Steps cut into the rock! Human hands had done this not long ago; chopping out easy access to this place。 An outpost? A lookout? A Fremen observation station?
 A chill shot down his spine; borne on a trickle of sweat that the stillsuit greedily drank。 At the same time; he felt a thrill of excitement; because the Fremen themselves might bee allies; a hardened people who had the same agenda as he did; the same need to understand and improve 。。。。
 As Kynes turned around in the open air; searching; he felt exposed。 〃Hello?〃 he called out; but only the desert silence answered him。
 How is all of this connected? he wondered。 And what; if anything; do the Fremen know about it?
 Who can know whether Ix has gone too far? They hide their facilities; keep their workers enslaved; and claim the right of secrecy。 Under such circumstances; how can they not be tempted to step beyond the restrictions of the Butlerian Jihad?
 …COUNT ILBAN RICHESE; third appeal to the Landsraad
 Use your resources and use your wits;〃 the Old Duke had always told him。 Now; as he stood alone and shivering; Leto took stock of both。
 He contemplated his grim and unexpected solitude on the wilderness surface of Ix  or wherever this place was。 Had he been stranded here by accident or treachery? What was the worst case? The Guild should have kept a record of where he'd been unceremoniously discharged。 His father and House Atreides troops could rally out and find him when he didn't show up at his intended destination  but how long would that take? How long could he survive here? If Vernius was behind this treachery; would the Earl even report him missing?
 Leto tried to be optimistic; but he knew it might be a long time before help could e。 He had no food; no warm clothing; not even a portable shelter。 He had to take care of this problem himself。
 〃Hello!〃 he shouted again。 The vast emptiness snatched his words and drained them to nothing; without even bothering to echo them back。
 He considered venturing forth in search of some land mark or settlement; but decided to stay put for the time being。 Next; he mentally assessed the possessions he'd brought in his suitcases; trying to think of what he might use to send a message。
 Then; from beside him; in a blue…green thicket of spiny plants struggling to survive in the tundra; came a rustling sound。 Startled; Leto jumped back; then looked closer。 Assassins? A group intending to take him captive? The ransom of a ducal heir might bring a mountain of solaris。。。as well as the wrath of Paulus Atreides。
 He drew the curve…bladed fishing knife from its sheath at his back and made ready to fight。 His heart pounded as he tried to guess his peril; to prepare in some way。 An Atreides had no qualms about shedding necessary blood。
 The branches and pointed leaves moved; then opened to reveal a round plaz pad on the ground。 With a hum of machinery; a transparent lift tube emerged from beneath the surface; looking totally incongruous on the rugged landscape。
 A stocky young man stood inside the transparent tube; grinning a warm wele。 He had blond; unruly hair that looked tousled despite careful bing; he wore loose military…style trousers and a color…shifting camouflage shirt。 His pale; open face had soft edges from outgrown baby fat。 A small pack hung on the stranger's left shoulder; similar to the one he carried in his hand。 He appeared to be about Leto's age。
 The transparent lift came to a stop; and a curved door rotated open。 A breath of warm air brushed Leto's hands and face。 He crouched; ready to attack with his fishing knife; though he could not imagine this innocuous…looking stranger to be a k

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