bh.houseatreides-第23部分

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　the　geological　blemishes　and　patterns；　the　colors　of　rock；　the　canyons。
　Through　the　sand…scratched　front　windows　he　could　see　dry　rills　and　gorges；　the　diverging　brooms　of　alluvial　fans　from　ancient　floods。　Some　of　the　steep　canyon　walls　appeared　to　have　been　cut　by　water　abrasion；　like　a　shigawire　strand　sawing　through　strata。　Once；　in　the　distance　shimmering　with　the　ripples　of　a　heat　mirage；　he　thought　he　saw　a　sparkling　salt…encrusted　playa　that　could　easily　have　been　a　dried　sea　bottom。　But　when　he　flew　in　that　direction；　he　couldn't　find　it。
　Kynes　became　convinced　that　this　planet　had　once　held　water。　A　lot　of　it。　The　evidence　was　there　for　any　Planetologist　to　see。　But　where　had　it　all　gone？
　The　amount　of　ice　in　the　polar　caps　was　insignificant；　mined　by　water　merchants　and　hauled　down　to　the　cities；　where　it　was　sold　at　a　premium。　The　caps　certainly　did　not　hold　enough　to　explain　vanished　oceans　or　dried　rivers。　Had　the　native　water　somehow　been　destroyed　or　removed　from　the　planet。。。or　was　it　just　hiding？
　Kynes　flew　on；　keeping　his　eyes　open　and　searching；　constantly　searching。　Diligently　piling　his　journals；　he　took　notes　of　every　interesting　thing　he　spotted。　It　would　take　years　to　gather　enough　information　for　a　well…founded　treatise；　but　in　the　past　month　he　had　already　transmitted　two　regular　progress　reports　back　to　the　Emperor；　just　to　show　he　was　doing　his　appointed　job。　He'd　handed　these　reports　to　an　Imperial　Courier　and　a　Guild　representative；　one　in　Arrakeen；　the　other　in　Carthag。　But　he　had　no　idea　if　Elrood　or　his　advisors　even　read　them。
　Kynes　found　himself　lost　most　of　the　time。　His　maps　and　charts　were　deplorably　inplete　or　absolutely　wrong；　which　puzzled　him。　If　Arrakis　was　the　sole　source　of　melange　　which；　therefore；　made　this　planet　one　of　the　most　important　in　the　Imperium　　then　why　was　the　landscape　so　poorly　charted？　If　the　Spacing　Guild　would　just　install　a　few　more　high…resolution　satellites；　much　of　the　problem　could　be　solved。　No　one　seemed　to　know　the　answer。
　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。