Read Online Dune: The Machine Crusade by Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson
Tags: Science-Fiction
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melange to offworlders. Over the years, working alone, Selim had raided many encampments, destroying any spice the Zensunni gathered. He had earned a legendary reputation and the title “Wormrider.”
Not long afterward, he had begun to accumulate followers.
Jafar had been the first, two decades ago, forsaking the protection of his own village near Arrakis City in order to search for this man who could ride the great desert beasts. Jafar had been almost dead by the time Selim found him, dehydrated, sunburned, and starving under the dazzling bright sky. Looking up at the lean and hardened outcast, Jafar had gasped through cracked lips— not a request for water, but a query. “Are you… the Wormrider?”
By then, Selim had been alone for more than five years— too alone— faced with a sacred task too great for a single man. He nursed Jafar back to health and taught him how to ride Shai-Hulud. In the following years, the pair had gathered rugged followers, men and women dissatisfied with the strict rules and unfair justice of life in the Zensunni cliff colonies. Selim told them of his mission to stop spice harvesting, and they listened, enthralled by the gleam in his eyes.
According to Selim’s repeated melange visions, the activities of the offworld merchants and the Zensunni gatherers would shatter the peace of the desert planet. Though the timeframe was dim, stretching into a vague, distant future, the spread of spice across the Galaxy would eventually lead to the extinction of all worms and a crisis of human civilization. Although his words were frightening, when they saw him proudly riding atop the mountainous curve of a great sandworm, no one could doubt his claims or his faith.
But even I do not understand Shai-Hulud… the Old Man of the Desert.
As a young scamp, exiled from his tribe, Selim had never wanted to be a leader. But now, after decades of living by his own wits and making decisions for the group of followers who depended on him for guidance and survival, Selim Wormrider was a confident, clearheaded general who had begun to believe the myth that he was indestructible, a demon of the desert. Despite devoting his life to preserving the worms, he did not expect the capricious Shai-Hulud to show him any gratitude….
Unexpectedly, Jafar returned to the high chamber, making so much commotion that Selim stepped away from the window opening and saw that his friend had brought a newcomer. She looked dirty and lean, but her dark eyes shone with a haughty defiance. Her dusty brown hair had been cropped short. Her cheeks were sunburned below her eyes, but the rest of her seemed intact. The young woman must have been wise enough to wrap herself against the worst ravages of the sun. A curved white scar like a crescent moon rode above her left eyebrow, an exotic punctuation to her coarse beauty.
“Look what we found out in the desert, Selim.” Jafar stood tall and stoic, unflappable, but Selim caught a hint of humorous gleam behind his deep blue eyes.
The young woman stepped away from the tall man, as if to prove she did not need his protection. “My name is Marha. I have traveled alone in search of you.” Then her face flickered with uncertainty and awe, making her look unexpectedly young. “I am… honored to meet you, Selim Wormrider!”
He held her chin, turning her face up to look at him. Lean and dirty, but with large eyes and strong features. “You’re just a slip of a girl. Won’t be much use for heavy labor around here. Why have you left your own people?”
“Because they are all fools,” she snapped.
“Many people are fools, once you get to know them.”
“Not me. I came to join you.”
Selim raised his eyebrows, amused. “We shall see.” He turned to look at Jafar. “Where did you find her? How close did she approach?”
“We caught her beneath the Needle Rock. She had camped there and didn’t know we’d been watching her.”
“I would have seen you,” she
Not long afterward, he had begun to accumulate followers.
Jafar had been the first, two decades ago, forsaking the protection of his own village near Arrakis City in order to search for this man who could ride the great desert beasts. Jafar had been almost dead by the time Selim found him, dehydrated, sunburned, and starving under the dazzling bright sky. Looking up at the lean and hardened outcast, Jafar had gasped through cracked lips— not a request for water, but a query. “Are you… the Wormrider?”
By then, Selim had been alone for more than five years— too alone— faced with a sacred task too great for a single man. He nursed Jafar back to health and taught him how to ride Shai-Hulud. In the following years, the pair had gathered rugged followers, men and women dissatisfied with the strict rules and unfair justice of life in the Zensunni cliff colonies. Selim told them of his mission to stop spice harvesting, and they listened, enthralled by the gleam in his eyes.
According to Selim’s repeated melange visions, the activities of the offworld merchants and the Zensunni gatherers would shatter the peace of the desert planet. Though the timeframe was dim, stretching into a vague, distant future, the spread of spice across the Galaxy would eventually lead to the extinction of all worms and a crisis of human civilization. Although his words were frightening, when they saw him proudly riding atop the mountainous curve of a great sandworm, no one could doubt his claims or his faith.
But even I do not understand Shai-Hulud… the Old Man of the Desert.
As a young scamp, exiled from his tribe, Selim had never wanted to be a leader. But now, after decades of living by his own wits and making decisions for the group of followers who depended on him for guidance and survival, Selim Wormrider was a confident, clearheaded general who had begun to believe the myth that he was indestructible, a demon of the desert. Despite devoting his life to preserving the worms, he did not expect the capricious Shai-Hulud to show him any gratitude….
Unexpectedly, Jafar returned to the high chamber, making so much commotion that Selim stepped away from the window opening and saw that his friend had brought a newcomer. She looked dirty and lean, but her dark eyes shone with a haughty defiance. Her dusty brown hair had been cropped short. Her cheeks were sunburned below her eyes, but the rest of her seemed intact. The young woman must have been wise enough to wrap herself against the worst ravages of the sun. A curved white scar like a crescent moon rode above her left eyebrow, an exotic punctuation to her coarse beauty.
“Look what we found out in the desert, Selim.” Jafar stood tall and stoic, unflappable, but Selim caught a hint of humorous gleam behind his deep blue eyes.
The young woman stepped away from the tall man, as if to prove she did not need his protection. “My name is Marha. I have traveled alone in search of you.” Then her face flickered with uncertainty and awe, making her look unexpectedly young. “I am… honored to meet you, Selim Wormrider!”
He held her chin, turning her face up to look at him. Lean and dirty, but with large eyes and strong features. “You’re just a slip of a girl. Won’t be much use for heavy labor around here. Why have you left your own people?”
“Because they are all fools,” she snapped.
“Many people are fools, once you get to know them.”
“Not me. I came to join you.”
Selim raised his eyebrows, amused. “We shall see.” He turned to look at Jafar. “Where did you find her? How close did she approach?”
“We caught her beneath the Needle Rock. She had camped there and didn’t know we’d been watching her.”
“I would have seen you,” she
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