"Dune 03 - Whipping Mek (Short Story)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

Suddenly Chirox came at Vergyl harder and faster than before. Two more

arms extruded from the body core. One held a long dagger with a jagged tip for

snagging and ripping flesh. The other held a shimmering branding iron.

Zon Noret said something in an anxious tone, but the words blurred. The

entire universe that Vergyl had known up to this point faded, along with all

unnecessary sensory perception. He focused on only survival.

“I am a jihadi,” Vergyl whispered. He resigned himself to fate and at the

same time decided to inflict as much damage as he could. He recalled a pledge

that even the Construction Brigade had to memorize: “If I die in battle against the

machines, I will join those who have gone to Paradise before me, and those who

follow.” He felt a near-trancelike state consume him and remove all fear of death.

He plunged into battle, flailing away, striking the pulse sword against the

mek, discharging the weapon repeatedly. In the background, someone shouted

something, words he couldn’t make out. Then Vergyl heard a loud click, saw a

flash of color, and bright yellow light immersed him. It felt like a blast from a

polar wind and froze him in place.

Immobilized, helpless, Vergyl shuddered, then toppled. He fell for what

seemed like a great distance. His teeth chattered, and he shivered. He didn’t

seem to land anywhere.

Finally he found himself looking up into the robot’s gleaming optic sensors.

Totally vulnerable. “I can kill you now.” The machine pressed the jagged tip of

the long dagger against Vergyl’s neck.

DUNE: WHIPPING MEK

15

The combat mek could thrust the blade through his throat in a microsecond.