By Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson
Frank Herbert's Dune ended with Paul Muad'Dib in charge of the planet Dune. Herbert's subsequent Dune e-book, Dune Messiah, picked up the tale a number of years later after Paul's armies had conquered the galaxy. yet what occurred among Dune and Dune Messiah? How did Paul create his empire and develop into the Messiah? Following within the footsteps of Frank Herbert, manhattan instances bestselling authors Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson are answering those questions in Paul of Dune.
The Muad'Dib's jihad is in complete swing. His warrior legions march from victory to victory. yet underneath the enjoyment of victory there are risky undercurrents. Paul, like approximately each nice conqueror, has enemies—those who may betray him to thieve the remarkable strength he instructions. . . .
And Paul himself starts off to have doubts: Is the jihad getting out of his keep watch over? Has he created anarchy? Has he been betrayed by means of these he loves and trusts the main? And so much of all, he wonders: Am I going mad?
Paul of Dune is a unique all people probably want to learn and not anyone may be in a position to omit.
Read or Download Paul of Dune (Dune: Heroes of Dune, Book 1) PDF
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Additional info for Paul of Dune (Dune: Heroes of Dune, Book 1)
He’d done it before. He was doing it now. Fuck him. I didn’t want to die of old age walking out of the south Gobi, but fuck him. Then the intercom crackled to life. The pilot said something fast and tonal—Cantonese, I thought, not that I could follow it. The Antonov banked hard and picked up speed as the engines coughed a bloom of black smoke. Whatever it was we were looking for, we’d found it. Hannaday just smiled. ” Ladder work? Out here? * * * And damn me if we didn’t bounce to a landing somewhere not much different from anywhere else.
He was an Agency cowboy I’d last seen on the wrong end of a Glock in Kandahar two years earlier. Whipcord thin, still wearing the same damned Armani suit. How the fuck had that spook gotten into the camp without me seeing him? My legs still ached whenever it got chilly. I briefly considered firing off my Stinger inside the ger, just punching the warhead into Hannaday’s chest, but that would have pretty much toasted us all. “Stow it,” growled Korunov. Two hundred kilos or not, that man could and did snap necks.
He was pale and sweating. ” I said. ” I went and looked. Our spaceman was a girl, not more than fifteen, eyes bloodshot from reentry gees, barely moving even as she stared at us. Blue-black skin, shaved head. A girl. Who’d dropped out of the Central Asian sky in a Russian spaceship. Kids on the International Space Station? Not fucking likely. Not in this lifetime. ” * * * The Antonov lumbered back to camp. Nichols sat in the back of the plane with his shotgun, watching the kid and cursing in an extended monotone, mostly Russian.