Dominion Read Online Free PDF Page B

worry beads. As she began to speak, her voice was so low that Paul could barely hear her. He leaned closer.
    â€œI don’t think I could have blocked you all in that way even a few days ago: one person, maybe, but not an entire crew.” She glanced at him quickly to make sure she had his attention, then immediately looked away. “Also, this ability to . . . probe , this deep psychic contact, for want of a better description, that’s new too. It’s like my consciousness can now float free. I didn’t even have to think about what I was doing, Paul: it was just a natural reaction, in the same way that you might raise your hand to catch a ball when it’s thrown at you. But all this has happened only since we came through the wormhole. It could be that it’s somehow amplifying my abilities.”
    The words that had spilled from her abruptly stopped. Paul waited a moment while considering what she was telling him, and was about to reply when she started speaking again, though still not making eye contact.
    â€œAnd I couldn’t admit this to anyone else, only you, but it frightens me, Paul. It’s like—I don’t know, but the only comparison I can find is that I thought I was walking on solid ground, but then I looked down and saw that it was ice, and under it were these incredible depths, but also the risk of drowning. I’m sure whatever I’ve already done is just the beginning. It feels like there’s more to come. Much more.”
    Now she looked at him and he held her eyes. There were so many questions that he just couldn’t seem to formulate, and he wanted to say so much, to console her, to confront her, but all of his words seemed small and trite. What finally came out of his mouth surprised even him.
    â€œIf you can control minds,” he asked, “can you also read them?”
    Syl almost laughed. For a moment she thought about lying, but decided not to. Paul looked both ashamed and worried—ashamed to be concerned over something so personal at a time such as this, and worried that she had glimpsed his private self—and she knew that this was important to him. She cared so deeply about the young man before her: she hoped that he truly loved her, and if he did, surely he should understand what he loved, she reasoned, and would forgive her a moment of weakness. Anyway, she needed to know she could rely on him to be there for her. How could he ever be there for her when he didn’t truly know who she was, and what she might yet become? More than anything, she wanted to be honest, even at the cost of alienating him.
    â€œYes,” she replied, “I can.”
    â€œHave you read mine?”
    â€œYes. I shouldn’t have, but—”
    Again, she was tempted to be evasive, to find some excuse for her intrusion upon him, but she settled for the truth.
    â€œI wanted to,” she finished. “You mean so much to me, Paul, and I wanted to know that you felt the same way.”
    â€œSo what did you see?”
    â€œI saw that you . . . care . . .” she said, trailing off, leaving the rest unsaid. “I won’t look again.”
    He seemed to consider this, then stepped away from her, and for a moment she was certain that she’d made a mistake in confessing all to him. He looked around, agitated, as if searching for something.
    â€œSyl, they’re listening to us,” he said. “You told me so. This conversation—they’ll hear. They’ll know what you can do.”
    Syl shook her head.
    â€œNo. We’re in a box,” she said, “just you and I. No sound can penetrate it. They can’t hear or see us through it. I know, because I created it.”
    Paul frowned, and looked away from her again. Syl saw that his cup was sitting on the galley counter.
    â€œYour coffee has gone cold,” she said, for want of something else to say.
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAre