the chance. He fell through the night, and she screamed with him. Anna. Anna Sheridan.
His father towered over him, dark, enraged. You're my apprentice. She's nothing to you! It was becoming harder and harder to add letters, to hold them all in his mind. He focused. Pushed.
Galen's breath deepened as Anna took control of him, and pain stabbed into his side. His heartbeat slowed, falling into pounding synchrony with hers. He searched for control of his hand, was about to pull away from her when he felt the penetrating tentacles of blackness hesitate in their paths.
U. Bunny was uncertain, confused by what she sensed.
Galen slammed his free hand against the fine metalwork on Anna's head. Let them fight for control of him. Perhaps it would give him a few more seconds to think. Yet he must focus only on the alphabet, each letter now a monolith of effort.
Anna circulated all through him now. Galen could feel her frustration at his tech's lack of response. She wanted what she had felt before, when they had connected in the tunnel. She found meaning only as part of the machine, in serving the machine. This machine was not working.
W. She located the problem. A transceiver at the base of his spinal cord was picking up an intense signal in the radio band. The signal overrode the tech, prevented it from acting. Anna searched for the source of the signal, sending herself out through the silver veins, through the machine built into the wall and through all those with which it was connected.
Bunny renewed her assault, claws ripping through Galen's mind. As he fiercely visualized the screen with the letters of the alphabet, thoughts and memories flashed in and out, leaking through his defenses.