Deleted Scenes from Twilight of the Fifth Sun: Lantern
Lantern started out as two different stories, which then got merged into one. These are a few scenes that got left out:
DELETED SCENE: John and Rodney's morning after, in the version where John stays through the first night instead of getting dragged off to the infirmary right away.
Rodney woke to the background chatter of way too many people waking up way too early, and also a loud high pitch screech. "Wha-- what?" he moaned, looking around for a coffee cup. His mom said that it would stunt his growth, but Rodney didn't care. Einstein had probably started using at age five. He might have dwelt on how she'd never tell him no again, except the insufferable noise had yet to stop.
After the minute it took him to wipe the sleep out of his eyes, he was able to identify the screeching sound as Jeannie, cowering behind him and pointing at the spiky black mass that was John's hair.
"Christ, Jeannie, it's way too early for you to be making that sound. In fact, I'm not ever sure I knew it was physically possible for the human body to produce such a god-awful noise until a minute ago."
"But," Jeannie protested, still pointing at the now stirring mess of black hair resting on Rodney's belly.
"Oh, that's just my friend John." Maybe not friend. He bit his lip, hoping John wouldn't contradict him, adding, "He jumped in the ocean last night while you were asleep."
Jeannie finally quieted, though everyone was staring at them now. "It's okay. Bad dream," Rodney tried to explain. They nodded sympathetically. Rodney had woken to a fair share of shouts and whimpers during the night.
"What?" John mumbled, pushing himself up and stretching, exposing a thin sliver of belly that Rodney couldn't help but notice drew the attention of several teen-aged girls camping out with their family a few meters away. In the soft pastel of the early morning sun, Rodney could tell that the girls had a reason. Though he was still way too skinny, John was like every one of those popular boys who back on Earth who had taunted Rodney as the little geek who'd skipped three grades. His eyes were a dancing mischievous hazel, his features boyish and far too attractive, and the messy bedhead look actually seemed to complement him.
"Morning," Rodney said, realizing that this was probably the last time he'd speak with John. The girls would wave him over or he'd get into a game of football with some other boys and then he'd be the nucleus of some popular clique and wouldn't give Rodney the time of day. And if they ever got a school going in this place, they could totally forget any kind of friendship.
"Morning," John mumbled, collapsing back down (unfortunately pretty much into Rodney's lap). "God, I'm sore." Of course he would be, saving drowning damsels in distress could do that to a person.
Something (or rather someone) was poking Rodney in the back. He turned to find Jeannie once again hiding shyly behind him. He rolled his eyes.
AND THEN:
They settled into an awkward silence, as though suddenly realizing that they weren't friends, despite practically sleeping on top of each other the night before.
"So are you on the swim team or something?" Rodney asked once Jeannie was distracted by her helping of french toast. He'd just find out what John liked and pretend to be interested. How hard could it be?
John shook his head. "Football. Back when my dad was stationed in California, I used to surf, though."
"Football? The American kind? Isn't there a weight requirement?" Fine, he could pretend a lot of things - he had been the lead in his grade five play - but pretending to like American football was a crime against his national heritage.
John shrugged. "I'm not very good. Coach says I have a good arm, but I get tripped up with the running part. I sit on the bench mostly. You play the non-American kind?"
"No. Sports are a great way to spill my brilliant brains out of a cracked skull, and that's a tragedy the world just couldn't afford." Rodney stops himself too late, realizing that he was giving himself away.
"Yes, because you've done so much for science already." John sounded disdainful. Rodney cringed. He could always play it down.
Though he resented the idea that John thought he was stupid. "Hey, I built an a-bomb for my grade six science fair project!"
"And where'd you get the uranium? The local 7-11?"
"A non-working model, obviously! I'd hardly risk endangering my sperm count trying to work with radio active materials!"
"Yes, because that's really a concern."
"Not now, of course." He was only fourteen, after all, he'd just finally figured out where his dad kept all the porn, let alone the mechanics of what to actually do with a naked girl, if he should ever happen to stumble upon one. "But one day, yes, it would be a shame not to pass on my superior genes."
John just rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not think about it. Having a wife and kids, I mean. Not the other part."
Rodney grinned. Maybe later he'd show John his stolen Playboy. When Jeannie wasn't around, of course. "So, who's your favorite superhero?" It was an important question, after all. If John said Superman, then Rodney wasn't sure they could remain friends. Oh, wait, wasn't he trying to impress John, not the other way around?
John paused, giving it some serious consideration. "I don't really have a favorite. I like the ones where there're a lot of them the best. Like the Fantastic Four."
"Jessica Alba."
"Yeah, Jessica Alba," they paused for a moment of reverence. "And I like that the team is led by a smart guy instead of just some strong guy who always saves the day." So maybe John wasn't as dumb as he looked. And he clearly had some taste, if he preferred brains over brawn. Though by the looks of it, Rodney still doubted that he'd prefer brains to beauty.
"Hey, Batman's smart!"
"But he doesn't have any super powers."
"That's what makes him so great! He goes up against mutants and super villains and guys twice his size with just his wits and some seriously cool technology."
John shrugged. "Batman's okay. Hey, I really like the X-Men, too."
"You would. With some muscles and that hair you could pass for Wolverine. Could probably carry off the emo-tortured loner thing too."
"And who would you be, Cyclops?"
"Professor X. I could totally blow things up with my brain."
"But you wouldn't be able to use your legs!"
"Legs, smegs. Who needs them if you can use telekinesis to grab things from the fridge. You could probably even type, with that kind of control."
"Why bother moving at all?" John smirked.
"Exactly."
DELETED SCENE: A small segment foreshadowing the next chapter, in which Rodney and Cadman fight about Katie. Removed because John would get caught by Cadman for having the ATA gene if he and Rodney talked to her at this point.
"Look, McKay, what did you say to Katie?" Lieutenant Barbie was complaining. She seemed far too sarcastic to be in the military, let alone allowed near explosives, as she claimed.
"Nothing." Rodney didn't even know who Katie was.
Barbie rolled her eyes. "The botanist. The one taking care of your sister when you went sneaking off?"
"I wasn't sneaking off! I was gone for all of twenty minutes when your military hauled me off to talk to Sergeant Paranoid."
She shrugged. "Whatever you say. What'd you do to her?"
"I told her that if she wanted to tell me off for leaving Jeannie, she could get her own kid and see how difficult that is."
"Oh," Barbie gulped, looking worried. "I'll have to go find her. Look, I'm going to leave you three to your business. Sergeant Markham is going on duty. Try not to permanently traumatize him." She smiled, but seemed distracted, practically running from the hangar area.
"What was that all about?" John mumbled, yawning. He'd clearly had more sleep than Rodney, but he still looked gaunt and tired - too pale for someone who had been living in Nevada.
"Like I have any idea. C'mon, we can grab you some dinner before you head out."
"You mean, before we head out," John smirked.
DELETED SCENE: One version of John angsting about his father being dead, changed because this segment is from John's POV while the final scene is from Rodney's.
"He left me," John whispered. Because after his mother passed, dad had promised. He'd said that he never left a man behind and that included John. But now he was gone and John had ended up alone and this numb icy feeling spread through his limbs, quietly encircling his heart in the same way the chill of the alien sea had just the night before. It felt as though he'd been preparing for this his entire life. His genes, this project, this strange kid with his ability to snap his fingers and figure out the world, maybe this, not all of the potential his father had always claimed to see in him, was his true destiny. All those moves, walking alone under the desert sky, hiking through the hills of West Virginia, learning a thousand ways how to survive from his dad, the way he felt more at home already in this city that seemed to whispers haunting unintelligible lullabies, it all served some purpose. It had to. This world and all its stained-glass beauty had to be great because there was no other option but to do justice to the ashes of the world that was. Seven billion dead, in a heartbeat.
"He didn't leave you," Rodney replied. "They left him." It wasn't an auspicious beginning, breaking his father's first cardinal rule. But then Rodney gave him a shy crooked smile, burying himself in his laptop once again, and John forced all his muscles to tense, to hold their breath and release all this empty musing. They had a job to do now, a goal.
DELETED SCENE: The original scene in the Gateship Bay, when it was both John and Rodney there with Ford
"Yes, you're sorry; he's sorry; we're all sorry. Now could we please get on, either back to our camp or to the cool thing I believe we were promised?"
John laughed.
"What?"
"Can you say sorry again? It just sounds so--"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Rodney glowered, before turning to Ford. "Well? What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? Lead on."
And Ford did, despite the fact that he was being ordered around by a fourteen-year-old. "All right, you guys like planes?"
John perked up at that, following Ford eagerly down the corridor to a large door at the end of it
"Yes, he's practically salivating over them," Rodney answered for him.
"Good, then you guys are going tolove this."
John bit his lip in anticipation, imagining x-wings or the Enterprise, or maybe even a living ship, like Moya. But the door opened to reveal ... bread boxes.
"What the hell is that?!" Rodney exclaimed. "How does that even fly? I've seen more aerodynamic rocks."
Ford shrugged. "It's a gateship. They're shaped like that so they fit through the gate."
John supposed that made a little bit of sense, if you were trying to design the space faring equivalent of a minivan. Still, there wasn't any reason you could narrow the thing out at the tips, make it more like the Naboo fighter jets from Star Wars.
"They fly more like helicopters than planes anyway."
Rodney snapped his fingers. "Zero point energy! One of the byproducts of the theory is the ability to hover the way UFOs are said to. And if what I heard the blond talking about is correct, whoever built this city has mastered that kind of power generation."
"Whatever you say, kid," Ford replied. "Oh, did I tell you these things can like, go invisible?"
"Okay, so maybe they're not completely retarded, then," Rodney offered. "Can we see?"
"Um, yeah, let me find the remote. You guys can come inside, if you want. Can't take you anywhere without someone with the gene, though."
Rodney didn't seem to care, as he was already rushing toward one of the open hatches, mouth going a mile a minute asking questions about how it worked and what the control interface was like and what sort of velocities it could achieve. Ford trailed behind him, countering Rodney's babble with a litany of "please don't touch that" and "I don't know, you'd have to ask Dr. Z" and "no, seriously, you really shouldn't touch that."
John approached slower, feeling the now familiar tickle at the back of his mind. It would have looked like a string of golden light, maybe a hand beckoning, if it had looked like anything at all. It was another sense, one just out of reach, and it was telling him go, come forward, this is where you belong. It was more than a little frightening, and if Rodney hadn't already been in there rambling about the gateship's many wonders, John might have turned and ran the other way. But he couldn't think beyond the cloud of near euphoria tickling his awareness. He barely even noticed Rodney's ramble stutter to a close as he moved through the ship, not noticing any of the added Earth gear stored in its cargo components. He slid into the pilot's seat despite a very vehement, "don't touch that" from Ford. And the second his hands brushed the two small control sticks, the whole thing lit up, display after display spreading itself out before him.
"You have the gene," Ford said, but John wasn't listening, focusing instead on making the ship hover.
"Oh, my god!" Rodney screeched. "You're not even old enough to drive a car! Put us back down! Down, on the ground! John, are you trying to--"
John tuned him out. This was it. This was why he'd been saved. Not by some bureaucratic mix up somewhere, but by some other force in the universe that wanted people to live out their true purposes. That was the only explanation for how right this felt.
"I have to agree with your friend, kid. Put us down."
John nodded, but he'd barely touched the gateship back down on the ground when there it was, flowing through the narrow crack in the door - the terrifying black mist.
"Okay, seriously, what's up with the fog?" Rodney asked, looking expectantly at Ford.
"I don't know, but it's coming right at us," Ford replied, already hitting his radio. "Colonel Sumner, we have a situation in the Gateship Bay.... A kind of black mist. Like a shadow, Sir."
"It's still coming toward us!" Rodney shouted.
"Bring up the shield," Ford ordered.
John did his best to comply, thinking about what the Enterprise would do against a Klingon battle cruiser, and sure enough, a field sparkled to life before them. Unfortunately, this only made the mist come quicker, enveloping them like the sudden darkness of a solar eclipse. The windshield in front of them flashed, showing rapidly depleting power reserves, and a map that showed the darkness growing ever larger.
"Shut it down! Shut it down!" Rodney shouted.
Ford protested, "No, don't. That shield's the only thing standing between us and that thing out there! I've called for backup."
"What are they going to do, shoot at the big bad fog?" Rodney snapped. "It's feeding off the power. Shut it down."
John didn't need to be told twice. He just pulled his hands back from the controls and watch all the light flick off with a disquieting stillness at the back of his mind. It took only seconds for the darkness to recede.
"Told you," Rodney preened.
"Good for you. Now how do we stop it?" Ford asked, looking stunned.
"How in the hell should I know?" Rodney spluttered. "They don't exactly teach mysterious black fog fighting techniques at University."
DELETED SCENE: John and Rodney's morning after, in the version where John stays through the first night instead of getting dragged off to the infirmary right away.
Rodney woke to the background chatter of way too many people waking up way too early, and also a loud high pitch screech. "Wha-- what?" he moaned, looking around for a coffee cup. His mom said that it would stunt his growth, but Rodney didn't care. Einstein had probably started using at age five. He might have dwelt on how she'd never tell him no again, except the insufferable noise had yet to stop.
After the minute it took him to wipe the sleep out of his eyes, he was able to identify the screeching sound as Jeannie, cowering behind him and pointing at the spiky black mass that was John's hair.
"Christ, Jeannie, it's way too early for you to be making that sound. In fact, I'm not ever sure I knew it was physically possible for the human body to produce such a god-awful noise until a minute ago."
"But," Jeannie protested, still pointing at the now stirring mess of black hair resting on Rodney's belly.
"Oh, that's just my friend John." Maybe not friend. He bit his lip, hoping John wouldn't contradict him, adding, "He jumped in the ocean last night while you were asleep."
Jeannie finally quieted, though everyone was staring at them now. "It's okay. Bad dream," Rodney tried to explain. They nodded sympathetically. Rodney had woken to a fair share of shouts and whimpers during the night.
"What?" John mumbled, pushing himself up and stretching, exposing a thin sliver of belly that Rodney couldn't help but notice drew the attention of several teen-aged girls camping out with their family a few meters away. In the soft pastel of the early morning sun, Rodney could tell that the girls had a reason. Though he was still way too skinny, John was like every one of those popular boys who back on Earth who had taunted Rodney as the little geek who'd skipped three grades. His eyes were a dancing mischievous hazel, his features boyish and far too attractive, and the messy bedhead look actually seemed to complement him.
"Morning," Rodney said, realizing that this was probably the last time he'd speak with John. The girls would wave him over or he'd get into a game of football with some other boys and then he'd be the nucleus of some popular clique and wouldn't give Rodney the time of day. And if they ever got a school going in this place, they could totally forget any kind of friendship.
"Morning," John mumbled, collapsing back down (unfortunately pretty much into Rodney's lap). "God, I'm sore." Of course he would be, saving drowning damsels in distress could do that to a person.
Something (or rather someone) was poking Rodney in the back. He turned to find Jeannie once again hiding shyly behind him. He rolled his eyes.
AND THEN:
They settled into an awkward silence, as though suddenly realizing that they weren't friends, despite practically sleeping on top of each other the night before.
"So are you on the swim team or something?" Rodney asked once Jeannie was distracted by her helping of french toast. He'd just find out what John liked and pretend to be interested. How hard could it be?
John shook his head. "Football. Back when my dad was stationed in California, I used to surf, though."
"Football? The American kind? Isn't there a weight requirement?" Fine, he could pretend a lot of things - he had been the lead in his grade five play - but pretending to like American football was a crime against his national heritage.
John shrugged. "I'm not very good. Coach says I have a good arm, but I get tripped up with the running part. I sit on the bench mostly. You play the non-American kind?"
"No. Sports are a great way to spill my brilliant brains out of a cracked skull, and that's a tragedy the world just couldn't afford." Rodney stops himself too late, realizing that he was giving himself away.
"Yes, because you've done so much for science already." John sounded disdainful. Rodney cringed. He could always play it down.
Though he resented the idea that John thought he was stupid. "Hey, I built an a-bomb for my grade six science fair project!"
"And where'd you get the uranium? The local 7-11?"
"A non-working model, obviously! I'd hardly risk endangering my sperm count trying to work with radio active materials!"
"Yes, because that's really a concern."
"Not now, of course." He was only fourteen, after all, he'd just finally figured out where his dad kept all the porn, let alone the mechanics of what to actually do with a naked girl, if he should ever happen to stumble upon one. "But one day, yes, it would be a shame not to pass on my superior genes."
John just rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not think about it. Having a wife and kids, I mean. Not the other part."
Rodney grinned. Maybe later he'd show John his stolen Playboy. When Jeannie wasn't around, of course. "So, who's your favorite superhero?" It was an important question, after all. If John said Superman, then Rodney wasn't sure they could remain friends. Oh, wait, wasn't he trying to impress John, not the other way around?
John paused, giving it some serious consideration. "I don't really have a favorite. I like the ones where there're a lot of them the best. Like the Fantastic Four."
"Jessica Alba."
"Yeah, Jessica Alba," they paused for a moment of reverence. "And I like that the team is led by a smart guy instead of just some strong guy who always saves the day." So maybe John wasn't as dumb as he looked. And he clearly had some taste, if he preferred brains over brawn. Though by the looks of it, Rodney still doubted that he'd prefer brains to beauty.
"Hey, Batman's smart!"
"But he doesn't have any super powers."
"That's what makes him so great! He goes up against mutants and super villains and guys twice his size with just his wits and some seriously cool technology."
John shrugged. "Batman's okay. Hey, I really like the X-Men, too."
"You would. With some muscles and that hair you could pass for Wolverine. Could probably carry off the emo-tortured loner thing too."
"And who would you be, Cyclops?"
"Professor X. I could totally blow things up with my brain."
"But you wouldn't be able to use your legs!"
"Legs, smegs. Who needs them if you can use telekinesis to grab things from the fridge. You could probably even type, with that kind of control."
"Why bother moving at all?" John smirked.
"Exactly."
DELETED SCENE: A small segment foreshadowing the next chapter, in which Rodney and Cadman fight about Katie. Removed because John would get caught by Cadman for having the ATA gene if he and Rodney talked to her at this point.
"Look, McKay, what did you say to Katie?" Lieutenant Barbie was complaining. She seemed far too sarcastic to be in the military, let alone allowed near explosives, as she claimed.
"Nothing." Rodney didn't even know who Katie was.
Barbie rolled her eyes. "The botanist. The one taking care of your sister when you went sneaking off?"
"I wasn't sneaking off! I was gone for all of twenty minutes when your military hauled me off to talk to Sergeant Paranoid."
She shrugged. "Whatever you say. What'd you do to her?"
"I told her that if she wanted to tell me off for leaving Jeannie, she could get her own kid and see how difficult that is."
"Oh," Barbie gulped, looking worried. "I'll have to go find her. Look, I'm going to leave you three to your business. Sergeant Markham is going on duty. Try not to permanently traumatize him." She smiled, but seemed distracted, practically running from the hangar area.
"What was that all about?" John mumbled, yawning. He'd clearly had more sleep than Rodney, but he still looked gaunt and tired - too pale for someone who had been living in Nevada.
"Like I have any idea. C'mon, we can grab you some dinner before you head out."
"You mean, before we head out," John smirked.
DELETED SCENE: One version of John angsting about his father being dead, changed because this segment is from John's POV while the final scene is from Rodney's.
"He left me," John whispered. Because after his mother passed, dad had promised. He'd said that he never left a man behind and that included John. But now he was gone and John had ended up alone and this numb icy feeling spread through his limbs, quietly encircling his heart in the same way the chill of the alien sea had just the night before. It felt as though he'd been preparing for this his entire life. His genes, this project, this strange kid with his ability to snap his fingers and figure out the world, maybe this, not all of the potential his father had always claimed to see in him, was his true destiny. All those moves, walking alone under the desert sky, hiking through the hills of West Virginia, learning a thousand ways how to survive from his dad, the way he felt more at home already in this city that seemed to whispers haunting unintelligible lullabies, it all served some purpose. It had to. This world and all its stained-glass beauty had to be great because there was no other option but to do justice to the ashes of the world that was. Seven billion dead, in a heartbeat.
"He didn't leave you," Rodney replied. "They left him." It wasn't an auspicious beginning, breaking his father's first cardinal rule. But then Rodney gave him a shy crooked smile, burying himself in his laptop once again, and John forced all his muscles to tense, to hold their breath and release all this empty musing. They had a job to do now, a goal.
DELETED SCENE: The original scene in the Gateship Bay, when it was both John and Rodney there with Ford
"Yes, you're sorry; he's sorry; we're all sorry. Now could we please get on, either back to our camp or to the cool thing I believe we were promised?"
John laughed.
"What?"
"Can you say sorry again? It just sounds so--"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Rodney glowered, before turning to Ford. "Well? What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? Lead on."
And Ford did, despite the fact that he was being ordered around by a fourteen-year-old. "All right, you guys like planes?"
John perked up at that, following Ford eagerly down the corridor to a large door at the end of it
"Yes, he's practically salivating over them," Rodney answered for him.
"Good, then you guys are going tolove this."
John bit his lip in anticipation, imagining x-wings or the Enterprise, or maybe even a living ship, like Moya. But the door opened to reveal ... bread boxes.
"What the hell is that?!" Rodney exclaimed. "How does that even fly? I've seen more aerodynamic rocks."
Ford shrugged. "It's a gateship. They're shaped like that so they fit through the gate."
John supposed that made a little bit of sense, if you were trying to design the space faring equivalent of a minivan. Still, there wasn't any reason you could narrow the thing out at the tips, make it more like the Naboo fighter jets from Star Wars.
"They fly more like helicopters than planes anyway."
Rodney snapped his fingers. "Zero point energy! One of the byproducts of the theory is the ability to hover the way UFOs are said to. And if what I heard the blond talking about is correct, whoever built this city has mastered that kind of power generation."
"Whatever you say, kid," Ford replied. "Oh, did I tell you these things can like, go invisible?"
"Okay, so maybe they're not completely retarded, then," Rodney offered. "Can we see?"
"Um, yeah, let me find the remote. You guys can come inside, if you want. Can't take you anywhere without someone with the gene, though."
Rodney didn't seem to care, as he was already rushing toward one of the open hatches, mouth going a mile a minute asking questions about how it worked and what the control interface was like and what sort of velocities it could achieve. Ford trailed behind him, countering Rodney's babble with a litany of "please don't touch that" and "I don't know, you'd have to ask Dr. Z" and "no, seriously, you really shouldn't touch that."
John approached slower, feeling the now familiar tickle at the back of his mind. It would have looked like a string of golden light, maybe a hand beckoning, if it had looked like anything at all. It was another sense, one just out of reach, and it was telling him go, come forward, this is where you belong. It was more than a little frightening, and if Rodney hadn't already been in there rambling about the gateship's many wonders, John might have turned and ran the other way. But he couldn't think beyond the cloud of near euphoria tickling his awareness. He barely even noticed Rodney's ramble stutter to a close as he moved through the ship, not noticing any of the added Earth gear stored in its cargo components. He slid into the pilot's seat despite a very vehement, "don't touch that" from Ford. And the second his hands brushed the two small control sticks, the whole thing lit up, display after display spreading itself out before him.
"You have the gene," Ford said, but John wasn't listening, focusing instead on making the ship hover.
"Oh, my god!" Rodney screeched. "You're not even old enough to drive a car! Put us back down! Down, on the ground! John, are you trying to--"
John tuned him out. This was it. This was why he'd been saved. Not by some bureaucratic mix up somewhere, but by some other force in the universe that wanted people to live out their true purposes. That was the only explanation for how right this felt.
"I have to agree with your friend, kid. Put us down."
John nodded, but he'd barely touched the gateship back down on the ground when there it was, flowing through the narrow crack in the door - the terrifying black mist.
"Okay, seriously, what's up with the fog?" Rodney asked, looking expectantly at Ford.
"I don't know, but it's coming right at us," Ford replied, already hitting his radio. "Colonel Sumner, we have a situation in the Gateship Bay.... A kind of black mist. Like a shadow, Sir."
"It's still coming toward us!" Rodney shouted.
"Bring up the shield," Ford ordered.
John did his best to comply, thinking about what the Enterprise would do against a Klingon battle cruiser, and sure enough, a field sparkled to life before them. Unfortunately, this only made the mist come quicker, enveloping them like the sudden darkness of a solar eclipse. The windshield in front of them flashed, showing rapidly depleting power reserves, and a map that showed the darkness growing ever larger.
"Shut it down! Shut it down!" Rodney shouted.
Ford protested, "No, don't. That shield's the only thing standing between us and that thing out there! I've called for backup."
"What are they going to do, shoot at the big bad fog?" Rodney snapped. "It's feeding off the power. Shut it down."
John didn't need to be told twice. He just pulled his hands back from the controls and watch all the light flick off with a disquieting stillness at the back of his mind. It took only seconds for the darkness to recede.
"Told you," Rodney preened.
"Good for you. Now how do we stop it?" Ford asked, looking stunned.
"How in the hell should I know?" Rodney spluttered. "They don't exactly teach mysterious black fog fighting techniques at University."