At that moment Mitch flickers into visibility at the top of the dome. Flicker is the right word, different parts of his body jitter between being transparent and opaque, as if he is wobbling in and out of hyperspace. He is on his knees, almost in a foetal position. Multiple cross-sections move across his body like MRI scans. Mitch is apparently moaning or screaming but as different portions of his larynx and tongue disappear and reappear the sound is broken up with short, sharp edits of silence. There are curious discharges of blue light around his fingertips and the corners of his eyes.
