The Great Glowing Coils of the Universe (38 page)

ERIKA 2:
I am sorry to interrupt your debate, Cecil. Good-bye.

CECIL:
Good-bye, Erika.

ERIKA 2:
And Cecil . . .

CECIL:
Yes?

ERIKA 2:
I am afraid. . . .

CECIL:
Yes? Go on.

ERIKA 2:
No. That's it. Just: I am afraid. Good-bye, okay?

CECIL:
Okay. This debate has certainly taken an odd turn listeners, but also none of this happened and we will comment no further.

One last caller. You're on the air.

STEVE:
Hi, this is Steve Carlsberg. I have a question for Hiram. Hiram—

CECIL:
NO STEVE. NO. STEVE CARLSBERG, WE ARE OUT OF TIME FOR QUESTIONS. GOOD-BYE.

Candidates, let's get to closing statements. Faceless Old Woman.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
My fellow Night Valeans, my opponent talks about human children, but he has never been a human child. I have. It has been centuries, but I have. He claims he wants to improve fitness and health in our schools, but he cannot even regulate his own body temperature. I can. I can also regulate yours. He says he cares about you, but I am the only candidate who is actually in your home at this very moment, writing down the grim specifics of your eventual death on the backside of one section of drywall. You'll see it someday when getting some pipes or wiring fixed, and you'll be impressed. Not impressed. Terrified. This is a promise I make to you. My other opponent is now an angel, and cannot legally be thought about. So vote for me, the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. I'm touching your neck right now. You smell nice.

CECIL:
Thank you. Hiram?

HIRAM-GOLD:
Night Vale . . . sure, there is a faceless old woman secretly living in your home, and I respect that. She is vaguely familiar and unsettlingly comfortable, and I admire that. But isn't it time we stopped this politics as usual? Isn't it time we got the government out of our homes? There once was a day when we all needed government agents snooping around in our books and dishes. That was a different time. Should the government really be able to touch our necks and be aware that we smell nice? I say no. I'm literally a five-headed dragon. I don't know anything about being a human. I do things like breathe fire, fly, regenerate limbs, and molt. I don't care anything about your personal lives. They're your choice. I wouldn't even know how to interfere.

HIRAM-GREEN:
YOU ARE INFERIOR AND EMOTIONALLY CONFUSING ANIMALS.

HIRAM-GOLD:
So vote for me, Hiram McDaniels. I'm literally a five-headed dragon with no regard for human life . . . choices. Human life choices.

CECIL:
Thank you both. I'm sorry for the technical difficulties. I don't know if you can hear that, but there is a very soft humming sound coming from the mics or the soundboard or something.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I don't hear it, Cecil.

HIRAM-GOLD:
I don't hear a thing.

CECIL:
I remember this sound from before. We'll have an engineer come take a look at it. In the meantime, ladies and gentleman and all in between, the deer have gotten quite out of hand. One of the Sales staff, thank you, Roberta, just handed me a note that says there are dozens of deer surrounding this station and trying to peer into the windows.

HIRAM-GOLD:
That's your humming sound right there then. I could go outside and set fire to them. That would be a very mayoral solution.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
That's a fool's errand, Hiram. Did you never play Deer-Duck-Dragon? Dragon beats duck, but deer beats dragon.

HIRAM-GOLD:
So we need a duck?

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
No! Deer beats duck too. Deer beats everything. It's a terrible game.

CECIL:
She's right, Hiram, but it's not the deer. The humming is something worse. Listeners, I fear something much worse is lurking. So as we all hide from the deer, hide from the hum, and hide from it all, I take you now . . . to the weather.

WEATHER: “Promise to the Moon” by Jason Webley

CECIL:
Listeners, the quiet humming is not the deer, but a swirling, black vortex just outside our studio door. In fact the deer have backed away from the station. I have seen this vortex before, listeners, and I am afraid to approach it, but Hiram went to look inside.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Hey, I found this guy in the vortex.

KEVIN:
Hello.

CECIL:
Who is this man? Not man. Who is this . . . creature? Why is he covered in blood? Where are his eyes?

KEVIN:
Hi, I'm Kevin.

CECIL:
You stay away!

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Hello, Kevin. That's Cecil. Wow, you guys look almost just alike.

KEVIN:
Oh, hello, Cecil. Nice to meet you. And yes, I completely see the resemblance. It's mostly in the eyes, I think. I met Hiram and now Cecil. Who are you?

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I am the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. Well, most homes. Not yours. I've never seen you before.

KEVIN:
Faceless? You're not faceless. You have a beautiful face. A memorable face. I don't know if I've ever seen such deep hazel eyes or proud lips or archaic jaw.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I do not have a face, Kevin. I have never had a face.

KEVIN:
You do have a face, and it's unlike any other face in history.

CECIL:
Why are you here? Explain to me what you are doing here.

KEVIN:
Oh, sure! Well, I was sitting in my own radio studio in my own town and I heard that humming again. I saw a spiraling white vortex, and rushed into it. It has been months since I have seen it, and I once met a man there who looked like me, with my eyes and my smile. I think he was you, Cecil. I know that I am Kevin. I know I have been in this strange studio before, with its old-timey microphones and acoustic gray-foam walls. A place like this is usually covered in clumps of hair and reddish-brown handprints streaking down the only remaining unshattered window. But they do things differently here in . . . Where is this?

HIRAM-GOLD:
Night Vale.

KEVIN:
Oh my! So this is Night Vale. How delightful. Hello out there, Night Vale listeners. This is Kevin from Desert Bluffs. You know, I was just telling my intern, Vanessa. I was telling Vanessa just today how much I have wanted to come here. I'm always telling her that, as a matter of fact. I just never get around to actually visiting. Work and family, and you get so busy, it's hard to find the time. And so here I am. I wish Vanessa were here. She would love Night Vale. You guys have such . . . you know? We always talk about coming here, and here I am without her. Oh, I wish you could have met Vanessa. Always a joke to start the day. She had one about limestone this morning. I don't remember it but it was a hit. Always a laugh. Always a smile. A big smile where she'd show me all these perfect teeth and I would just imagine the rest of her perfect skull. Funny how the skull is so visible in your mouth. Weird. Who thinks about that stuff? I don't know. Weird, right?

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Maybe next time you come you could bring her.

KEVIN:
Oh gosh, I wish, but no.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
No?

KEVIN:
Oh, dear, I'm sorry, no. Vanessa died many years ago. We're all still very upset about it. Very upset about what we saw. Some of us never came back to work again. Some of us never left our houses again. Most of us never woke up again. I don't like to talk about it much.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I'm sorry.

KEVIN:
Night Vale, I don't know why I was brought here, but I am starting to see we are connected, and by more than just a two-lane highway. We are connected much more deeply, Night Vale. And if this is true, I imagine your town too has been seeing a rise in the deer population this evening. It is a blessed event, of course, as these deer have been so very helpful to all of us in Desert Bluffs. Doing all our math problems . . . Gaining us extra work hours by time traveling us back and forth . . . So productive and adorable, those deer! But of course there is sometimes too much of a good thing.

Strexcorp, our parent company—and I believe yours too now, Cecil—is issuing a recall on all these time traveling deer. They tried to implement the project slowly, but it got a little carried away. If you have lost loved ones or are no longer in your original timeline or universe, then we apologize. Please contact Strexcorp attorney Luisa Reyes, as she is preparing a class action lawsuit against Strexcorp. We've already budgeted for the remuneration for community harm, so don't you worry about us. We're fine.

We've sent helicopters to dispatch the deer. If you have earplugs, you may want to put them in now, or simply turn up some loud music to drown out the machines and screams for the next hour or so.

I can hear the fading hum of the vortex that fortuitously connects our two radio studios, Night Vale. Cecil, I will see you again, I am certain. I can't wait to tell Vanessa what a great town this was. I must go.

It was nice to meet you two.

[
Exits
]

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
He saw that I had a face. I have never seen my face. What do I look like Hiram? Am I beautiful?

HIRAM-GOLD:
You are beautiful when you do beautiful things. Do you do beautiful things?

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I think that I do.

HIRAM-GREEN:
THEN YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. IT IS A SIMPLE CALCULATION, YOU SMALL, DEFENSELESS SACK OF BONES AND MEAT.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Thank you, Hiram. You are beautiful too. Cecil, you are . . . distracted.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Cecil? You all right?

CECIL:
I . . .

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Cecil? It's going to be okay. Actually, that's a lie. In general, it's not going to be okay.

HIRAM-GOLD:
That man with missing eyes, bloodstained skin, and teeth like an abandoned cemetery was certainly terrifying, but he's gone now.

CECIL:
He was . . .

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Cecil. We all get frightened and freeze in the face of unbearable terror. I mean, only if we can see that face. Some faces are apparently there, but unseeable.

CECIL:
I . . . You are right. Thank you both.

Candidates, thank you also for coming on the show tonight. I think you both would make an excellent mayor. I look forward to casting a meaningless vote for one of you soon.

Listeners, thank you for listening to the show tonight. Remember that you may hear terrible machines and screams as corporate agents terminate the false deer. Their attempt to destroy our way of life by bringing us together as one has failed. We are free to remain ourselves and find our own connections—beautiful or grotesque. Either way, a beauty or grotesquery of our own choosing.

So relax tonight Night Vale. You are yourself. You are safe. Tonight is a good night. Tomorrow is unconfirmed. We will all find out together.

Thank you again, candidates, and listeners do not forget to cast your vote on election day. We do not know where votes will be cast, what day election day is, or if votes are even read. But it is your democratic duty.

Stay tuned next for a chasm of subjectivity and bravado between yourself and every other human being.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

PROVERB: Don't judge a book by its cover, by its leather cover, by its human skin–looking cover. Don't ever judge that book.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to the cast and crew of
Welcome to Night Vale:
Meg Bashwiner, Jon Bernstein, Marisa Blankier, Desiree Burch, Nathalie Candel, Emma Frankland, Kevin R. Free, Mark Gagliardi, Angelique Grandone, Marc Evan Jackson, Maureen Johnson, Kate Jones, Erica Livingston, Christopher Loar, Hal Lublin, Dylan Marron, Jasika Nicole, Lauren O'Niell, Flor De Liz Perez, Teresa Piscioneri, Jackson Publick, Molly Quinn, Retta, Symphony Sanders, Annie Savage, Lauren Sharpe, James Urbaniak, Bettina Warshaw, Wil Wheaton, Mara Wilson, and, of course, the voice of Night Vale himself, Cecil Baldwin.

Also and always: Jillian Sweeney; Kathy & Ron Fink; Ellen Flood; Leann Sweeney; Jack and Lydia Bashwiner; Anna, Sam, Levi, and Caleb Pow; Rob Wilson; Kate Leth; Jessica Hayworth; Holly and Jeffrey Rowland; Zack Parsons; Ashley Lierman; Russel Swensen; Glen David Gold; Marta Rainer; Andrew Morgan; Eleanor McGuinness; Paul Sloan; John Green; Hank Green; Patrick Rothfuss; Cory Doctorow; Andrew WK; John Darnielle; Dessa Darling; Aby Wolf; Jason Webley; Danny Schmidt; Carrie Elkin; Eliza Rickman; Mary Epworth; Will Twynham; Erin McKeown; Sxip Shirey; Gabriel Royal; The New York Neo-Futurists; Freesound.org; Mike Mushkin; Ben Acker and Ben Blacker of
The Thrilling Adventure Hour
; the Booksmith in San Francisco; Mark Flanagan and Largo at the Coronet; and, of course, the delightful Night Vale fans.

Our agent Jodi Reamer, our editor Amy Baker, and all the good people at HarperPerennial.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joseph Fink
created the
Welcome to Night Vale
and
Alice Isn't Dead
podcasts. He lives with his wife in New York.

Jeffrey Cranor
cowrites the
Welcome to Night Vale
podcast. He also cocreates theater and dance pieces with choreographer wife, Jillian Sweeney. They live in New York.

Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at
HC.com

ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS