Radiance

“The angels first appeared that night. Seraphim, you understand? Not frilly angels with blousy pink wings and haloes like wedding rings. These ones had wheels full of eyes and voices like the noise of the deep. We poor fools! We thought it was equipment, feedback. All that expensive sound shit nobody needs but Severin just insisted on. Mariana was the only one who could make those machines heel, but even she was new to it; she’d never gotten to work with anything that high-end before. We thought the whining, the thrumming, that horrible, horrible vibrating, was Mariana’s problem. Ignore it, ignore it, just go to sleep.” He covered his face with his hands for a moment, but snapped up again, his mask barely concealing the livid excitement in his quivering body. “Observe the flight path of the second knife: I’ve sunk it in the right shoulder, perfectly parallel to the first—what artistry! What skill!

“But the angels came again in the morning. It wasn’t feedback. The voices of serap

him are the colour of need. When their words entered me, I felt a cancer in my heart, and, at the same time, the blossoming of my body into beauty. Thrumming. Voices. Quiet at first, like when you’re in a room full of people and everyone is talking constantly but you can’t make out the words, just an ocean of sound. A tide, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. The third knife, ladies and gentleman, a blow to the left hip! Oh, that one hurt her, you can tell! Blood running down the inside of her beautiful thigh. See it drip onto the stage.

“On the fourth day, they woke us up in the middle of the night. 2:14 a.m., by my watch. Mariana singing. Singing, screaming. Screaming, singing. She was so beautiful; the look on her face when she heard the angels singing in her voice. How I loved her! It wouldn’t stop. No one could sleep. But I loved it. I ran through the ocean surf trying to get closer—if I could only get closer! If I could get closer, I could see their faces, their eyes and their wheels. You can hear it on some of the footage, whispering in the trees. That’s all an Edison mic can hear of God. They wanted us to leave, but Severin wouldn’t listen. I loved her, too, for that. Something she couldn’t explain was happening right in front of her. Something real. Something outside herself. I don’t have a drug in my cabinet to compete with that. But she and I were the only ones talking about it. And she was convinced, convinced it was all due to the callowhales somehow, because she couldn’t see the seraphim like I could. She couldn’t understand their songs, their songs like rainbows and arrows and dying. She would just stare out to sea at those fish, those big, stupid islands like desiccated brains floating in blood. She stared. Just stared. Like she had been paused. Ah-ha! The fourth knife, as true as the rest, into the right hip like butter, my friends! Go on, gasp! Clutch your pearls! See the rictus of pain on her face—as real as you and I! Doesn’t she wear her blood pretty—like jewellery, those trickles, like strands of rubies. Nothing finer!

“We fought, the night before she and Erasmo went out on their own. Mariana was hurt by then, and I wanted to call White Peony Station for transport. I wanted to take care of my Mari. But, even more, I wanted them all to go, just go, so I could have the voices to myself. So I could finally listen, really hear them, in the quiet. None of them could shut up. They couldn’t open up to the sound. The voices were deafening, by then—you just couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Their verbs tasted like life. The seraphim were touching us, touching me. They talked all the time, like carnival barkers advertising the known universe. Severin and I fought often—we’d been lovers, on Saturn, and you’ll treat someone you’ve fucked far worse than someone you haven’t. She screeched at me: I have to know, I have to know. Take Mari and go if you want; I don’t need you. I hit her—she hit me back. It went like that with us, sometimes. But I pushed her. I pushed her and she fell.

You could never understand. Leave me alone with the wheels and the eyes and the heavens and your pitiful questions. Just keep your eye on the fifth knife—piercing the heart, as true and sharp as love. Stop the wheel, if you please. Get her down, now—mind the sequins. A star of knives—perfect, if I do say so myself. Now, a wave of my hand, of my wand, of the curtain of light—and abracadabra! She’s perfectly well! Turn around and show the audience, honey; show them you don’t have a scratch. She’s fine. She’s fine. See? She’s fine.”

Then the Mad King of Pluto bent his face to the ruined floor of his broken house and wept as though he would never again see the sun.

“Calliope the Carefree Callowhale” PSA

PROPERTY OF THE BBC LUNA, RKO, AND CAPRICORN STUDIOS

FIRST AIRDATE: 28 FEBRUARY, 1930

VOICE-OVER: VIOLET EL-HASHEM AND ALAIN MBENGUE

[CALLIOPE THE CAREFREE CALLOWHALE dances onscreen. She is a joyful, animated character, all cheerful lines and unthreatening colours: a stylized whale, halfway between orca and beluga with a little happy humpback thrown in. Her palette is turquoise, azure, and navy blue, with big cerulean eyes framed by long lashes and purple eye shadow. The BBC shelled out heavily to Edison Corp. for the colour animation.

CALLIOPE bounces on her clownish tail in a field of sunflowers and magenta begonias. A fountain of healthy, nourishing callowmilk spurts continually from her blowhole.]

CALLIOPE

HI, KIDS! I’m Calliope the Carefree Callowhale! I’m here to remind all you growing boys and girls to DRINK YOUR MILK!

[MARVIN THE MONGOOSE (courtesy Capricorn Studios) marches in from the left-hand side of the frame. He wears a jaunty cap.]

CALLIOPE

Hello, Marvin! What have you been up to?

MARVIN

Nothing much, Callie! Only defeating the dastardly Crikey the Cobra with my lightning-quick fists! And I couldn’t have done it without a tall glass of callowmilk for breakfast! It’s got everything I need to keep me strong!

CALLIOPE

Righty-ho! Now, I’ve heard that some parents won’t let their kids have callowmilk. They think I’m full of toxins and mutated protein strands. That hurts my feelings! [Giant tears with rainbows reflecting in their surfaces fall from her eyes.] Those meanie mumsies say I make babies come out all funny-looking! But I’m a good whale. I just want everyone to be happy and healthy! [She continues to weep. The sunflowers and begonias wilt.]

MARVIN

But Calliope, if kids don’t drink their callowmilk, how will they ever have amazing adventures in space, like me?

CALLIOPE

That’s just it, Marvin! They’ll miss out on all the fun! I hate seeing children not having fun with their friends, don’t you?

MARVIN

Sure do!

CALLIOPE

That’s why I’m asking all of you to join my club, Calliope’s Kids! Just get your mum and dad to send the BBC a self-addressed stamped envelope and proof of a year’s worth of callowmilk purchases and, and I’ll send you a badge, colouring book, super-secret Venusian decoder ring, and this spiffy hat that will let everyone know that YOU’RE one of Calliope’s Kids, my very special friends! [The flowers spring back to life. Calliope does a somersault in the air and lands in a blue ocean. Marvin salutes her from a raft. He is wearing a pirate hat, an eye patch, and a Calliope’s Kids badge.]