Radio Man …... 7

One of the most frustrating thoughts early in my career was that there is always more to learn. No matter how much you study and research and observe, you can NEVER learn everything.

That's become my favorite thing about my job.

One day I looked out the lab window, which I don't do nearly enough... and there was a mountain. An honest-to-God mountain, right out in the sand wastes. Except there seemed to be a floodplain there now. There was some kind of blinking red light at the top. Something like that was too big to ignore, so I grabbed an armload of equipment and jumped in the car.

The first thing I noticed was that I never got any closer to the mountain, no matter how far I drove. At first I passed this perception off as excitement and normal Night Vale time distortion. But then I started keeping track, and the mountain was actually maintaining its distance from me.

The second thing I noticed was the vast army that suddenly appeared in front of me.

I swerved off the road and nearly spun around to race back and warn the town when the static hit just right on the radio and a snatch of a song suddenly blared out, perfect and clear, before dissolving into white noise again. I slammed on the brakes.

The dust and sand billowed out, and drifted right through the army. They kept coming, and all I could do was sit there and watch them march around me... and through me, which was strange.

'Here's something odd,' Cecil had said when he discovered the floating cat in the men's room.

And all it was all I could do not to collapse in a fit of (slightly deranged) laughter over the steering wheel right there in the middle of the army, because yet again, it was Night Vale presenting something horrifying that was actually harmless.

Well, harmless to me. To my car. Apparently not harmless to the other intangible army marching from the other direction. It actually got quite bloody. It may be a bit morbid, but I got out to study the phenomenon going on around me. The soldiers hacked each other to bits. They were aware of me, but couldn't touch me. I don't think they saw me as clearly as I saw them, because while some of them were careful to avoid me (or that one who was trying his hardest to chop of my head), many of them just walked right through me. I mainly made notes, because they didn't show up in photos (nor did the mountain, as I suspected). But I managed to communicate with one especially perceptive warrior.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

The man looked at me, his face broad and foreign, though I couldn't quite place the nationality. In my own voice, he said, "I'm a mirage, obviously." Then he rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

Apparently my own subconscious mind is especially adept at making me feel like an idiot.

The mirage army began to dissipate one by one, until it was just the man I had spoken to, and the rather hazy mountain and floodplain in the background.

"You cannot trust your senses," said the man, still in my own voice.

I felt strange talking to... a mirage who spoke with my voice, so I just stared until he vanished.

The mirage reappeared twice in the rest of the week, and two to five times in each subsequent week. I made a note of time, duration, and different details I noticed.

"Did you see the mirage today?" I asked John Peters (you know, the farmer – damn it Cecil, that's not necessary every time) in the checkout line at the Ralph's.

"What?" He looked at me blankly. Not the way he would if I were talking about something I shouldn't be, or something that had been forcibly reeducated out of him (and I've grown to recognize the difference), but with a genuine lack of understanding. When I haltingly explained, he seemed upset – no, concerned. Concerned, because his imaginary corn harvest was due to yield a bumper crop this year, and a whole mirage army could go through his imaginary corn like a swarm of porcelain termites through a steel beam. I didn't quite get the metaphor, but I understood his meaning.

This is the kind of thing I can't mention to my superiors back home. There is so much of that these days. And they want answers, always answers, and they just have no idea what I'm in the middle of here.

So my team and I found ourselves back at the house that doesn't exist in the Desert Creek housing development.

They're... kind of a weird bunch. This batch of them. ...Well, I'll be honest, all of them have been. Before they... left or died or disappeared or... whatever. Three of them met me at the house (the fourth wouldn't listen to me when I told her last week not to acknowledge the Shape in Mission Grove Park). They were all from Night Vale Community College's science department. That made me hopeful that they would survive, or at least not run away screaming. Unfortunately, they are here interning with me. I thought it was just the radio station interns that had such a poor survival rate, but Cecil says that's the nature of any internship here. Or just... life, for that matter.

Therese is graying (her whole body, not just her hair), and eternally cheerful. Manuel is young and naïve and sometimes sweats blue liquid when under extreme stress. And Iche is a small bright red desert lizard who can float up to five feet in the air. I honestly had my doubts about her usefulness in the lab, but she's proven herself to have sound judgment.

We stood there staring at the house that didn't exist.

"Okay, we're definitely gonna do it today!" Manuel couldn't stop grinning.

"Excuse me, WHO is going to do it?"

"It would have to be our fearless leader," replied Therese. "Go ahead, sir."

"I can't believe you're in on this," I grumbled. They only call me 'sir' when they want something they know I'm not likely to give them.

"I'm sure Manuel will go if you're afraid of what you might find," Therese shot back.

"Wait, I never said I'd go!"

Iche flicked her tail and waved her front claws.

"Not for five dollars. Not ten. I'm not doing it. NONE of us are. We're here to take readings and gather data, not to pull dangerous pranks."

Iche made a small rattling noise.

"He WOULD have less gray hair if he had some fun sometimes," Therese agreed.

I tried to smooth my hair down to cover the gray. "That is NOT something that needs to be discussed. I'm not doing it, and neither are any of you. And frankly, I... I won't stand for this breach of scientific integrity. I need you to treat this with the gravity it deserves. Think of your careers as scientists. Think of your lives! This could be extremely dangerous! I don't want to hear any more about it."

Movement caught my eye, and suddenly there was a young woman coming out of the house, talking on her cell phone. Of course we ran over to her, because how often do random women run out of houses that don't exist? She looked panicked – no, not panicked, concerned. I had to blink a few times to tell the difference. She didn't respond to any of us, and then... she ran right through us. As if we weren't there.

Manuel screamed and Therese covered her mouth. Iche looked interested. What I noticed that the faint sound coming from her phone was Cecil's voice. And sure enough, when I whipped out my phone and called the first number in my contacts list, it was busy.

Iche chirred softly, eyeing me.

"Well who else am I supposed to call? She's talking to him, you heard it too!"

"I heard it," Manuel said loyally.

"Thank you!"

"Maybe you should try again later."

"I think I will. In the meantime, let's get out of here. Nobody's knocking on any doors."

I managed to reach Cecil a few minutes later, and described the series of events to him.

"...And you didn't knock on the door?"

"What? No, of course not! Why would I? It goes completely against my survival instinct!"

"Sure, it's just... Five dollars is a taco lunch at Jerry's Tacos."

"Cecil, I won't sell out my scientific integrity for a cheap lunch."

"Cheap? Whatever, rich guy."

"That's not – Cecil, I don't want to end up in another dimension, or release some ancient horror, or unmake existence. Or whatever it would end up doing. I'm just not comfortable with that. If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't let my lab team do it either. ...Not that they really wanted to. And I do NOT want you or one of your interns going anywhere near the house either."

The line was quiet for a moment.

"Cecil. Don't."

"...That was Dana you saw," he said quietly. "Dana. She's... she's out there somewhere, Carlos. That house has something to do with where she is."

We were both silent, collecting our thoughts.

"...Cecil, I'll try to investigate this safely. I'll do what I can to help her. But PLEASE don't go near that house."

"I care about her, Carlos. She's... she's a good friend."

"I understand. And I give you my word that I'll try to help her. But I care about YOU, and I need you to promise not to do anything that could get you hurt, including going to the house that doesn't exist."

"I... I have to go, Carlos, the prerecorded segment is ending."

"Promise me, Cecil."

"...I promise. For now."

"No."

"Okay, okay, I promise!"

"Good. I promise I'll help. See you later."

I continued to study the intermittent mirages, which after listening to Cecil's full broadcast again I decided are probably connected to wherever Dana is. Scientifically impossible, but obviously real in some way anyway. My notes are scattered, but I know that a door in the Dog Park connects to the House that Doesn't Exist (does this have a connection to other things that 'don't exist' such as angels? Possible). And John Peters – yes, the farmer – is somehow involved. I haven't seen him lately, so I can only assume he is still in the house. Could his imaginary corn be involved? Sometimes I feel like this is a job for a fantasy author, or an expert in ancient religions, more than a scientist. Or Cecil.

I invited him to the lab one evening to show him what I'd found and deduced, to see what he thought of it all. He brought over a bag of Jerry's Taco's, wrapped up and still hot, and I realized I hadn't eaten all day.

"You've been working hard," Cecil observed, watching me devour the tacos over piles of papers.

"Mmph." After that comment he made to the whole town about my chewing, I've been trying to make it quieter. It's not like I didn't know before. My dad used to tell me the same thing, only he'd suddenly slam his hand down on the table and shout that we were INSIDE, dammit, and couldn't I learn some manners, and what was wrong with me!?

Yeah.

Funny how little things like that can come back and hit you in the face out of nowhere after so long.

God, I tried so hard. I stopped eating crunchy foods, as much as I could. I worked on it. I got better. I guess I just forgot, living alone for so long.

Cecil's not like that, though. He talks about it like he'd talk about... I don't know, my teeth or the gray in my hair. I know he's not malicious, and it's not a relationship-breaking flaw that I need to destroy if I ever want any hope of being liked in this world. I know that.

It's just like when he would call me perfect and beautiful on the radio (which I finally convinced him to stop – mostly). It's something... that I have to accept. It's not a bad thing.

Okay, enough of my neuroses.

So when we were finished eating (and I didn't realize until we were done that I'd eaten probably 75% of the food – great, Carlos, way to be perfect) we ended up talking about interns. He told me how he was afraid to get to know his interns anymore, and he was SO afraid for Dana, because he'd grown attached to her. I told him after the third lab team vanished into the desert, I had been trying to do the same thing. But... but I couldn't. And it hurt every time, and I was trying SO hard to keep my current team safe. And we didn't even talk about mirages or mountains or John Peters.

"Thanks for coming over. And... for the tacos. Sorry I... ate them all," I said as I walked Cecil to the door. I think he would have liked to stay. If he had asked, I think I would have said yes. But he didn't, and neither did I.

He smiled and rubbed my arm lightly. "I brought them for you. I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself!"

"I know. I just get so caught up in my work..."

"I know." His eyes were a clear blue-green today, and they sparkled just then. "But there are more important things than science."

"Like what?" I laughed a little. He's just so easy to relax with.

"Like you." He suddenly leaned in and kissed me right between the eyes, and I felt that magnetic pull that I always felt around him.

"Cecil... Would you come by Sunday after your show?" I said impulsively. "I'd... I'd like to cook you dinner."

Cecil stilled, and turned back to me. "Really?"

"Yes. There... there ARE more important things."

"Carlos, that sounds absolutely perfect!"

It took... a while. Longer than I meant for it to take. Things just kept coming up, and they needed my attention. But finally we set a date and I cleared my schedule. As I cooked, I listened to Cecil's show. He texted me about the mirage – which I remembered that I had forgotten to mention – and I shot back something about learning to put other things first. When he repeated my message on air, he sounded so pleased, even SMUG. Well. That's just Cecil, I'm discovering. He's more than just furry pants and a love-struck grin.

He's awfully cute, either way.

God, I'm worse than he is.

Dinner was ready when he got home. ...I mean my home. I mean... it's... well he's here a lot, actually. He comes over for all kinds of reasons. I go to his apartment too. It's nicer than mine. Anyway.

I made pan-fried potatoes and green chili stew, pork tenderloin, and jello with fruit in it (when the custard I attempted vanished suddenly). I wanted to make garlic bread too, but the gluten-free bread doesn't really take well to that. Not to mention everything at the Ralph's bakery section this week kept twitching. I decided it wasn't worth it.

"Ohhh, Carlos, that smells heavenly!" Cecil sighed as he came up behind me.

I turned and smiled and tried to think of something smart to say. Everything sounded trite in my head. But we sat down to eat, and managed to have a decent conversation eventually. Almost entirely devoid of science or Night Vale politics and gossip (he hates it when I call it gossip). It lasted until long after dark. And it was... nice, you know? Even though I forgot the Jello. That's okay, I think the fruit probably wasn't good. But Cecil was here, and honestly, I wouldn't wish for anything more. He seemed fairly content with the situation as well.

I think I'm going to make a point to put aside science more often. That incredible voice might be on the radio often enough, but it's nothing compared to being here, like this, together.

That... that sounds stupid.

I don't think I care.