25 March 93 Neil Gaiman 3208 W. Lake St. #419 Minneapolis MN 55416 Dear Neil— Long time no see, though I've been following your work with amazement. I'm living in Seattle now…how many years ago did we wander Pike Place Market in the World Fantasy Convention drizzle? Little did I know then that I'd be settling down in the coffee capital of America. This letter is being modemed to Eclipse in Forestville along with my first Miracleman script, a story I call “Oracles.” I'm hoping you and Cat like it as much as I do. When Cat and Dean told me that they wanted additional Miracleman material—and that you had agreed to allow another writer to bridge the gap between your Golden and Silver Ages—I was flattered and very, very excited. The character has so many possibilities— with you and Alan each staking claim to one of his major facets. I hope that I can touch on different ground, leaving each of your trilogies intact, while giving Miracleman fans still more to enjoy. I will be at both Pro-Con and Wonder-Con in Oakland, and I hope you are still going to attend. I would very much like to meet with you to hear your plans in detail, so I know where you need Miracleman and supporting cast to wind up in 19 E.M. If Don and/or Maggie are there, we could sit down and explain to them what we’re up to with two Miracleman series. I think the fans will see this as a very positive thing—more of a great character—as long as they don’t get worried that they’ll never get to feast on your Silver and Dark Age stories. I look forward to hearing from you. Please call me at Eclipse this weekend if you’d like, or leave a message with my roommate in Seattle. I hope you’re well, and I’ll see you soon. Sincerely, Fred Burke 2434 55th Ave. SW #3 Seattle, WA 98116-2259 (206) 932-8670
copyright 1993 Fred Burke
characters ™ Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman
Fred Burke Miracleman #23A—full-script for 26 pages “ORACLES” PAGE ONE Panel 1: Splash. We take up where The Golden Age left off—Carnival in the streets of London. In the foreground is Miracleman in his disguise from Miracleman #22— white short sleeve T-shirt, gold belt, tri-coloured baseball cap. He is squatting down to pick up a flyer which is beneath his red high-topped sneaker. The flyer is in the extreme foreground. Miracleman is impassive, as ever. Past him, we can see the sky over London at sunset, full of people floating, multi-coloured helium balloons on strings pulling them skyward. The "spaceman" from #22 can be seen in a crumpled heap by a flooded garbage container. There are flyers all over the ground. Caption: They float skyward, deserting the Earth, taking for a time the power of birds, of planes… Caption: …of supermen… Caption: …and I am left to walk the emptied streets of London, as the tenth year of miracles begins. Flyer/Title:
ORACLES PAST—PRESENT—FUTURE What change in direction does your life hold? Our magic crystal answers all your questions!
copyright 1993 Fred Burke
characters ™ Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman
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Page Two three panels in a column on the left, one large panel on the right Panel 1: Close on several children from Miracleman #22—not miraclebabies, but regular kids—who are now floating, happy Disneyland grins on their faces, clutching balloons and wearing anti-grav pins. Caption: I should feel their joy, I know—should share the revelry of their Carnival. But I do not. Panel 2: Close in on the spaceman, her crumpled form lying by a trashbin, a flyer beneath her head. Caption: The question I asked of the spaceman still haunts me: "Am I doing the right thing? Have I done right?" Panel 3: Closer still, to her face, spattered with vomit. She is almost comatose, but still babbling. Now we can read the flyer, the same as on Page One. Spaceman (sickly whisper): Questions…always questions…from future is dream… Caption: Her answer was incomprehensible. That shouldn't surprise me. We are beyond good and evil now—beyond right and wrong. Panel 4: Exterior shot of Olympus, in total. Strong vertical, filling right half of the page. See the last pages of Miracleman #16 for reference. Caption: No god sits high atop a throne of judgement, for I inhabit Olympus.
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Caption: I am this world's highest authority. Caption: I am Miracleman.
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PAGE THREE Panel 1: Large establishing shot. Three women—66 year old grandmother, 46 year old mother, and 16 year old daughter—sit in a small flat in Brixton. It is full of clutter, a sixty year storehouse of a gypsy's wanderings, with a large painting of the Annunciation on the wall behind the sofa. There is a round table with a paisley print tablecloth, and in the middle of it, on a golden stand, is a crystal ball, next to which sits one of the flyers. Our focus, however, is on the sofa, where the mother (in a housecoat, pince-nez on a cord round her neck) and grandmother (in her Sunday best) sit. The daughter, serene, is spinning cotton into yarn at a spinning wheel. The mother, bitter, wraps it around the grandmother's outstretched hands. The elder woman is sad. Grandmother: Not a single taker… You sure you put the flyers out, like I told you? Daughter: Tons of them. Everywhere. But it is Carnival, Grandmama. Fireworks and festivals… Mother: And spacemen. Don't forget them, darling. If you want your fortune told these days, you find some drooling young acid freak—not a card reader. Panel 2: Close-up of grandmother, who looks at the picture of the Annunciation, which is the central image. She still holds her hands out toward her daughter. Grandmother: Such a shame. There used to be a certain pride in our profession. People looked to the wisdom of the ages… Grandmother: …not to some drug-trance cosmonaut. Panel 3: Close in on the painting's face of Mary, delirious in the ray of light from God. Grandmother/Cap: "Ours was such a long and beautiful lineage—the speakers in tongues…the listeners at God's door… Grandmother/Cap: "…Men who beheld the burning bush…women who translated for spirits tapping out messages from the beyond." Panel 4: Close on the daughter, spinning intently, her face at the same angle as Mary's. Daughter: Someone will come. You'll see.
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Panel 5: Close on hands of the mother, wrapping yarn around the hands of the grandmother. Mother (OP): That will be a miracle, luv.
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Page Four one large panel on the left, three panels in a column on the right Panel 1: Full vertical panel filling left half of the page. As Miracleman rises, the crumpled flyer in his hands, Miraclewoman's legs drift down into the panel from above. These legs are the picture of elegance, one knee bent deliciously. Miracleman looks up at his lover, descending like an angel from heaven. Miraclewoman (from above): Huey's wondering if you liked the fireworks…He's still a little down about his children… Miracleman: Tell him the pyrotechnics were beautiful…he outdid himself, even by Firedrake standards… Panel 2: Never touching Earth, Miraclewoman flies gracefully around the standing figure of Miracleman, who gestures at the empty streets with the hand that does not hold the flyer. Miraclewoman: I take it you're not coming then? You are the guest of honour… Miracleman: I have the city to myself for a while. London. So many memories. Miraclewoman: But the days of mourning are over—it's Carnival now! Panel 3: Close-up of Miracleman, in his little cap, sadness and loss on his face. Miracleman: Please. That's for them—the humans. They need their happiness. I— Miracleman: —I need time to think. Miraclewoman (OP): I've even invited someone special for you… Panel 4: Close-up of Miraclewoman, her face a petulant pout. Miracleman (OP): Avril! Miraclewoman: Fine! Have it your way…but, you know, there are better disguises if you're serious about going incognito, Mike.
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Page Five Panel 1: Splash. Extremely powerful downshot. Miraclewoman flies straight up at us, her impassive face the extreme foreground. We follow the extreme perspective of her body back toward earth, where Miracleman stands, looking up with a face that says "what did I do now?", the crumpled flyer still in his hands. Four of the flyers swirl in the air around her. Miraclewoman: We'll save a slice of cake for you… Panel 2: Inset in lower right. Liz Moran, at the door to Olympus, with an invitation (engraved on a thin piece of steel). Liz also holds two copies of her book, Winter's Tale. She looks extremely uncertain, as a doorman, in outrageously ornate attire, opens the door for her. The doorman is in his early sixties, with silver hair and a mustache. He wears a hearing aid. Doorman: Ah—a woman with an invitation! Special elevator 23A to our left, ma'am… that'll take us straight to the diamond capstone, it will.
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Page Six a twelve panel page, like those at the beginning of "Carnival" in Miracleman #22. Panel 1: Miracleman's finger pushes one bell out of a row of doorbells. This one is labeled "Moerae." Bell: Moerae FX: BZZZZZZ Panel 2: The mother fortune-teller's face, as she peers through the crack left by the door opening only two inches. The door is latched with a chain. Mother: Oh! You're not here—for a reading… by some chance…? Panel 3: Reverse angle shot, as we see Miracleman through the same crack. with chain. He looks good-humoured for the first time in many issues. Miracleman: Then I have the right place? Mother (OP): Why—yes! Panel 4: Same as Panel 3, as he removes his cap. Miracleman: My name—is Michael. May I come in? Panel 5: Flustered, Mother lets Miracleman in, smoothing her housecoat. Mother: Of course! My name is Myra Moerae… Panel 6: The daughter stands behind the grandmother. All look happily expectant. Mother (from previous panel): …and this is my mother, Madame Moerae… Mother (from previous panel): …and my daughter Morgana. Panel 7: A cup of tea is poured in the foreground, as Miracleman sits uncomfortably at the table, his posture impeccable. Grandmother (from next panel): Not many people consulting the oracle these days…
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Panel 8: The grandmother, her figure extended into the previous panel to pour tea, looks bright-eyed at Miracleman. Grandmother: …What with miracles around every corner and all. Bad for business… Panel 9: Close-up of Miracleman, who lifts an eyebrow. Miracleman: Business? Panel 10: The mother, her hand extending into the next panel to touch the crystal ball. Mother: Oh, merely a turn of phrase. Our gifts are free—although a small donation… Panel 11: The crystal ball, the mother's and daughter's hands from panel 10 and 12 stroking it. A surprised Miracleman is reflected, as if through a fish eye lens. Panel 12: The daughter, her hand extending into the previous panel to touch the crystal. Daughter: Hush, mother! Michael has true need of our services!
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Page Seven Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—a motif we'll use several more times as a framing device. The rest of the page is a flashback. Panel 1: The crystal ball. In it, the Grandmother asks Miracleman a question, and he responds. Grandmother: Indeed he does. The recent days of sorrow—and today's Carnival—I feel they weigh upon you most heavily, don't they…? Miracleman: I have…many memories. Panel 2: This is really a montage of images, not a single panel, but I want it to have the impact of a full splash. Miracleman #15 is our source material here— "Nemesis" from Olympus. Against a background of rubble, corpses, and flames, we see Kid Miracleman, in a white dress shirt, tie, and vest, threading people onto a cable with a sharp steel stake for a needle. He has already shoved it through a young boy's heart, and a woman's head, and now he holds a baby aloft in one hand, a gleam in his eye that would do Tony Perkins proud, as he aims the stake delicately at the babe. Also in this montage is a perfect knock-off—in your own style, Caribé—of the panel in which Johnny says: Johnny: I…I did it again, didn't I? Johnny: He got out. Bad Johnny got out. Also in this montage is the armless Aza Chorn, as he falls. And lastly in this montage is Kid Miracleman, in costume, with the stone in his brain and the girder through his chest. Kid Miracleman: AAAAAGH! Caption: "You lost someone dear to you, Michael?" Caption: "You could say that… yes."
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Page Eight three panels (perhaps round) inset into a full splash Inset Panel 1: The grandmother looks deeply into the crystal, which is full of screaming ghost faces, which leave the crystal to form the background of the large splash panel, leading us there with flow of image and balloons. Miracleman is also here in this panel, although his balloon will lead us to the splash. Grandmother: I'm sorry. So many died…so many. The rush of voices from the spirit world—far more than a medium of my meagre talents can sort out. If you wish to speak to one of the adversary's slaughter, some dead relative, well— Panel 2: This is the SPLASH. In it we see Mors, Gargunza, and the Warhols in the world of the dead. See Miracleman #16 and #19 for reference. Mors is adjusting a round, plastic bubble helmet covering Gargunza's head, which is connected to a collar device with a speaker. The object is to prevent Gargunza from stringing together even two syllables in a row. There are eighteen Warhols, near a pyramid of eighteen large Campbell Soup cans, each big enough to fit a small floating baby inside. Three of the Warhols speaks together. Miracleman (from previous panel) No. The dead speak too much as it is. That isn't why I came. Gargunza (electric, from speaker): Is zzt this zzt real zzt lee zzt nes zzt zuh zzt sare zzt ee? Mors: Dr. Gargunza— Gargunza: Ee zzt meel zzt , plees… Mors: Emil…you've responded wonderfully to our treatment—this time. But in the past, when we've tried to rehabilitate you, you have always tried to escape. We have…freed you…of your more dangerous memories… Gargunza: But zzt yure zzt not zzt take zzt ing zzt chans zzt zes. zzt I zzt un zzt der zzt stand… Warhol 6: Such an honour, don't you think? To do an installation for the Miracles? Warhol 2:
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But do they really care about us—or do they just know we're friends of the mad doctor…? Warhol 8: I'm Emil's friend—not you. Inset Panel 3: Bottom of the page. Mother pours more tea for Miracleman. Mother: Some more tea? Miracleman: Why, yes, thank you. Inset Panel 4: Bottom of the page. Mother turns to the crystal ball, as Miracleman takes a sip of his tea. She peers into the crystal dramatically. Mother; I sense, Michael, that more than just a sorrowful past has brought you here. Something is missing, something you are searching for… Mother: You mourn for more than just the dead…is that right?
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Page Nine Panel 1: Liz enters the grand hallway of Olympus, swept in by the kindly doorman. To one side, we can see the huge (big enough for twenty people) glasswalled elevator, and Liz walks toward it. This is the largest panel on the page. Caption: "Yes, I think so. Her name is Liz…" Liz: I—I'm not sure I should be doing this… Doorman Going to be quite the party. I hear Warhol's got some kind of wonderful surprise planned. Liz: Andy Warhol? But he's dead, isn't he? Doorman: No one's dead—least that's what they tell me. Panel 2: Close on the Doorman. We can clearly see his hearing aid as he winks elaborately. Behind him is the digital panel that controls the elevator. There are too many floors for anything but a keypad. There is, however, one special button—which has a diamond on it—and the Doorman's finger is poised to push it. Doorman: But then I'm only a servant—and my hearing's not so good these days. Panel 3: Liz, a troubled look on her face. Small panel. Liz: They have servants? Panel 4: Intense close-up of the Doorman. There is special sort of humble pride to this man. Small panel. Doorman: No—I…I have service. There's a difference. Panel 5: Through the rising elevator's glass walls, we can see one of the levels of Olympus: the Infi-Net, a solid black region in which is suspended a green matrix of intersecting lines—like an infinite grid drawn on a computer. Two Warpsmiths, Kana Blur and Phon Mooda, are making some kind of repairs on the Net, which is a sophisticated computer communications medium. Liz:
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I see. Doorman: Most people don't see, ma'am. But I do what I do, as I've always done it. Just in more…fanciful surroundings, for a different sort of royalty—that's all. Doorman: Wave to the Warpsmiths… Panel 6: Close on the book in Liz's hands, as she proffers it. See Golden Age for details. Doorman (OP): Guess they're mending the Infi-Net…buggy thing! So, are you one of the mothers then? The Miracle-mothers, I mean? Liz (OP): Yes, in a way I am—though it's different with me. I—I illustrated this book, that's why I got an invitation. Panel 7: Close-up of invitation, engraved in steel with beautiful calligraphy. (Will Cat letter?) Put it at an angle, and bleeding off the page. Invitation: MARK BUCKINGHAM is cordially invited to celebrate the New Year at OLYMPUS with the family and friends of Miracleman 8:00 p.m. Greenwich Daylight Time Come as you are—or wish to be. Invitation required
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Page Ten two tiers, the top one has four panels, the bottom one three, with the fourth panel a crystal ball shaped flash back to the fortune-tellers Panel 1: The Doorman smiles with a sparkle in his eye and a "those kids" shake of the head. It's too much for Liz, who looks very disturbed. Doorman: Those kids are something, aren't they? Liz: Yes—something… Panel 2: Her face is now pure terror, like a claustrophobic in the midst of a terrible attack. Close-up. Liz: Listen, I've changed my mind. I'd like to go back… Panel 3: But the doors have opened, and the Doorman is genially pushing an almost desperate Liz, still clutching her books, out the door to meet…God? Destiny? Or worse still, an ex-husband she really can't bear to see. Doorman: Here we are. Welcome to the stratosphere! Have a great time… Panel 4: This panel is shaped like the crystal ball, and in it we see Miracleman and the Grandmother. Miracleman: She… she left me. Almost ten years ago. Grandmother: Ah, the image in the crystal is coming clearer. There's someone else now, isn't there? Panel 5: When up comes Avril Lear (see "Skin Deep" in Golden Age), taking Liz's arm enthusiastically. Liz is obviously calmed by this, but still flustered. Behind them, we see the British Bulldog hitting on a young woman. Caption: "Yes… Avril. She's—she's perfect for me." Avril: Liz, you made it! I was so worried about you! Liz: Never pass up a good party, Margaret—that's what I always say… Liz:
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…Now where's the bar… Panel 6: Avril takes Liz's arm and guides her toward a punch bowl in the shape of the world, held by Atlas—all carved out of crystal. Huey Moon is stepping away with a flaming cup of punch. The punchbowl should be big, but not so large that a strong woman couldn't lift it empty. Avril: This way… Winter's Tale is a smash! Every library in the world has a copy—and it's all because of your illustrations. Liz: I think your story might have had something to do with it, too—but admit it, aren't you a little sorry that we didn't put our own names on Tale? Panel 7: Avril ladles out two cups of punch. The cups, too, are shaped like the Earth. Avril: Who needs the hassle? Gaiman and Buckingham can have all the credit, as far as I'm concerned, Ms. Sullivan.
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Page Eleven Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as page seven. The rest of the page continues the party. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, grandmother shakes her finger mournfully at Miracleman. Grandmother: Ah, beware perfection…particularly in matters of the heart. Panel 2: Liz takes a sip from the world. She has lied about her name, and the untruth is worrying her conscience. This panel may be inset into panel 3. Liz: There's—something I've been meaning to tell you, Margaret. I am Liz Sullivan, true enough…but… Panel 3: Largest panel on the page. Dramatic downshot, from above/behind Winter, as the floating miraclebabe descends, naked and aglitter. Liz looks up, surprised but happy. Avril doesn't like the timing, and it shows on her upturned face. Avril spills her drink. Winter: Mother! Panel 4: Winter descends to pat Liz's cheek, as Liz turns apologetically to Avril, trying to explain. Winter: I didn't realize you would be here! I'm happy to see you, Mother… Liz: I know…I should've told you…it's just… Panel 5: Winter hangs in the air next to her mother, talking directly into her face while gesturing toward Avril. Winter is smiling her omniscient little smile. Avril looks chastened, Liz utterly shocked. Winter: …and it's good that you and Avril are getting along so well! Liz: "Avril"? Avril: I guess there's something I should have told you, as well… Panel 6: Close-up of Liz, shellshocked, her mind making all the connections. This is no longer slack-jawed dumbfoundedness—more like the numb anger that comes when you realize you've been played for a fool.
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Panel 7: Dropping the books to the floor, Liz slaps Avril across the face, a blow that knocks the woman's glasses off. Liz is the picture of unrepentant anger. Liz (burst): AVRIL! FX: SWAAP Liz: You used me—but why?!
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Page Twelve Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as page seven and eleven. The rest of the page shows Miraclewoman's transformation. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, the mother looks like she's ready for some moralizing, putting her pince-nez on and looking over them dourly. Mother: Yes—nothing is as it seems these days, Michael. Panel 2: Avril kneels to retrieve her glasses. This panel is inset into Panel 3. Avril: There's no need for violence, Liz… Avril (whisper): Kimota… Panel 3: Full vertical, filling the left side of the page, save the crystal ball "crown" at top. Liz shields her eyes, as Avril Lear is consumed in an eruption of fiery light. I want Avril to be squatting in the middle of the page, basically, as we view her from the side. In this panel on the left, we see streams of incredible light streaming from the form of a kneeling woman… Panel 4: …While in the full vertical panel filling the right side of the page, save the crystal ball "crown" at top, we see Miraclewoman, completing the form of the kneeling woman, energy crackling around her in a nimbus of sparkles. FX (across bottom of entire page): VAWOOOMM! Miraclewoman: We're beyond violence now…
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Page Thirteen Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as previous pages. The rest of the page shows the party, though it's rapidly losing its festive edge. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, the daughter places her hand gently on Michael's shoulder. She is all concern. Daughter: And the truth is rarely perfect… Panel 2: The assembled guests are in awe the miraculous transformation. Winter and several miraclebabies, Huey Moon, Miracledog and British Bulldog are among them, though not clapping. They've seen it all before. Miraclewoman floats a half-foot above the ground, nodding her head toward the assembled worshippers. But Liz isn't taking any of this shit. She's still spitting mad, hair falling in her face. She looks ready to jump Miraclewoman, and the crowd has formed a circle, like kids around a brawl. Liz: "Beyond violence"—that's pretty easy for the chief bully on the playground to say… Liz: …or should I reserve that honour for my ex-husband? Panel 3: Winter floats down between the woman, holding out her little hands in a gesture to separate them. Winter: Please, Mother…Miraclewoman. There is no need. Panel 4: Liz drops to her knees now, tired, her daughter's voice having broken some wall within her. A tear rolls down her cheek. Liz: Isn't it enough that you stole my husband, destroyed my family? I've spent ten years putting my life back together… Liz: …Can't you just leave me alone?! Panel 5: Miraclewoman comes to her knees and places her arm around Liz comfortingly. She is all apology, a goddess who erred, but whose heart was in the right place. Miraclewoman: I'm sorry, Liz. I—I was just trying to make you feel welcome. We want you back as part of our family, that's all…
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Miraclewoman: …I thought that maybe, if we got to know each other better, we could be friends… Panel 6: Liz, no longer angry but certainly not buying any of this, removes Miraclewoman's arm disdainfully. Liz is still on the floor, the books beside her. Liz: Lying through your teeth is really not the best way to start a friendship, Miraclewoman— Liz: —but then what would you people know about honesty? Panel 7: A small panel of the doorman, grinning from ear to ear. Doorman: Announcing tonight's special guest of honour…direct from the Underworld of Mors…
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Page Fourteen Panel 1: Inset upper left. If any of the previous events were a shock to Liz Moran, this one is the clincher. Close-up of Liz, her jaw dropped, one hand to her face Jack Benny style. Liz (whisper): My, God—you've all lost your minds… Panel 2: Splash. The doorman ushers Dr. Emil Gargunza out of the elevator. Gargunza is in his bubble, his Garga-Grin a mile wide. The assembled of Olympus—friends and family of the Miracles—applaud enthusiastically. Liz is rising, standing next to Miraclewoman and Winter, having picked up the books, the other hand to her face as previously described. Behind Gargunza is an elevator full of Warhols, each carrying a Campbell's soup can. Doorman (burst): …Dr. Emil Gargunza! Panel 3: Inset lower right. Winter is sagely reassuring Liz that everything is all right, while taking the books into her own hands for safekeeping. Winter: Grandfather has been completely rehabilitated, Mother. It's time he had a second chance in society.
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Page Fifteen Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as other pages. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, the daughter finishes speaking to Miracleman. Daughter: …More often, truth is simply painful—something we'd prefer to deny at all costs. Panel 2: Winter and Liz talk intimately, the baby, holding the books, floating directly in front of Liz's face. Winter: Would you like to meet him? Liz: I've had that…pleasure… Winter: Of course. I was inside you then. Panel 3: Liz, incredulous, turns to the impassive Miraclewoman, pulling Miraclewoman away from her floating daughter, so they can talk out of earshot. Liz doesn't want to be hurtful, but she is desperate for some kind of human reaction. Liz: How many times did he rape you, tonight's "special guest of honour"? Miraclewoman: He never raped me. The worst Gargunza did was pollute my dreams with his tawdry Frederick's of Hollywood fantasies… Panel 4: Close in on Miraclewoman's face, clearly a grown-up abused child unable to deal with what happened to her. She is in a revery, the depth of the lie she tells herself almost frightening. Miraclewoman: …I was in Never-Land, Liz. He couldn't touch me there. He couldn't… Panel 5: Medium shot. Liz is disgusted. Over her shoulder, we can see Winter presenting her books to Gargunza for him to autograph. Liz: At least there are some blessings—he never did get you pregnant, no matter how hard he tried. Liz:
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You seem barren to this day, in fact… 'course, you're plenty busy breeding every other heffer on Earth who wants a go… Panel 6: Medium shot. Miraclewoman cannot be riled. Over her shoulder, we can see Winter and Gargunza laughing as he autographs her books. Miraclewoman: Thank goodness Miracleman doesn't have to hear all your bile! To think I invited you as a special surprise for him! Miraclewoman: But you seemed so nice in San Francisco, when we were working on Tale. I guess you reserve some special hatred for this particular shade of blue… Panel 7: Miraclewoman turns and walks away, leaving Liz looking at the floor, bested at last. Miraclewoman: …Or is it only perfection you find hard to stomach?
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Pages Sixteen and Seventeen double page spread Across the top are eighteen Warhols, each holding a large Campbell Soup can. The first can has been lifted, to reveal a perfect duplicate of Winter inside. The second can is on its way up, and the third—as if we were in for a synchronized wave of baby revelations. Across the bottom, similar to the top, are eighteen Warhols and the revealed Winters, the first six of which have begin to float and talk, saying "Mother, look! It's me!" These panels are sandwiched inbetween: Panel 1: Liz points at the top Warhols, Winter floating at her shoulder. Winter: Look, it's time for the Warhols' performance piece. Mors and Grandfather helped to create it—but it's all the Warhols' design. Liz: Which one is the real Andy Warhol? Winter: They all are! They're clones. Miraclewoman wanted a singer called Elvis for the party, but Mors couldn't find him among the dead. Panel 2: Winter is childishly curious, and her mother enjoys sharing information with her. It is rare for them. Winter: Do you know Elvis, Mother? Liz: An American. I always liked Buddy Holly better… Panel 3: Winter holds the book out to Liz, who chides her. Winter: Grandfather autographed this book for you, Mother. Said it was special for only you. Can I see it? Liz: Do you have to call that beast "Grandfather"? Winter: He never did anything to harm me… Panel 4: Liz looks motherly, trying to explain the horrors of life to a child while protecting her innocence. Liz: Well, he sent that Miracledog to eat your father… and he threatened to let his soldiers do anything they wanted with me…
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Liz: …That would've been bad, Winter. Panel 5: Liz is angry with her daughter, but it only shows in her face, not in her actions. Winter: But Grand—Gargunza made me… I should be grateful… Liz: What rubbish! Gargunza didn't make you! You came from Mike's— well, Miracleman's—sperm, and my egg. Liz: The gestation period was rather rapid…abrupt might even be a better word…but you were an amazing baby… Panel 6: Liz looks like she's about to cry as she holds her precious daughter close. Winter is passively accepting. Liz: Our baby. From our love. Don't forget that, while you're off in other galaxies, okay? Winter: Yes, Mother. Panel 7: Winter looks deeply and seriously into Liz's eyes. Winter: The Lantiman of Sauk has three eyes, Mother—he only opens one at a time… Liz: I love you, Winter… Winter: Yes, Mother… Panel 8: Winter claps her little hands in delight. Winter: Mother, look! Look—it's me!
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Page Eighteen Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as other pages. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, the Grandmother turns to Miracleman. Grandmother: Are you willing to face the truth—your truth—no matter how much it may hurt? Miracleman: I…I think so… Miracleman: But there are always so many choices—how will I know if I did the right thing? Grandmother: Only time can tell, my son. Only time can tell… Panel 2: A large panel, with eighteen Winters in flight, all perfect, all precocious, all echoing each other. The last Winter—number nineeten—is just leaving her soup can. But which one is the real Winter? And why is Gargunza smiling so much as he bends down next to Miracledog, patting its head? And what is the transistor radio sticking out of his pocket? Winters: Mother…? Mother…? Mother…? Mother…? Panel 3: Liz looks distraught, staring into the maelstrom of Winters. Liz: Winter? Stay with me! Panel 4: Close in on Gargunza as he holds the transistor radio to Miracledog, whose mouth is open and full of horrible fangs. Gargunza (electric, from speaker): Good zzt dog! zzt Therz zzt so zzt much zzt to zzt ree zzt mim zzt bear zzt! Fetch zzt baby zzt now! Zzt go!
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Page Nineteen Atop this page is a panel shaped like the crystal ball—same as other pages. Panel 1: In the crystal ball, Mother becomes insistent, Miracleman uncertain, the daughter dreamy. Mother: That which was lost can be regained—I see that in the crystal… but it will require a quest… Miracleman: A quest? Daughter: A journey…a difficult journey…but where? Panel 2: Huge and crazy panel, a riot of floating babies, swooping and swarming. As Miracledog goes after the floating babies, we see Gargunza going after one baby with a soup can. Liz sees this and is afraid. Miraclewoman speaks to one of the babies, not realizing that there is a problem yet. Several Warhols look on in fear. Winters: Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Good doggie! Good doggie! Good doggie! Gargunza (electric voice): Heh zzt heh zzt heh! Miraclewoman: What's your name, precious? Panel 3: Liz has grabbed a chair, and she raises it over her head, ready to konk Gargunza, who has just plopped a can over one of the Winters, clutching it to his chest. Gargunza (electric voice): zzt I zzt have zzt you zzt now! Liz: Aren't you forgetting me, Doctor?! Panel 4: Liz smashes the chair over Gargunza's head, cracking his space helmet, as Miraclewoman comes forward to chastise her. Miscellaneous Winter-Clones present. FX: KREK Miraclewoman: Liz! What are you doing?! Gargunza:
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Protecting her daughter from the mad scientist, Avril! Can't you tell? Garguna (whisper): Lolita. Panel 5: There is a burst of light. Panel 6: Miraclewoman has turned back into Avril. She looks frail, astonished, as Miracledog heads right at her. Avril (small in balloon): No—I…I want to live…
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Page Twenty Panel 1: British Bulldog throws the charging Miracledog over his shoulder and into a wall, with the sound of cracking ribs. It is a Kirby panel, with British Bulldog's stance so wide it shouldn't be possible. Avril stands still, looking on with dawning recognition. Miscellaneous Winter-Clones present. British Bulldog: Looks like you could use my assistance, Miraclewoman! FX: KRAK Miracledog: YIPYIP Panel 2: Avril, as if realizing for the first time that she's never woken from his dreams, kneels to Gargunza, as he takes off his broken helmet. Liz is grabbing the Campbell Soup Can from him. Avril: I'm still in one of your goddamn comic books, Gargunza. As if there's no escape. Panel 3: Small panel. Concern on her face, Liz lifts the soup can to find nothing inside. Winter has teleported away. Liz: Magic skin… Panel 4: Miracledog is not to be bested, however, backing British Bulldog into a corner, growling. Bulldog looks a bit scared. Miscellaneous Winter-Clones present. Miracledog: GRRR… BB: What's with you, Miracledog? It's me, British Bulldog—remember? Panel 5: Huey Moon to the rescue. Incinerating a Winter-Clone, the Firedrake creates a wall of flame between the Bulldog and Miracledog, backing the beast toward Gargunza, who has his transistor radio out of his pocket. Moon: You don't like fire, now do you, doggie? Keep back, and we won't be forced to make it any hotter… Panel 6: Gargunza grabs Avril cruelly, pushing her past some concerned Warhols toward the elevator, doors closed. Avril fights back, but to little avail.
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Gargunza: If you're still in one of my comic book plots, Avril, maybe this is the part where I make good my escape… Gargunza: …cursing the failure of my plan to steal the child's perfect body, but vowing to return! Warhol: Why are you doing this? I thought you were feeling better.
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Page Twenty-One Panel 1: Back in the home of the fortune-tellers, the Grandmother holds up the crystal ball gingerly, looking deeply into it. We see, reflected in it, the Logo of this comic. Miracleman and the mother are conferring. Grandmother: I see an eagle…arrows in one claw… Miracleman: —an olive branch in the other. America… Mother: Yes, the States—far from the seat of miracles…that is where you will find the answers you seek. That is where you will discover how these things came to pass… Panel 2: Ghostly panel border. In the Underworld, Mors has found a note in Gargunza's room. Mors: A note? But who would Gargunza leave a note for? Panel 3: The text of the note, in Gargunza's hand, scribbled on a piece of paper. Gargunza's note: I do not believe myself to be the first Gargunza clone, nor the last. To those who will follow me, I leave you this message. There came a time when I desired supplies…a transistor radio…some wire… Warhol gave me these things, and I have decided to build a mini-field generator, so that I can leave this Hell. If I succeed, all is well. But if I fail, I leave myself this letter. Try the second plan, Emil. Good luck. Panel 4: Mors holds the note, looking worried. Mors (thought): He didn't build a field generator or try to escape this time. That means— Mors: He's trying the second plan! Panel 5: We see Mors get on his swanboat. Mors: If only there is still time… Panel 6: The crystal falls from the grandmother's hand, crashing in a splinter of flying glass. FX: KAKRESH!
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Panel 7: She looks broken-hearted, almost about to cry. The daughter consoles her. Grandmother: Oh, dear! Look what I have done! Daughter: Here, I'll clean it up. It will be all right. Grandmother: A bad sign. Some disaster, somewhere‌
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Page Twenty-Two Panel 1: Winter-Clones are flying through the flames, Miracledog yipping at their fiery bodies. Moon steps through the wall of flame toward the dog, enjoying the warmth. FX: YipYip Babies: YipYip Yipyip Panel 2: From the opposite point of view (through the opening elevator doors, still 15 feet from Gargunza), we see this action behind Gargunza and Avril, Miracledog backing toward them from background to foreground, Moon in the far background, bringing the sheet of flame closer. Gargunza holds his radio, one arm around Avril in a choke-hold. Gargunza: Come, Miracledog! Panel 3: Small panel. Liz tips over the punchbowl… FX: sploosh Panel 4: Small panel. And the liquid runs across the floor and several turtleing WinterClones, the debris of some of the soup cans and toward the flames… Panel 5: Small panel. Exploding in a small inferno. FX: BWOOSH Panel 6: We see the flames reflected in Gargunza's glasses, his eyes scared. He releases Avril and turns to flee… Panel 7: But Liz is blocking his path, holding the punch bowl over her head, as behind her the astonished doorman looks on from the now fully opened elevator, a figure inside in shadows. Panel 8: Liz smashes the punch bowl down on Gargunza. There is no blood. The bowl does not break FX: KRAK! Liz: This time—
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Page Twenty-Three Panel 1: Mors steps out from within the elevator as Liz smashes the punch bowl down on a now-kneeling Gargunza, his glasses already smashed on the floor. FX: KRAK! Liz: —stay dead! Panel 2: As the punch bowl crashes to the ground, shattering, Warhol 6 comes over to Gargunza, who is lying on the floor. FX: kakresk Warhol 6: Why? Why do you need the baby? Gargunza (weak): Always an ugly little freak…I was always… Panel 3: Warhol 6 holds Gargunza's battered head in his hands, looking into the face, glass everywhere. Warhol 6: Yes…horrible isn't it? Gargunza: I knew you'd understand. Panel 4: Inset of Gargunza's hand as it pushes a purple button on the radio. Panel 5: Gargunza and Warhol 6 lock eyes. Warhol: I knew you'd understand. Panel 6: Small panel. Warhol 6 throws Miracledog the radio. Gargunza holds up his hands, looking at them in stunned silence. Warhol 6: Here's your toy! Run! Panel 7: Miracledog, the radio in its mouth, flies toward a window… Panel 8: …Crashing through it and flying away!
FX: KAKRESH!
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Page Twenty-Four Panel 1: Inset, the same shape as the crystal ball at the top of the page, but this time with shards of glass around it. Inside, the daughter speaks to Miracleman over the first vertical panel, the balloon guiding us into panel 2. Daughter: Is there a companion, someone who can share your journey? Panel 2: Vertical panel filling left half of the page. We see Dickie Dauntless—Young Miracleman—dressed in his red suit and flying happily through the air with his smiling mentor, Miracleman. They are dressed in their original costumes. Young Miracleman: Gee, MM—what a swell adventure! Thanks for having me along! Miracleman/Caption: "Yes… no…" Panel 3: Actually, we return to Panel 1, with the following balloons leading us into Panel 4, which is a full vertical filling the right half of the page. Daughter: Perhaps someone you wouldn't have first considered? Panel 4: A panel of Jason Oakey, from "One Of Those Quiet Moments." He looks up at Miracleman in awe. Miracleman/cap: "Perhaps…perhaps…" Jason: If you give me some chemicals to drink that make me have superpowers, can I be your boy partner? Miracleman: No. Panel 5: Inset into the base of panel 4. The grandmother has opened the door, shooing Miracleman out of it. Grandmother: Go to this person. Begin immediately! You'll never know if you've done the right thing otherwise!
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Page Twenty-Five Panel 1: Strong horizontal. Miracleman streaks across the page in flight, as we see several images of him. In the first, he has on his clothes, in the second, they are burning off him, and in the third he is in his action costume. Panel 2: Large panel. Miracleman arrives in Olympus, landing through a hole in the diamond Capstone room, even as Mors walks in, holding out a small, incredibly high tech device with which he has just turned off Gargunza. Liz is there, and Avril, standing over the inanimate Gargunza. The room is a disaster, babies flying into walls and on their backs, turtle-like, waving their arms and legs helplessly. Moon is calming the flames with his hands. The shattered punch bowl is everywhere. Several Warhols chatter amongst themselves. Miracleman: Liz. Avril. What's happened here?! Liz: Just another party in Miracle-Land. Mors: Gargunza managed to create a device to restore his complete memory matrix. Such genius! Mors: Pity I had to deanimate him‌ Warhol 11: He didn't tell us it was going to work this way. Warhol 3: I always said he wasn't really our friend. Warhol 8: I bet they'll think it's all our fault. Probably shut us down. Panel 3: Winter appears at Liz's shoulder. There are many details of the room around them, to establish where they are. Liz is holding her book, the one Gargunza autographed. Winter: I'm all right. Liz: I should've known you could take care of yourself. Winter: But I appreciate your coming to my aid, Mother. I really do.
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Panel 4: Same figures of Winter and Liz, but Winter is touching Liz with one hand while making a Warp gesture with the other. The background has changed completely, and they are now standing at the base of Olympus. Liz is astonished. Winter: If you ever need anything, I'm here for you, too. Liz: How do you do that?! Winter: You drew the book, Mother! Panel 5: Liz is walking away now, holding her book and looking back at Winter. Liz: Maybe we could celebrate your birthday this year‌ Winter: Everybody does. Liz: Yes. That's right, isn't it? Well, come see me some other time. Warp to San Francisco. Winter: Can I bring Father? Panel 6: Close-up of Liz. She looks very sad. Liz: The man I married has been gone a long time, Winter. A long time. Panel 7: The two wave at each other, tiny smiles. Liz: Bye bye, Winter.
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Page Twenty-Six three tiers of two panels each Panel 1: Winter talks to Miracleman atop Olympus, standing outside in the wind, looking down. Winter: She killed Gran—Gargunza. Miracleman: She's an astonishing woman. Winter: She lives in San Francisco now. Miracleman: Yes. I—overheard. Panel 2: Close in on Miracleman, his daughter floating behind him. Miracleman: I've been meaning to visit America… Panel 3: Liz walks through the streets of London, forlorn, alone, isolated, holding her book open in her hands. We are close enough to see the expression of shock on her face. Panel 4: Close in on Gargunza's inscription, in the same handwriting as his previous note. Inscription: To Liz, who never asked to be the Holy Mother… A word to the wise is sufficient— Abraxas. With fondest regards…Emil Gargunza Panel 5: In the home of the fortunetellers, the three gather to discuss their day. The Grandmother holds a teacup up, looking into it. Mother: Didn't leave us so much as a farthing! Daughter: Money's useless now anyway, mother! Mother: It's the principle of the thing, I always say. Wonder how his quest will end up… Panel 6: We look down into the teacup. The tea leaves form the shape of a bolt of comic book lightning.
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Balloon to Grandmother in previous panel: Curious. Take a look at his tea leaves… THE END
Burke/Caribé