"I don't want you to," Samuel said, his tone hardening. "I don't want your help. Your charity. I'll do it on my own."
"Even if it means suspension," I said.
He shrugged. "Shoot. Good as I am, the college boys aren't even gonna look at that. Once they see me, that's that."
"They're going to have a hard time seeing you if you get suspended. I checked regulations. You aren't going to be eligible to play for the rest of this season."
He shrugged. "So I arrange something else. I don't need your help, Mister Science."
I exhaled heavily. "Everyone needs help sometime."
"Not me," he said. "Nice of you to come by, but it ain't helping me any. Best if you just go."
"You sure?" I asked him. "It could mean a lot, in the long run. Making sure you're on the team."
"My life. I'll handle it." He shrugged. "I can't do ball, I'll do something else. My mom can't do it alone no more."
"G and his buddies seem to like you," I noted.
"Grew up together here," Samuel said, nodding. "I don't like what they do, but… people gotta live."
I stood there for a moment, feeling stupid and awkward. Then I nodded to him and said, "Your call, then." I pulled a scrap of paper out of my notebook and wrote down my number. "But here's my number. In case you change your mind."
"I won't," he said, making no move to take the paper I offered.
"In case," I said. "Keep your options open."
He glowered for a moment and shook his head. Then he took the paper and said, "Just to get rid of you."
We headed for the nearest subway station, Felicia watching me steadily the whole time.
"Sometimes I don't know how you do that," she said.
"Do what?"
"Think about other people. You're up to your neck in trouble, but you're worried about some loudmouthed prima donna. Going out of your way to see him."
"I have to," I said.
"Why?"
"The same reason I won't leave town."
"Which is?"
"If I let my fear of the Ancients force me to aban-don my life, if I run away from everything I think is important, they've already killed me. If I hadn't come here, then this time next week, I'd feel pretty bad about leaving Samuel in the lurch without even trying to help."
"If you're alive in a week," she pointed out.
"Right," I said. "I'm planning on its happening. That's one of the things that's helped me survive this long."
Felicia shook her head. "He seems like a pretty good kid, once you get past the attitude."
"Yeah," I said.
"You're going to do everything you can to help him, aren't you."
"Yes I am."
"Even though you're up to your tights in alligators already," she said, her voice amused.
"When am I
not?"
She laughed, and we walked in companionable silence for a while. I stopped at the entrance to the subway.
She tilted her head at me. "What is it?"
"I hate this mystic stuff," I said, frustrated. "Way too nebulous. I've got nothing but speculation. Theories. Hot air. I've got the next best thing to nothing when it comes to empirical data. What I need is someone who's actually been around the Ancients, who knows them."
"Seems to me that they don't like to go public. I doubt anyone close enough to have seen them in action survived to talk about it."
"But without some kind of information, I'm at a dead end. There's no record, no evidence of—"
Suddenly an idea hit me, and I had to sit there frowning furiously until my brain ran the numbers.
"What is it?" she asked.
"There is evidence," I said. "Or there might be."
"What?"
"Renfield Dex," I said.
"Who?"
"He was Morlun's little buddy. Human. Took care of details for him. He was there when Morlun died." I shivered. "Morlun hadn't treated him well. When I beat Morlun down, Dex took a gun off an unconscious guard and emptied the whole thing into Morlun's chest."
Felicia's eyes widened. "There were two people there when Morlun died," she said. "Dex and you."
"Yeah."
"Then I guess we need to talk to Dex." She frowned. "What's the rest of his name? Where is he?"
"I don't know," I said. "But when the cops got to the reactor, they found the gun in the aftermath. I'm sure they lifted prints from it. If we can get the prints, maybe we can identify him. The police should have them on file, even if the weapon went back to its owner."
"Wouldn't they have done that already?"
"I doubt it," I said. "That kind of thing could take a lot of man-hours, and it isn't as though they'd found a murder weapon. What was left of Morlun when they got there couldn't have filled a thermos. The only crimes had been in trespassing and the assault on the guard."
She narrowed her eyes in thought. "That would put it a pretty good way down their priority list, wouldn't it. But they don't exactly leave the evidence room open to the public," she said.
"Felicia," I said. "I'm sure that if anyone can find a way to get them, it's you."
She beamed at me. "It's sweet of you to say that. Even if it makes the air smell just a little bit like hypocrisy, O great defender of the law." I glowered at her. "Don't start with me." She smiled, pleased to have needled me. "What are you going to do?"
"What I should have done last night," I said. "I was just hoping to avoid it, because every time I go there, I get the crap beat out of me by something, or shipped off to some funky dimension to get the crap beat out of me, or my astral self gets projected away from my body so that I'm getting the crap beaten out of me in two dimensions at once. It's bad. It's always bad. Every time it happens I swear to myself that I'm never going down Bleecker Street ever again."
"Ohhh," Felicia said. "Him."
"Time's a-wasting," I said. She nodded, rising. "I'll call the office, and we'll see what we can do about finding Dex. Quick description, please?"
"White male, twenty-five to thirty-five, about five-eight, straight brown hair, one of those shaggy goatees, hazel eyes. Real thin face, long nose."
She nodded. "Got it."
I put a hand on her shoulder. "Watch your back," I said.
"Always," she said, smiling. She touched my hand lightly and then vanished into the subway.
I slipped into an empty alley, put on my mask, and set off to visit Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme.
Chapter 13
I HEADED OVER TO STRANGE'S PLACE on
Bleecker Street. It's easy to find from above. All I have to do is look for the funky round window with its oddly shaped panes. I didn't go in through the window, though. You don't just sidle into a sorcerer's place through the windows or the vents. Guys like Strange tend to protect themselves against that sort of thing. It's safest to go in through the front door.
I had my hand raised to knock when Wong opened the door and gave me a small bow. "Spider-Man."
Wong is tall for a native Tibetan and can look me right in the eye. He had a little piece of tissue paper stuck to a spot where he'd nicked himself shaving, on the top of his head. He wore trousers and a shirt of green silk with black embroidery, accented with threads the color of polished bronze. His expression was what it usually was—serene. To me at least.
Wong's poker face was so good, it nearly qualified as a superpower.
"Wong," I said. "You busted up my groove."
"Did I?"
"Big time. I was going to do the Bugs Bunny routine on the Doc. I brought a carrot and everything."
Wong nodded, his expression serious. "My soul is impoverished by the sin of… busting up your groove? Additionally, I mourn my master's disappointment in being unable to properly experience your doubtlessly flawless impersonation of a cartoon rabbit."
I looked at him for a second. "Nobody likes a wise-ass, Wong."
Wong's mouth twitched at one corner, though he came nowhere close to actually smiling. "My master is expecting you. Please come in. May I take your… carrot?"