Chapter 3
Peter blinked. They were definitely not in the same tunnel. The lights along the walkway were spaced closer together. In the distance he could hear the voices of several people, and the slithering hiss of Farswimmer's people. Peter caught a glimpse of Gerry Dixon's arms windmilling — he had been right at the water's edge when they had "landed". Thor reached forward smoothly and snagged the back of Dixon's coat, saving him from an unplanned swim.
"Thank you," Dixon muttered tersely, and strode forward.
"You're welcome," Thor replied, tone and expression completely deadpan. Evans frowned at his back, but when she passed, all she said was, "Thank you."
Steadman's body had been transported along with the rest of them. Dixon moved down the tunnel into an open area that held a small crowd and stopped to talk to someone in a paramedic's uniform. The woman and another man who appeared to be her partner passed the rest of Evans' party as they followed Dixon into the open space. The two paramedics were unfolding what Peter guessed was a body bag.
About half a dozen of Farswimmer's people stood in the meeting area; two of the large creatures held smaller creatures in their arms. Both of the youngsters were eating something that smelled strongly of fish.
"We call them the Echthroi," Evans explained, pronouncing it Eck-thwa. At the sound of the name, most of the creatures glanced at her; several made gestures of greetings. She waved as she took Spider-man by the elbow and guided him around Thor to give him a better view of the creatures. "That's not what they call themselves, of course. Well, to be honest they don't call themselves anything, but you can't put that down on the paperwork..."
"They don't have a word for themselves?" Peter asked.
"They're telepaths," Evans replied gently. "They don't have words for anything. They don't need them."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess I should have thought of that."
"At any rate, they picked the name 'Echthroi' out of someone's mind a couple of decades ago, and it's become their official name in our records. 'Echthroi' is a term from a Madeline L'Engle novel entitled A Wind in the Door. Her Echthroi were actually an evil race that destroyed things by 'unnaming' them. Our Echthroi seem to find the disparity rather amusing; maybe that's why they pick such unusual names for themselves.
"They can't speak English, given their rather formidable dental structure," she continued, "so they've learned sign language as a way to talk to us. They've been living down here for nearly 70 years — they came to our planet back in the late 1930s, originally as a group of refugees. Their homeworld had been destroyed by a race known as the Chitauri."
All the Echthroi suddenly snarled. Peter flinched, then relaxed when he realized the Echthroi were reacting to Evans' words and not to anything he had done. "I won't get into the details of that, except to say that the Echthroi evolved on a world with an extremely toxic environment. Humans wouldn't last long there without special protective suiting. The only place we could re-create their environment safely was here in the sewers. The chemicals are pumped into the waterways in a section of the sewers that are closed off from the tunnels used by the city. Most of the time, the Echthroi are sealed away from the rest of New York's denizens."
"You shouldn't be telling him this," Dixon warned over his shoulder. He had been speaking with a couple of the other humans in the gathering. Before Evans could respond, Farswimmer (at least Peter thought it was Farswimmer — the Echthroi all looked pretty much alike in the dim light) touched Dixon on the arm and held out a hand. On the creature's palm rested a knife.
Dixon pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket and accepted the knife, resting it in his hand while Evans, Peter, Thor, and a couple of the other humans present peered at it.
"Farswimmer says he found this in the water near Steadman's body," Dixon told them.
"Carrying it for protection?" someone suggested.
Farswimmer shook his head. His hands moved. One pulled knife on — here he made Spider-man's letter sign, then added, friend.
"What does that mean?" Peter asked.
"The word 'one' is how they identify someone they don't have a name for," Dixon explained. "In this case, I think he means Steadman pulled the knife on your friend Mr. Urich."
"I don't get it," Peter said. "Why would he think Ben Urich is a threat?"
"Steadman wasn't one of our operatives," Dixon replied, "so it can't be because he was protecting the Echthroi. He shouldn't have even known they exist." He looked around the circle of faces surrounding him. "Ben Urich was coming down here in a couple of weeks to look at the places where some rumored 'monster-sightings' took place."
"Unless Mr. Urich was going to publish an article about something Steadman didn't want exposed?" Peter suggested.
"Why don't I run Mr. Steadman-slash-Archer through the NYPD's database?" Evans suggested.
Dixon shook his head. "I'd rather you sit down and rest for a while. You've been mind-linking with the Echthroi a lot in the last couple of days."
"I can do both at the same time," Evans protested.
Dixon frowned. "Over there, where the paramedics can look at you once they're done with Steadman's remains." He pointed to a small area containing medical equipment.
"I think that would be an excellent idea," Thor added. Both Evans and Dixon stared at him.
"Since when?" Evans grumbled.
"Since now. You haven't eaten since yesterday, and now that you're standing in halfway decent lighting, your color is wrong." Thor touched her lightly on the elbow and gently but firmly steered her toward a chair, leaving a puzzled Dixon behind them. "Come. Sit." Evans sat and began tapping her computer keys with the stylus; Thor knelt on the floor beside her. After a minute, she said, "Hm. Looks like Mr. Archer has been a busy fellow."
"You've found police records?" Thor asked.
"Yes."
"Good." He took the computer out of her hands and passed it to Peter. "Do you know how to work one of these?"
"Uh, yeah, I think so."
"He can't use that—it contains classified information," Evans protested, reaching for the computer. Thor gripped her arm and settled her back into the chair.
"I'm certain he will resist the temptation and keep only to the files you've opened." Thor carefully rolled up Evans' sleeve. "Does your watch have a second hand?"
"Yes."
"Time me fifteen seconds." He folded two fingers over Evans' wrist.
"This is seriously annoying, Thor," Evans grumbled.
"The sooner you time this, the sooner I'll be finished."
Evans grimaced, extended her other arm to expose her watch, and paused. "All right. Begin."
Peter grinned. Can't blame her—I sure wouldn't argue with a guy who could break my arm with a flick of the wrist. He looked down at the computer screen. "Trent Archer" was one of several aliases listed in the file. This guy really was busy! The list of alleged crimes, most of them "charges dropped", continued for several lines.
"What do we have?" Dixon asked, coming up behind Peter.
"Um, a whole list of accusations, almost no convictions," Peter said. "'Known associates'..." He stopped abruptly. The third name on the list was Wilson Fisk. "The Kingpin. That explains a lot!"
"Revenge killing?" Evans suggested. She glanced at her watch. "Oh, time!"
"Was that fifteen seconds?" Thor asked.
Evans looked sheepish. "More like twenty-two."
"Do it again, please."
Evans growled and looked back at her watch. "Start..."
Dixon was nodding thoughtfully. "Steadman had this pretty well planned. He knew when the tunnels would be empty, and he knew that Urich had asked for a escort." His expression turned grim. "I wonder how many other people have just 'disappeared' in the sewers in the last, what was it, five years?"
"Five and a half," Evans corrected him. "Time," she said sideways to Thor.
"I don't like your pulse," he said, releasing her wrist.
"Well, I'm sorry, but it's the only one I've got," Evans remarked.
"It's too fast for a resting heart rate. And you need to eat."
Evans rolled her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat. "You sound like my mother."
"Good luck getting her to listen to you," Dixon said. "I've been trying for almost four years now. She argues with everyone."
"I do not," Evans retorted.
The side of Dixon's mouth twitched. "I rest my case."
The security guard Jennings appeared at the entrance of the medical area. "The other Echthroi party is here," she said. "And we've got two people ready to take the body up." Dixon nodded his thanks and followed her out. Evans rose. "My computer, please," she said to Peter, who reluctantly handed it over. "You can always ask Santa for one for Christmas," she suggested.
"I've never gotten anything like that in my stocking," Peter mock-grumbled. Evans chuckled and led the way out of the medical area.
Dixon, Jennings, Farswimmer and two of the other Echthroi were facing a new group of the dark-skinned creatures. Evans walked forward to meet the new arrivals.
The creatures watched as Evans moved closer. As she halted just beyond arm's length from them, the foremost Echthroi suddenly hunched down slightly, hissing, and flung its arms out to reveal the wickedly clawed hands. Its mouth gaped open and its upper lip pulled back, displaying more of the needle-like teeth. It bobbed up and down, snarling.
Peter's arm shot out, finger on the trigger of his webshooter. A large hand closed over his shoulder. "Don't," Thor's voice sounded in his ear. "It's a greeting. She did the same thing when I met them — I think she just enjoys scaring people."
Evans too had crouched and hissed back at the Echthroi, her own hands curving to show her "claws". The Echthroi and the human circled each other, sidling closer, until the Echthroi caught Evans' hands in its own. It tilted its head and its teeth closed on Evans' throat, gently enough that they left no marks. Then it released her and each took a step back, Evans smiling.
She turned and indicated Peter. "Blackheart, this is Spider-man." The Echthroi eyed Peter and took a step forward.
"Just stand still, Peter. She won't hurt you."
She? That's a female? How can you tell? Peter froze as the creature's face came within a finger's length of his own. He wondered belatedly which "she" Thor had been referring to earlier. The Echthroi inhaled several times, the unblinking black eyes studying his face. Then she stepped back and raised her clawed hand to imitate the sign Evans had shown Farswimmer earlier.
"And this is Blackheart, the Echthroi's primary human liaison."
"Uh, hi," Peter said.
Blackheart nodded to him. Then she turned slightly and her hand moved in a sign Peter assumed was a greeting. She made the sign for the letter "T" and moved her hand in a circular motion over the center of her chest, where a human heart would have been.
"Hello, Blackheart," Thor greeted her, and the Echthroi hissed at him softly. As Blackheart greeted Dixon, another of her party moved up to stand beside her. Peter's breath caught in his throat. The second Echthroi was carrying Ben Urich, one arm under the reporter's shoulders and the other under his knees.
Evans reached up to touch Urich's throat, feeling for a pulse. "Blackheart, what did you do?"
We stimulated the portion of the brain that produced natural relaxants, Blackheart signed.
"I think you went a little overboard," Evans remarked.
It was necessary. He was very frightened.
"I can't imagine why," Evans drawled. "Having your teeth within a few inches of my jugular vein scares me, and I know you." The Echthroi uttered a sort of a short bark, which Peter took as laughter. "Well, Mr. Urich has a nice, steady heartbeat." She glanced over her shoulder at Thor and quipped, "Maybe you'll like his pulse better."
The Echthroi carrying Urich relinquished his burden to the paramedics, who settled the reporter on a portable stretcher they had set up near an exit. The woman on the team began placing a blood pressure cuff on his arm.
The Echthroi in both parties froze as though listening to something only they could hear. A few minutes later, Blackheart's hands moved in sign. Scouts sighted one of the dragons.
"All right," Dixon said. "Your party's on patrol this time, Blackheart?" She nodded. Thor leaned down to lift the hammer he had propped up against the wall of the medical area. Farswimmer and several of his party's members accepted the young Echthroi Blackheart's group had found.
"D'you want me to go with you?" Spider-man asked.
"No," replied Dixon. "You've seen enough down here already."
Spider-man folded his arms. "Well, you know, I really wasn't asking you." He pointed to Blackheart. "Isn't she kind of the one in charge?"
Thor chuckled. Blackheart turned to him, her hands moving. What do you think?
"I think Spider-man's presence would be helpful," Thor said. "The sooner we subdue the last two dragons, the more quickly this mission will be over."
"He doesn't have the proper clearance," Dixon argued.
"Neither do I."
Blackheart cocked her head to one side, as though thinking. The other Echthroi stood motionless as well. Finally Blackheart raised her hands again, and Evans translated for Spider-man. We all want this over. We agree. Blackheart made Spider-man's sign with her right hand. Will you come with us? We welcome your help.
"Sure," Spider-man said. "I mean, I got into this whole thing to help people. I guess it doesn't matter whether those people are humans or aliens." He sprang forward and crawled up the wall, pausing halfway to the ceiling. Blackheart turned to Dixon. We share your concern. We promise to speak with him when this is over. Dixon glanced at Evans, who nodded.
"All right, Blackheart. I'll agree," Dixon said.
Blackheart signed a Thank you.
"I'll find an extra pair of goggles," Evans said.
"How far is it to the place where the scouts found the dragon, Blackheart?" Thor asked. Blackheart moved to stand in front of him, stretching up on her toes as Thor bent forward to let her cheek made contact with his. A moment later they drew apart. Thor nodded. "We'll teleport, then." Almost as one, the Echthroi in Blackheart's group turned and plunged into the water, crowding close together. Evans reappeared, goggles in hand.
"These should making seeing easier, even with this dim lighting," she said, holding them up to Spider-man.
The goggles didn't begin to cover the lenses in the front of his mask. "Uh, excuse me." He crawled up and along the wall into the shadows, then, turning his back on everyone, quickly removed the mask, slid the goggles in place, and pulled the mask back on. The mask's lenses tapped against the goggles' frame, but they remained in place. Everything took on a yellow cast, but his sight had improved and he could pick out details in the lighted areas he hadn't seen before. Huh. Wonder if they'd let me keep these... Realizing everyone was waiting, he crawled back down the wall into the light and nodded.
Thor grasped Mjolnir in his right hand and rose smoothly into the air. "Cover your eyes, everyone."
Peter squeezed his eyes closed, and in a flash of light, the hunting party vanished.