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his being.
    Batman replaced the infrared binoculars in their pouch in the Utility Belt that circled his waist. There was nothing here that required his services. At least, not above ground.
    He swung himself up over the parapet of a building and dropped lightly to his feet beside the small array of lights that acted as a guidance beacon for aircraft heading to Gotham Field. Quickly, he popped the catch on another of his belt's pouches and pulled out a sheet of paper. Unfolding it, he bent to study the map of the Gotham City sewer system.
    He'd memorized it years earlier, but this was the latest version. It showed all the new tunnels, constructed as part of the city's rolling program to replace the original nineteenth-century sewer system. Although a technical marvel in its time, it had long since passed its use-by date. The brick-lined tunnels were crumbling, the old iron pipework was rusted and leaking, and the budget for emergency repairs marched steadily upward every year.
    The map also showed those old tunnels that had either collapsed or been closed down and were no longer viable. There was a whole network of them underneath Gotham Cathedral, and that was where Batman was headed.
    Otis Flannegan was down there somewhere, hidden in that maze of tunnels, with the loot he'd stolen in a series of daring robberies during the past few weeks.
    Otis Flannegan: the Ratcatcher.
    Where he found Flannegan, Batman knew he'd also find his "pets." Rats. Tens of thousands of them.
    Batman folded the map into a small square and stashed it away. He readjusted his bat-line, then kicked off backward over the parapet and dropped quickly down the side of the building, his cape billowing around him like the wings of some hell-spawned demon.
    He landed in a dingy alley. Teenage vandals had smashed the streetlights, and the local restaurants used the alley as a convenient–if illegal–dump. Black plastic trash bags were piled five feet high, the stench of their rotting contents filling the narrow area. There was no one around.
    Batman smoothly levered up the manhole cover at the side of the alley. He went in feetfirst, then replaced the cover behind him before scrambling down the rusting iron rungs set in the wall of the access shaft.
    Within seconds, he had left the city behind and disappeared into the shadowed world below its streets.
    "The sign outside says you do tarot card readings. I want to know my future."
    Raymond Marcus sat in the small consultation room, fighting to still the involuntary twitch that threatened the entire left side of his face. His cheek was puffed up and swollen, half closing his left eye. He should have taken his dose of painkillers an hour ago. But they clouded his mind, and tonight–for once–he wanted to be able to think straight. No matter how much it hurt.
    Across the table from him, Madame Cassandra pursed her lips. "That's a tall order. The future doesn't give up its secrets easily," she said quietly. "There are so many possibilities, most of them intertwined. It's easier–and usually more accurate–if you can focus on one particular problem."
    "Oh, I can do that all right," Marcus said bitterly. "Problem: facial neuralgia. Result: constant pain verging on agony. Treatment: painkillers so strong they're destroying my mind."
    Cassandra looked directly at him, and in the light of the small art nouveau lamp on the polished tabletop, Marcus noticed her eyes for the first time. They were the deepest blue he'd ever seen, set off perfectly by the duster of platinum curls that fringed her pretty face.
    "And what exactly do you want to know, Mr. Marius?" Cassandra asked.
    "I've tried everything for this condition. The doctors are fed up seeing me, but nothing they prescribe seems to work. I just can't stand the pain any longer." Marcus hesitated for a moment, a little embarrassed, before going on. "I'm thinking of attending an All-Faith meeting tonight. The guy on television said they can do miracles. There was a