One of the features of Miéville’s writing style that I appreciate so strongly is his unwillingness to provide easy recaps and cheap exposition. It may demand that its readers revisit earlier issues to recall details of its narrative threads, but it highly rewards those that do. The unfortunate consequence of this is that it makes it all the more difficult for new readers to find their footing. And Dial H #10’s opening is disorienting as it is. Without pause or summary, it picks up right where #9 left off, in the middle of a break-in to the Canadian headquarters for Dial military research by its protagonist Nelson Jent as superhero The Glimpse. In a stroke of good luck, Nelson finds some unexpected help in stealing another Dial and escaping the Canadians, which is funny AGAIN as I type it…”escaping the Canadians.” The Dial itself is a bit of a revelation, a sidekick dial (7-4-3-3) to complement the hero dial (4-3-7-6).

I’ve said before that no current comic sustains the density of ideas that Dial H does. This is particularly true of the slowly revealing Dial mythology, which is being pieced together by Canadian agent The Centipede and Roxie (presumably among others). Miéville does a phenomenal job giving just enough information–both textual and visual–to begin reconstructing the history of the dials and the mysterious figure “O,” the Operator, about whom there are references in telephone history, and who we see briefly here. We also see a strangely alien relief sculpture corresponding with Nelson’s observation, “Can’t run an army just on generals, Roxie. You need soldiers to obey them” (Dial H #10, p. 12), a further tantalizing clue to the history of the Dial.

However, the real surprise is the development of the relationship between Nelson and Roxie. Possessed now with complementary dials, they first experiment as hero and sidekick with truly unexpected results. Miéville also provides a refreshingly different dynamic between the two. Nelson, acknowledging the validity of Roxie’s concerns about him losing himself in his dialed identities, graciously defers to Roxie’s authority and accedes that she is better suited, so to speak, as a hero than himself. Their subsequent ease as a crime-fighting duo is all the more satisfying for it.

Despite the quality of its ideas and storytelling, Dial H’s artwork continues to be underwhelming. Issues without original artist Santolouco are sometimes awkward and rarely innovative. They are often rich in scripted detail, and therefore worth close scrutiny, but as art they are stilted, particularly in their representation of the non-heroes. As ever, the heroes themselves, however bizarre, are easily the most visually interesting and carefully characterized in the issue, but even then the interior work is somewhat shamed by the excellent cover illustration of the Bristol Bloodhound.