The Best of a Bad Lot

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Reality's slap had indeed woken Laurie.

She realized that the man in front of her was not someone she could handle alone.

She needed help.

Laurie turned, retrieved her coat, and cautiously walked toward the place she assumed was the door.

"See her out," Damon told Lilah.

Lilah escorted Laurie outside.

Laurie was astonished the whole way. She realized she seemed to be inside a ship, and what shocked her even more was what happened when she stepped down and looked around to identify the area.

The ship disappeared.

Laurie instinctively reached out.

There was clearly nothing there. The view blended perfectly with the surroundings. Yet her hand still touched the "ship."

She stood beside it in silence for a long while before finally turning away.

Since Dr. Manhattan was gone, Damon had no interest in learning about the other Watchmen. Laurie had the classic figure that could draw attention, but she still did not surpass Lilah, and he did not currently feel like changing pillows.

When Lilah returned, Damon operated the Disciple and slowly lifted off.

His departure caused trouble for Laurie. She wanted to find the other Watchmen for help, but because Damon left so quickly, it took her a long time to see him again.

Moscow. The Bolshoi Theatre.

A famous ballet troupe happened to be performing there that night.

In a private box, Soviet scientist Valentina Vostok sat on a leather sofa, drinking red wine while waiting for the show to begin. She wore a long red dress, her hair pinned up, her makeup immaculate. Only her eyes carried a trace of helpless frustration.

She had failed again.

The research on the Firestorm Matrix had failed once more.

Valentina felt as if she had already touched the threshold and needed only one more step to cross it. But that final step left her standing outside the door, unable to move forward.

"What am I missing..."

She shook her head, drained her wine, and prepared to concentrate on the performance.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in," Valentina said casually at the sound.

The door opened.

An unfamiliar man entered with a smile, holding another person in one hand.

Valentina recognized the unconscious man as her driver.

"You..."

Valentina hurried to her feet. The stranger tossed her driver aside and walked in with a very beautiful woman behind him.

"Good evening, Miss Valentina."

Damon smiled and sat at the other end of the sofa. His gaze drifted to the wine on the table.

"Drinking alone is dull. Shall I join you?"

Valentina hesitated for perhaps a second or two, then smiled.

"Of course."

Damon had just started to reach out when Lilah, perceptive as ever, stepped forward and poured two glasses for them.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."

The glasses touched lightly, and both took a sip.

Damon smiled.

"I admire your courage and composure, so I have decided to make tonight as pleasant for you as I can."

"Should I say thank you?"

"You should," Damon said modestly. "Have you heard of time travel?"

Valentina paused.

"From that look, you have. Did Vandal Savage tell you? Even better. Rather than wasting my breath explaining, I would prefer to save it for better uses."

Valentina frowned.

"Your flirting is not very good."

"I am usually more direct." Damon chuckled. "Then I will be direct. I have a small interest in the Firestorm Matrix, so I would like to study under you systematically. In return, I will help you become Firestorm and give you a one-way ticket through time. Past, future, any point you choose."

Valentina asked, "Why should I believe you?"

"You already do, do you not?"

Damon gestured for Lilah to pour more wine. With one hand holding the glass and the other arm around Lilah, he began watching the ballet.

The performance started, but Valentina did not truly watch it. Her eyes stayed on the unfamiliar man holding a woman while drinking wine, and she considered his proposal.

Her main reason for researching the project was to help the Soviet Union defeat the United States. If he truly was a time traveler, and if he truly could help her become Firestorm, then trying his offer would do no harm. As for whether he was deceiving her, Valentina was confident she could find out.

With that thought, Valentina raised her glass and gave a charming smile.

"Holding another woman in front of me is not very gentlemanly."

"That does not matter. I have done far worse."

Damon lightly clinked his glass against hers and focused on the ballet.

One glass after another. One sentence after another.

They talked like old acquaintances, ranging from ballet to the wider world. At first, Valentina was probing him for information, but gradually she forgot her own purpose. It was not because she had lost her alertness, nor because Damon was overwhelmingly charming. It was because she increasingly felt that what Damon said might all be true.

He really might be a time traveler.

"You say this place will become one of the ten greatest theaters in the world?" Valentina laughed softly. "Then perhaps I should ask the theater to let me rent this box for longer. Better yet, buy it outright."

"Why not buy the entire theater?" Damon asked casually.

Valentina paused, then laughed.

"You are right. Perhaps I should."

The two-hour performance ended perfectly.

Valentina rose, took her coat from the wall, put it on, and looked at Damon.

"I accept your proposal. When will you come to me?"

"Why not now? I have no place to stay in this era anyway. I assume you will not mind."

Valentina bent down, took the car keys from the unconscious driver's pocket, and looked at Damon.

"Can you drive?"

"Gladly, beautiful lady."

Damon put on a mock gentlemanly gesture, and Valentina smiled as she took his arm.

They left the theater and found Valentina's car. Damon drove. Lilah sat in the passenger seat, a little tense. Valentina sat in the back and gave the address.

The car started slowly and drove away.

Damon was not exactly a top student. He had never been the type to study diligently day after day. Asking Valentina to teach him the theory behind the Firestorm Matrix was merely the best choice in a bad lot, an interest he had barely scraped together.

After all, Firestorm's power was useful. It could alter or transmute the atomic properties and structures of different objects, such as turning lead into an equal mass of gold. With that power, one essentially owned a money-printing machine and would never need to worry about money.

Not that Damon had ever worried about money.

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