On the Aerie, Jack Kadere input the time and coordinates but made no move to launch.
Lilah had learned from experience. She'd buckled herself into her seat early this time, braced for the usual chaos of interdimensional travel. Minutes passed. The ship stayed dark and still.
"Master?" she ventured.
Jack swiveled his chair to face her, smiling. "Helping the Legends rescue their people isn't a big deal. And while we're at it, we can take a look at Vandal Savage. No special abilities to speak of, but he's got true immortality—you can only kill him through very specific methods. Anything else, he regenerates from a single cell and walks it off."
"Immortal? Regeneration?" Lilah's eyes widened. "Then how is anyone supposed to beat him?"
"Immortality's not that impressive." Jack waved dismissively. "Sara Lance's captain is originally from an organization called the Time Masters. He assembled the Legends specifically to hunt Vandal Savage across history—except he didn't know the Time Masters were secretly helping Savage the whole time. And the Legends still won eventually. That's how useless they are." He chuckled. "But aside from killing Savage to see how his resurrection works, and checking out this Soviet Firestorm project... there's not much entertainment value. So I'm thinking about adding something to the itinerary."
"Adding... what?"
"If the Soviets are about to create their own Firestorm and win the Cold War, the United States can't just sit around watching, can they?" Jack's smile sharpened with interest. He adjusted the temporal coordinates, pushing them back one year.
---
1985, United States.
The Aerie descended onto a rooftop and shimmered into invisibility the moment they stepped off.
"This is America, 1985." Jack surveyed the skyline. "About sixty years forward from where we just were."
Lilah stared at the city below—glass towers, neon signs, cars sleeker than anything she'd seen. To someone from 1917, it looked like stepping into a fever dream of the future.
Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and stepped off the roof.
They hit the pavement with a thunderous crack. Pedestrians scattered, screaming. Jack released Lilah and strolled away as if he'd simply descended a staircase.
The architecture held no interest for him, but Lilah couldn't stop looking. Everything felt impossible—the scale, the noise, the sheer density of stuff. A newsstand on the corner displayed headlines about the Cold War, and she caught fragments of conversation as people passed, debating missile counts and Soviet intentions.
Jack flipped through the newspapers without paying, scanning each front page and tossing them aside. The newsstand owner shouted after him. Jack ignored it and walked on.
"Master, what are we looking for?" Lilah hurried to catch up.
"Someone." Jack frowned. "He should be famous enough to dominate the headlines. Either he doesn't exist here, or there's been a deviation."
Lilah hesitated, voice dropping. "Are we... looking for a body pillow?"
"A body—" Jack physically recoiled. "The hell are you talking about? A body pillow of Blue Schlong? Do I look insane? Even if I were insane, my taste would still be normal!"
Lilah flinched at the outburst but felt a wave of relief. So it wasn't that.
Blue Schlong—officially Doctor Manhattan, born Jonathan Osterman. The only genuine superhuman in the Watchmen.
If Jack Kadere was a madman, Doctor Manhattan was something stranger. His power ranked among the highest in the entire DC multiverse. And the man walked around buck naked, swinging his glowing blue equipment for the world to see like he was proud of it. Pervert didn't quite cover it.
As the sole "Superman" of this era, Manhattan hadn't hidden after his creation. He'd worked openly with the U.S. government, using his existence to deter the Soviets, hoping to achieve world peace. For that goal, he'd eventually taken the blame for crimes he didn't commit and left Earth entirely. But even after his departure, there should have been coverage—retrospectives, speculation, something. Jack had found nothing.
As if the man had never existed.
"Maybe he's in a parallel world," Jack muttered, frowning.
Disappointing.
He'd have to settle for the Soviet Union—a year early, sure, but if he destroyed the Gulag and eliminated Valentina Vostok before she completed her research, the Legends would have no reason to go there in 1986. No mission meant no capture.
"Let's go—" He turned to call Lilah back to the Aerie and stopped.
A woman had just rounded the corner at the far end of the street.
"Go?" Jack's disappointment evaporated. "Surprises everywhere."
He pointed. "See her?"
Lilah followed his gaze. A tall woman in a trench coat and hat, walking briskly toward them.
"Is she the person you're looking for?"
"She might be able to help me find him."
Jack moved to intercept.
A few strides and he was directly in her path. The woman, startled, tried to sidestep. Jack blocked her again.
"Sir." Her voice was clipped with irritation. "Move."
Jack smiled and shook his head.
"What do you want?" She studied him, clearly wondering if she'd run into some street-corner creep. How long had it been since anyone had tried this with her?
"I want to talk."
I want to talk. The classic opening line of every creep who'd ever existed. So he was a creep. Her expression hardened. "Step aside. Or you'll regret it."
"I want to see Doctor Manhattan."
"Man—" Her composure shattered. She grabbed his collar, yanking him close. "Who are you? How do you know about Doctor Manhattan?"
"So you do know him." Jack's eyes lit up. He made no move to break her grip, his smile widening. "Then we have plenty to discuss."
His fist drove into her lower abdomen.
She grunted, eyes rolling back, and collapsed into his arms. Jack bent, hoisted her over his shoulder, and bolted.
Broad daylight. Public street. Witnesses everywhere.
The crowd's shock lasted about two seconds before the shouting started. People gave chase, yelling about kidnappers and calling for police.
Lilah stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching her master disappear around a corner with an unconscious woman slung over his shoulder.
Master, you just... ran off. What am I supposed to do?