The Curse of Roberta's Purse, Chapter 9
Isis listened with interest as the men from the future discussed what was happening down below. She felt very comfortable in the Vulcan's arms, but knew she couldn't stay. Her human companion, she knew, had just affected his escape from the Enterprise brig cell and had called out to her telepathically, after quickly finding the transporter room, stunning the men present with his servo. As Isis quickly made her way into the room, she told him with her mind that there was not much time left. They had to return to the surface in order to scare the inhabitants out of the idea of this ridiculous arms race.
"I know, Isis." Seven said, scooping her up and setting the controls. "Don't worry. We will be gone before they get here."
They made it onto one of the transporter pads, dematerializing just as Kirk, Spock and McCoy raced into the room, too late to stop them.
As Seven and Isis made it back to their apartment, they found that they could relax for the moment. Seven carried Isis to the window, trying to collect his thoughts. Isis commented with her mind that this was a primitive era and Seven agreed aloud. He considered that something might have happened to the two agents who were assigned to divert the course of the warhead as he looked down at the busy street below. They were nice people on that starship from the future, but obviously ignorant of his mission here on this planet. They could not delay much longer. As Seven turned on his computer, Isis leaped onto one of the orange chairs near the concealed transporter entrance, regarding him quizzically.
Isis had enjoyed being held by the Vulcan from the future and sensed that there was something a little different about him; something she couldn't quite figure out. Perhaps he wasn't fully Vulcan, but a Vulcan/human hybrid. A true Vulcan would not have bothered to pet her, but she felt this Vulcan to be strangely drawn to her. She, however, knew that she had little time to speculate. She was also concerned about recent events on this planet, and wondered briefly as to who would be masquerading as the young Miss Lincoln this time. She was the only one who knew that Miss Lincoln had appeared in many forms. Isis, of course, remembered the original one fondly, and felt sad and disappointed that Seven had fired her for no apparent reason. Isis had decided to employ some of her planet's advanced technology to make sure that Miss Lincoln, in whatever form she took, would always be around for her to enjoy. While the original Miss Lincoln was in the other room watching the very puzzled police officers rematerialize after being accidentally beamed to the ship from the future, she had quickly morphed into human form and placed the sophisticated time travel device under the lining of Roberta's purse. It was also her way of insuring that she would have ample opportunity to find out more about female human beings in this primitive time frame, having not seen too many of her own gender. She knew she couldn't tell Seven of her plans for the device. He would have stopped her.
This time, Claudia found herself to the entrance to Seven's apartment. She turned the knob on the door and let herself in. Smiling, she decided to say Roberta's lines word for word just for fun as she stepped to the closet to hang up her cape. She briefly looked down at the funky little purse dangling from her arm, wondering how and why it had caused so much trouble during the past or next forty-plus years.
"Hello? Anybody here?" She smiled as she opened the closet. "Looks like your lucky day, Roberta. They can't dock you if they don't know you're late."
She heard another door open, and turned to see Mr. Seven eyeing her irritably.
"Where have you been?" He asked gruffly.
"Oh, the subway got stalled." Claudia answered smartly.
"Where have you been during the last three Earth days?"
Claudia knew that he thought she was one of his agents, but decided to continue her masquerade. She had viewed the Star Trek episode at least ten times before opening that infernal little purse again, this time knowing the episode as well as Peter had. She knew that their lives and the future of her country depended on it.
"Now wait a minute. Why should I tell you? Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Supervisor 194, code-named Gary Seven. Where is 347?"
"With 348?"
"201, code responses are not necessary. I must say you play your role well. Sit down and give me a report of your whereabouts for the past three days."
"A report? I don't know what you mean." She answered, not so truthfully this time, complying with his request, setting the little orange purse on the desk in front of her.
He impatiently gestured towards the electric typewriter. This time, she was prepared for its extraordinary attributes.
"Type a report of everything you have done for the last three Earth days!" He handed her a sheet of paper and she inserted it into the typewriter as he turned it on. She began to type like a normal person. "Not with your fingers!"
"Now how do expect me to type, with my toes?"
She feigned astonishment as the typewriter began to type everything she just uttered. "Did you see that? The machine typed everything I…It's typing everything I'm saying! Where did you get this thing? It's incredible!" She knew that her words deviated from the episode, but she didn't want to be the little savage that the real Roberta had been. She truly liked this gadget and didn't want to damage it. Seven wasn't about to take any chances with his sophisticated equipment. He turned it off and called for the computer to scan her.
"Computer, scan the unidentified female present."
"Roberta Lincoln. Race: human. Employed by agents 201 and 347. Identifying characteristics: small mole on left shoulder…somewhat larger star-shaped birthmark on her upper right buttock. Although her behavior appears erratic, she possesses a high I.Q."
Mr. Seven knew now that he had made a mistake. She was not an agent but a civilian. However, he could not let her go, knowing that she had obtained knowledge about who he was. Also, judging by how calmly she reacted to the advanced technology, he thought of her now as a security risk. He quickly locked the doors and aimed his servo at her. Claudia now knew that he meant to hold her against her will and that she was now his prisoner.
"Look, friend. Maybe I just better call the police right now." She considered lying to him by telling him that she had a can of mace in her purse, but then wondered if women from this era carried the stuff around with them. She decided that they probably did not. She reached for the phone, about to dial 9-1-1. She suddenly heard a female voice from behind, telling her that the emergency service would not be available for at least another decade. She turned and saw Isis in human form, who smiled at her, knowing who she really was and welcoming her back.
