Cordelia hit the box with the directional controls. It jammed, as it did so often these days. She was glad today it didn't do so in a precarious situation, contrary to several other times.
"I need to fix you," Cordelia told the box that rattled ominously after a second slap. She lifted the cover of the box and peered inside. Cordelia knew that getting the directional control-box fixed was a priority on her list. It had been a priority for about a week now - or was that two weeks?
"I agree," Norbert said from the hidden speaker. The built-in system intelligence knew when to speak and when to be quiet. "I would advise you to go home and have a knowledgeable person look at it."
Cordelia glanced to the corner of the machine from where Norbert spoke to her. "Of course. You know what will happen then, don't you? They will be waiting for me, arrest me for stealing the unit and that other thing, and undo all the beautifications I added over time. And what makes you think I need a 'knowledgeable person'?"
"Beautifications..." Norbert's tone made it clear he didn't agree with her choice of words. "I told you before that the interior of this Space-Time Anomaly Replicator has been..."
"Yeah, yeah... defaced more than you care, I know. We've been there, remember? Now let me get this lever where it needs to go..." Cordelia leaned against the metal stick and pushed. The slight bend in the stick showed she had done this quite often, and also, as quite often, it clicked into place.
"Originally this was much easier," Norbert commented while Cordelia sat down in her seat and checked the controls.
"Don't give me that again," she growled. "We're going home. Well, not home home but the other one." She set the dials, tapped a series of coordinates onto a keyboard and pushed the button that simply said Go.
The display on her left, which had shown a large forest, went dark. All sounds stopped as if Cordelia had suddenly gone deaf. She knew the signs and waited for the slight tremor in her chair that told her the journey was over. The display stayed dark, which was normal since they were in the cellar of her current house. Sounds returned as the force field, that kept the STAR in one piece, fell away. At the same moment, the interior lights came on.
Cordelia reached for her purse and pulled out her trusty notebook. She wrote down the time and location she had just left behind. Keeping track of things was important in her business, which was one of a kind. Too bad this time didn't rely on sensible electronics but since they didn't exist yet, she had to conform to local standards. She considered it a lucky circumstance that she had very nice handwriting. After copying the information on a bit of lesser quality paper as well, Cordelia shut down the main systems.
"Here we are."
"I detect that one of your friends of ill repute is waiting at the front door," Norbert announced.
"Thank you for that." Cordelia got up and sighed. "That's Brown, which means I go back to the stiff corsets, the dresses and the hats."
"They suit you," Norbert commented.
"But they hinder me in moving. Jumpsuits are so much easier." Cordelia knew that wearing one of these suits would land her in police custody very quickly here, where she'd be facing lots of uncomfortable questions. "And you are a piece of software, Norbert, what do you know about fashion?"
Norbert replied, "My database contains everything there is to know on the subject, which is more than I can say about your head."
"And I want you to friggin' shut up." Cordelia froze for a moment. She sometimes slipped back into the person she'd once been, using the language from there. "I'm sorry. I would prefer if you were to remain silent on this subject."
Norbert didn't respond any more. Cordelia took her purse and walked through the STAR's door. "Oh. Norbert? Thank you for your help. Again."
"My pleasure, Cordelia."
She left the machine. From her purse, she took the remote control and locked the time-travel unit. After taking a deep breath, she climbed the stairs up to the actual house.
~
Cordelia hurried to change into some proper clothing for the time. Her adventures and exploits had provided her with ample finances but she tried to keep a low profile. So far she'd been safe here but there was always the risk that a 'policer' from the 23rd century would show up looking for her.
As the 3D-printed robot-arms, that she kept in her secret room, tied up her corset, she thought back to her old life in 2251. That still sounded odd to her because that was over 350 years into the future, but still, it was her old life. Time travel had become reasonably reliable by then, apart from the occasional accident with newer, experimental STAR models. The one in her basement was such an experimental type, battered and beaten up on the outside by now. And incomplete in many ways, but she hadn't had much choice.
"Not so tight, dammit," Cordelia muttered at the robot-arms. She never seemed to get the setting right. It was either just too tight, or it felt as if the corset was about to slide down her hips. Maybe she should just wear a belt around the corset instead of going through this laborious and time-consuming lacing up.
With the corset in place, she slipped into a comfortable dress, slipped the small bit of paper with location data in a sleeve and stepped into her favourite shoes. All dressed for the occasion and the time-period, she went to open the front door. As Norbert had noticed through the STAR's scanners, someone was waiting for her. The man didn't look distressed because of the waiting.
"Miss Lexington," he said, doffing a hat which had seen better times. "How nice to see you."
"Mr Brown." Cordelia always felt awkward addressing someone called Brown. She waited for the stare. Yes, there it was. Never failed. The tattoo on the side of her head had been a fabulous idea at the time, at home. Here it made everyone look twice, and most people felt uneasy seeing it.
"Did you... store it?" the man asked.
"I did." Cordelia took the sheet from her sleeve and handed it to him. "As you are well aware, this is important. Without this information, I cannot retrieve your goods." That wasn't exactly true but she liked to put the pressure on her 'customers' so they understood how important that was. They didn't need to know about her shadow-log.
As if the paper were pure gold, Mr Brown nodded and carefully slipped it into a large, thick and worn wallet. "Thank you, Miss Lexington. Always a pleasure. I may call on you in a few days to retrieve something."
"Of course. You are most welcome, Mr Brown." Cordelia didn't wait for the man to walk off before closing the door. With this transaction behind her, she was assured of some more funds in her account, which was a reason to celebrate. Her celebrations usually were limited to enjoying a glass of sherry, something she'd discovered in this age and she had developed a taste for it.
With her glass in hand, Cordelia walked to the conservatory in the back of her house and overlooked the small garden from a comfortable chair.
Soon her thoughts had transported her back to 2251, where she had been a Brown. Cordy Brown, from Lexington, Mississippi. Doctor Cordy Brown, a mediocrely successful temporal scientist working on the lower echelons of the STAR development team. Doctor Cordy Brown who, at all times, had more men come after her than she had fingers on both hands. Men she didn't want nor need.
If that idiot Monroe Branson hadn't come on so strong, she'd still be happy there. Maybe she would have had a promotion by now. Maybe even her own, small research department. So much could have happened in three years, and a lot had, just not in the way she had hoped or planned.
"Stop haunting me, Monroe Branson," Cordelia said out loud, hoping it would make a difference. The only thing that happened was that her mind served up the image of the dead body of Branson, two floors down, where his involuntary flight had ended after slipping on a narrow walkway. "You shouldn't have come after me. You were married, for crying out loud! And your fancy shoes were all wrong for the workshop floor." Cordelia couldn't remember how often she'd gone through this already. If only she could make it stop.
She decided she needed to occupy her mind with something. With a sigh, she looked at the dress she'd put on mere minutes ago. All that trouble for Mr Brown. With her sherry-glass in hand Cordelia went to her bedroom and changed into the comfortable jumpsuit again. Much better, even though that showed signs of wear. After that, she went back to the cellar, determined to take the directional control-box apart and make it work.
~
"Are you going to try it again?" Norbert had seen Cordelia take the box apart before.
"No trying. This time it's going to work," she said, twisting and pulling the top from the box. The last time she hadn't bothered to put the screws in. That saved a lot of time. Carefully she eased the cover-plate over the lever and put it aside.
"Yes." Norbert managed to make it sound like "No".
"I wish you knew how to do this instead of commenting on fashion," Cordelia said as she took a tool from a box.
"If you had not 'borrowed' this STAR unit so rapidly after the unfortunate demise of the research director, I would have known."
Cordelia loosened and removed several parts from inside the control box so she could see the spot where the lever went deeper into the system. "And your external cameras weren't online yet when it happened. Your footage would have made all the difference. Now let's see what's beneath this..."
More and more parts were evicted from the box until there were only the bottom and the lever going through the opening in it.
"I need more light..." she said. "Where did I leave that thing... Oh, right!" One of her scarce trips out into the world had taken her to 1999, where she had bought a flashlight and a lot of batteries. Ancient technology but it worked, and she didn't dare go back to her own time. There had to be a warrant for her arrest out.
As she walked out of the STAR to get the flashlight from a cupboard, Cordelia wished for the invention of electric light and an extension cord. It wasn't the first time, but this was 1875. Edison would take another four years before coming up with the first real lightbulb.
With the flashlight, she hurried back to the STAR. Because there wasn't much space inside the control-box it took her some juggling with the light but she managed to direct the beam down along the misbehaving lever.
Something down there glistened.
"What... the... hell..." Each space was accentuated by a push against the lever. "Oh no..." She got up and lowered the mirror. "Do you remember how I once lost a hairpin?"
"I assume you located it." Norbert sounded neutral, as so often.
"I did." Cordelia looked at the bottom plate of the control-box and wondered how she would get that hairpin out of there. The bottom was welded onto a frame. "I need tweezers..." This made for another trip to the cupboard.
"Right. Let's do this..."
Cordelia left a few drops of perspiration on the bottom of the control-box but in the end, she did get the hairpin out. It wouldn't be used for hair any more though. All her pushing against the lever had deformed the metal pin. After that bit of mechanical surgery, it was only a matter of time before she had reassembled the control-box to its original glory. The lever moved freely again.
"I think we need to test-drive this STAR," she announced. Norbert remained silent. It had learnt that objecting would make no difference. "Now where could we go..."