TMA: Agent Susan

Author's note: This story is part of a loosely connected series of stories inspired by Slyc_Willie in a thread on Lit's Authors Hangout. Read Slyc's TMA stories for a background on the Temporal Management Agency.

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"It seems to me, that as employees of the Temporal Management Agency, we ought to be able to make this slow week go faster," sighed Susan. Susan was a long time agent of the TMA. She was very good at what she did and took great pride in the fact that twenty years before, she had been their first female agent. Women had not been encouraged to seek employment here.

Early on, when the science of time travel was new, there was a fear that time travel would disrupt women's delicate sensitivities, maybe even disrupt their cycles; fear of the unknown kept women from seeking this career. Fear of a disrupted woman, kept TMA management from considering them for the job.

Susan was young and aggressive, with the whole world laid out before her. She had always yearned to try non-traditional things. Her affinity for math and science opened many doors for her. The science of time travel was just too interesting to pass up. She was fortunate in that the manager with which she interviewed was recently divorced, this probably influenced his decision to hire a woman.

When she started out, the small group of older men were thrilled to have her on board. Sure, they took down a few "tool" calendars, but working next to the tall, blonde 23-year-old more than made up for it. They were already a close-knit bunch, and welcomed her in. They mentored her and shared their knowledge; she quickly became a competent and efficient time travel agent.

As her career blossomed, she gained more influence and power to direct which areas were to be studied and directed. Naturally, she was interested in feminist issues. Her research had led her to learn about a splinter group of the Mortal Minority. She suspected this splinter group, the Rectifiers, sought to reverse the sexual revolution. She believed their goal was to eradicate the strides in science and research into sexuality made in the 20th century.

To date, they had attempted to impregnate Margaret Sanger, discredit Clair Booth Luce and castrate Larry Flint. "What else could they possibly be up to?" she wondered.

As she considered, the phone rang. It was the observation center. "Elders," Susan spoke sharply into the phone.

"Susan, this is Stephen in observation, we have detected a time jump originating from the Rectifiers."

"Where are they headed?" Susan demanded.

"St. Louis, 1964," came the reply.

"Okay, here is what I need you to do," Susan began. "Get two travelers here now, have them gear up. Send what information you have to Research and see if they can get us a list of potential targets."

"On it," came the reply.

"Thank you. Call me back and let me know which travelers are available today. I am headed down to Research, so leave me a message there." Susan stood up, but before heading out of her office, she glanced at some of her notes. "Oh hell," she said to herself, as she realized the likely target.

Susan headed down the stairs to Research. They had already been alerted and briefed and were narrowing down the list of possible targets. The call from observation came. "We have two agents ready for travel," reported Stephen, "Kahn, and Brooks." Susan smiled at the news, these two were the cream of the current crop.

"Send them both," she ordered. If the target was who she suspected, she wanted to be certain to stop the Rectifiers plot. "Check references for Masters and Johnson," she requested the nearest researcher.

"Yes and yes," the young woman in spectacles replied. "Masters and Johnson set up a clinic in St. Louis, they were there in 1964."

"Send the details and the coordinates to the launch room, I will brief the travelers," Susan said as she headed for the nearest empty desk.

A few hours later, the team returned, victorious. The Rectifiers had planned to set off a bomb in the clinic, not only ridding the world of Masters and Johnson and their research, but also precipitating a rash of clinic bombings for political reasons.

Susan sat back in her leather chair, satisfied with the days work. Looking at the clock, she noted the day was done. She was more than ready to go out and enjoy her weekend, but before she did, she stood up and walked over to the door to her office. She closed and locked the door, then went back to her desk. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the shiny sphere.

She held the orgasmatron in both hands, then reached with one painted nail to flick the "on" switch.