Foes and Rivals (The Saga of Nichole 5, Part Two)

By Clayton Barnett

After residing nearly a year in Portland, Nichole's life seems to finally settle down: with her classes, friends, and lover. But troubling rumors about secret deals between the City's master and the savage horsemen to the east reach her ears.

With her own skills augmented by her friends and allies, she sets plans into motion she hopes will thwart those in opposition to her dream of a peaceful future.

Once again denied a quiet, normal life. Nichole is forced to make hard, dangerous choices that will jeopardize her, her friends, and the survival of the City itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clayton Barnett
• Release date: Dec 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463113745

Book preview

Foes and Rivals

The Saga of Nichole 5, Part 2

By

Clayton Barnett

A Novel of Machine Civilization

Other Stories from Machine Civilization:

The Fourth Law

Echoes of Family Lost

Cursed Hearts

Friend and Ally

The Saga of Nichole 5: Part One

Henge’s Big Day!

an illustrated children’s book

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

+JMJ+

FOES AND RIVALS. THE SAGA OF NICHOLE 5 – PART TWO. Copyright  2018 by Clayton M. Barnett.

All rights reserved.

Cover Art By: Jacoby Alley (https://www.jacobyalley.com/)

Edited By: Monica San Nicolas (https://tinyurl.com/yaj7lm5b)

Special thanks to Larry Niven…

Never be embarrassed or ashamed by anything you choose to write.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Prologue

Without a word, Nichole walked slowly down the gangway to Ogishima in Tokyo Bay.

I’m home, she thought.

She ignored the controlled chaos all about her as the Singapore-registered bulk freighter unloaded its cargo of gypsum from Mexico-occupied San Diego, timber from Vancouver, Canada, and oil from Valdez, Alaska. She drew the usual complement of stares from the dockworkers. Seeing a passenger on a bulk ship was rare. That the passenger was a young woman with red-blonde hair and light skin was unheard of.

Making her way to the dilapidated but recently repaired office building, she let herself in. More stares from the men behind the desks.

Yes, Miss? one of them managed.

I need a taxi, please, she said in her Kansai dialect. I need to be at Chiyoda, soonest.

At the mention of the location of the Imperial Palace, no one moved. The man who had spoken glanced over his right shoulder.

Ito…?

On it, sir, the other man said, reaching for a phone.

Not a place frequented by cabs, she waited twenty minutes before its arrival. Without a word to the men in the office, she left and got in the back of the small car.

Hello! Chiyoda Park was it, Miss? the driver cheerfully asked.

Yes, she said quietly. The Imperial Household Agency. Main entrance. Please.

Wondering if his fare was either a VIP or crazy, the driver struggled to maintain his cheer.

Of course, Miss! Please sit back and relax!

They moved off to the northeast, passing through tunnels and onto bridges of the Metro Express Bayshore Route before turning north toward the city.

The City. She saw the fires in her memory.

Just two kilometers from her destination, she looked left at the spire: Togame Tower, its thin form one thousand meters high, capped with the massive crystalline light held aloft by an EM thruster.

I wonder, she mused, if in my absence, someone figured out why those work?

Miss? the driver asked, pulling in front of the IH Agency.

Thank you, she said, getting out on the right and taking a couple of steps to the driver’s open window. Nichole felt in the handbag over her shoulder. Her only luggage.

Here.

The driver was surprised to feel something cold and heavy pressed into his palm. A coin?

An ounce of pure silver, minted in the US over a hundred years ago. She looked over the taxi to the Agency building. I don’t need it anymore.

Th… thank you, Miss!

She paused only a moment before passing through the middle of the three doors. Nichole approached the older man in the dark grey suit behind the counter.

He watched her steady approach. Frayed hair, torn skirt, dirty blouse. There was something odd about her green eyes. Just a precaution, he moved his left hand to hover over the Security button. He gambled on her language.

he asked in good English.

she replied before returning to Japanese. I must see Her Imperial Majesty.

He pressed the button.

Aware that something had changed about her, Nichole spoke quickly and clearly.

I am Nichole 5 Clarke, she noted the arrival of four armed men from a door on her left. My Imperial Passcode is…

She rattled off what Togame had told her say whenever Nichole returned to see her. The armed men split, two behind her left and right, just out of reach.

For a human.

Surprised at what sounded like a legitimate code, he read it back to her, making one correction before tapping Enter.

It’s real? he breathed in astonishment. Who is this girl? Pushing that aside, he read the orders associated with this Passcode.

Will you allow me, Miss, a moment to summon an escort for you?

Of course.

She saw him look over her shoulders. The guards drew off.

A slightly younger man but in the same color suit escorted her out the back of the building and along a gravel path northwest through the woods in the direction of the Palace. He drew to a stop just before it.

Her Majesty has prior appointments for some time. It will be at least five hours before she can attend to you. There is a small office inside where you may wait…

I’d rather not. Offices were places of politics and occasional explosions for her. She pointed to a shaded bench. If you’ve no objections, I shall wait there. Please retrieve me and take me to Toga- Her Majesty when it is her pleasure.

That will be fine, he replied.

She noted the flick of his eyes as he moved off. Sitting, she followed where he had looked. Ah: a security camera trained directly on me. Of course.

She grew still except for the faked rising and falling of her chest.

Once more, after a hundred times already, she tried to think of how she could have done it all better. Once more, she could not.

There was a light touch onto her right shoulder. It was nearly dusk. Again, she cursed and thanked the Somi coder who made the fake ‘sleep’ routine for whenever she overtasked her processors. Nichole looked up and right, standing and bowing in a blur.

I’d thought we were friends and past all that, the Empress, Togame, said, taking Nichole’s hands and lifting her up.

My apologies, my Emp- er, Togame-chan! I’ve… I’ve…!

You look awful, Nichole, Togame said with concern. What happened?

Nichole blinked rapidly.

I failed.

She watched the Empress’s head fall a little then she felt herself being pulled down onto the bench. Togame’s hands never left hers.

Tell me, she implored, her eyes coming back up to Nichole’s. Tell me what happened?

Part I

Johnson

Chapter 1

I’m back! Nichole announced, walking through the front door of Mrs. Brunelli’s house. When John had told her that his mother lived in the west hills, Nichole thought he had literally meant the West Hills. Her house was, in fact, some miles south of the City, in the Briarwood neighborhood, sandwiched between the Tyron Hills, Lake Oswego, and the Willamette River. Built sometime in the late 20th Century, it had been well-maintained and was only one of two homes on the street which were occupied.

Hello? Nichole tried again. No sounds reached her acute hearing.

Sunday afternoon… too late for Mass… perhaps she’s fishing? Nichole spun about, departed, re-locked the door, and walked the eight hundred feet to the riverside.

Sure enough, she recognized Mrs. Brunelli’s stout form sitting on a small wooden pier. A shawl was draped over the shoulders of her light woolen sweater. Her lower legs, clad in faded jeans, dangled over the side, just above the water. A bucket was at her left and a small tacklebox at her right. A line from her pole stretched out into the water.

Not wanting to startle any potential catch, Nichole moved silently to kneel at the old woman’s right. A glance into the water in the bucket showed three fish.

Nichole! Nancy was happy to see the bright young woman that her youngest son was always on about. Everything go okay?

Yes. They may have been crying a little when I left, but I do not think I did wrong.

Of course not! Mrs. Brunelli shook her head emphatically. To have someone tell them their son died a hero, in defense of his friends? Sure, they’re sad he’s gone but at least it was with an honorable end! Were they the last?

Yes. From all of the deaths Nichole had witnessed at the Lewis and Clark Bridge, she’d had to wait nine months until the Smiths returned from checking their leased farms, far to the southwest, past Corvallis. A liaison officer of the Army had contacted her the night before, requesting she come along to tell her story. It was the last of the nineteen she had. She had been pleased to help bring solace to the families.

Did Billy, Nancy spoke of the liaison officer, have his ashes?

Yes, Nichole softly replied. Anyone who’d been exposed to the cannibals’ nerve agent had been burned after the battle.

Sensing her unease, the old woman removed her right hand from the fishing pole to pat Nichole’s hands, which were folded in her lap.

You’re doing the Lord’s work, dearie. Try not to let it get you down.

Nichole nodded once.

Thank you.

The faint spring sun was obscured by a low cloud. Nichole felt the old woman shudder a bit at the cold.

Mrs. Brunelli –

Tch!

Nichole dipped her head for a moment.

Apologies. Nancy? Are you warm enough?

Been in these parts just over a dozen years! I’m plenty used to the chill of Portland!

Yes. But each year, you get older…

Gee, thanks…

Oh. Nichole realized her accidental insult. Humans did not like to be reminded of their mortality.

However, I’m sure you’ve many years left! she tried.

Humpf! was her only reply. Nancy leaned back, pulling on the line. Got another!

Nichole waited while Nancy brought in the next fish. Moving it over the bucket, Nichole stood and deftly stuck her fingers into its mouth to remove the hook, then dropped the fish into the bucket.

Dinner and breakfast! Nancy announced, stowing her gear and standing. Sure you won’t join me for dinner?

No, thank you, Nichole replied. I need to get back to campus to review my notes for class tomorrow.

A bit of a lie. The notes in her memory were not going anywhere. But, cleaning up after eating was such a bother.

Of course, of course! Nancy said as they started back toward her house. She looked slyly out of the corner of her eye at Nichole.

And to see your boyfriend, too, I suppose!

Nichole was not designed to blush, but she would not have, anyway.

Yes. I like talking with Gil.

Chuckling, Nancy poked her elbow into Nichole’s ribs. No reaction, of course.

Just talking? I guess an Irish gal like you is a good Catholic, too! Saving yourself for marriage!

I’m neither Irish nor Catholic, she replied, spying the house just ahead up the hill. And we did try sex… once.

Sixty-six years old and a widow for twenty of them, with six adult children, Nancy knew a problem when she heard one.

You were a virgin? she asked lightly.

Um. Technically, Nichole thought. Yes.

And it hurt?

No.

Nancy quickly changed tack.

But you were unsure what to do?

Nichole stopped and stared at her.

How did you know?!

Nichole saw that same knowing smile on old Mrs. Brunelli’s face that Kathy had given her in the university pool’s locker room, so long ago.

And, in not knowing what to do, you did nothing?

Nichole dropped her head; her eyes on her feet. How does she know everything?

Yes.

And after that, your boyfriend made excuses for a hasty departure?

How do you know this?! she amplified, making the old woman take a step back.

My, my! Hit a nerve! Nancy shook her head, took a step and looked up to those emerald eyes.

Men… whether in the fields, on construction, or even out fishing, she raised her bucket for a moment, men like to know that they’re doing a good job. A little… er… encouragement from you…

She trailed off and began the short walk to her house.

A word to the wise is sufficient; right, Nichole?

Nichole had not moved. She took in what she had learned and thought very hard and fast.

I must see Gil!

Nichole? Nancy asked. As she turned there was a blur and rush of wind. She only caught a glimpse of the pretty young woman as she rounded the street corner, headed north at an all-out sprint.

Ah! Love! Nancy laughed to herself.

Nichole covered the not-quite seven miles from Nancy’s house to Portland State University in nine minutes. Arriving at the edge of the campus and a more populated area, she slowed her run to a pace that would be expected of a human. What few waves were directed her way she returned as she rounded the pub called Zom’s and was at her residence hall, the Stratford, just a moment later.

It’s meeeee! she called, running past the front desk. The young man with the rifle behind him was looking up as she entered the stairwell.

In her room, she went to the closet and squatted in front of her safe, her fingers blurred over the lock. She yanked both sides open and reached with her left of the small aerosol can and what looked like a smooth-topped syringe. Shooting 3 mL of lubricating foam into the syringe, she spread her legs and pushed it into herself.

There was a knock at the door.

Not now!

She closed the safe and stood, pulling up her panties. From the knock, it was obvious…

Yes, friend Mackenzie? she asked, opening the door.

Uh…

The grey ghost of her artistic friend who lived in the room just across the hall looked up through strands of her black hair. Mackenzie wore a light grey shirt with a dark grey cardigan and a long black skirt. Nichole had wanted to do something about her friend’s wardrobe, but had not yet made the time.

I… uh… thought maybe we could get dinner later…

Nichole grabbed her hands, provoking a shudder.

I’d love to! But, speaking of love, she let her eyes slide to the stairwell, I need to go have sex with Gil! Right now!

S…! Se…! The shaking was worse.

I might not be back tonight, so I’ll take a rain-check on that! Makes sense: we’re in Portland, right? See you!

Mackenzie was alone in the hall with her hands before her. She let them drop and plodded back into her room.

Wish I could have a hot boyfriend…

Although technically ‘off-campus,’ Gil’s apartment block was just a street to the northwest. It was occupied by all guys, but everyone knew the need for security: a man in a chair with a buzz-cut read a paperback on the front stoop, his revolver in a holster rotated for easy reach. He looked up at the sound of running feet.

Hey, Nichole! How’s things? Gil just got back –

Good, Bill! Leave us alone! Her shouted reply as she ran past him into the building.

Bill looked to where she just was.

Gil, you lucky ess-oh-bee…!

Gil looked up from his desk at the silhouette in his doorway. Like most everyone else, he left his door open for better air circulation. Oh. It was Nichole…

For only a moment, she regarded her boyfriend: lightly curled short hair that was nearly black, and dark grey eyes. He lithely stood, wondering at her dramatic entrance, to his height just over seven inches taller than her. A forest green tee shirt and shorts covered his lean, muscled form. The result of a dozen years as a swimmer.

She slammed the door behind her. With her right hand, she threw the bolt.

What’s going on…?

In one smooth motion, she had her top off. Nichole closed on him just as he stood, sliding her arms about his waist.

I want you… subtle sonics and undertones. She could feel his various involuntary reactions immediately, … so bad right now!

N… Nichole?

Tilting her head back, she hooded her bright eyes and parted her lips. Her body was pressed tight to his.

Her internal clock read 0023. She knew he was mostly asleep. But mostly asleep was also partially awake. She took him with her left and played until she got the reaction she wanted.

Oooo… Master! Again! she purred.

Gil awoke with a groan.

Woman! I am not from Havana! Give it a rest! He moved her hand away but did roll left to hold her. Until morning…

Her smile split her face and she closed her eyes tight to not let the emerald flash disturb her beloved’s sleep.

Thank you, Nancy and Kathy! My best night ever!

She had been a bit surprised that Gil had become amorous again around 0500. After, he rolled off her and fell back to sleep. At 0630, she quietly slid out of his bed and moved to the shower. With just cold water, she rinsed herself off, pleased to use his towel, the only one there. She first sniffed deeply, logging any new scents of him outside of her rapidly growing database. Getting dry, she detected a familiar smell: coffee.

Nichole walked out of the bathroom, naked but for the towel over her shoulders.

Good morning, Gil! He stood in the kitchenette with yesterday’s briefs on.

’Morning, Ni – He turned left from the small counter where he poured coffee into a black mug. Seeing her perched on the edge of his bed, fingertips just touching her knees pressed together, he remembered to lift the pot just in time.

You’re up early! Again! she laughed.

She just couldn’t ever stop.

I heard the shower; figured I’d see you back to your place.

That’s so nice! As a reward, you may watch me get dressed!

Sheesh! He took a drink and set his mug down before moving around her as she picked up her clothes scattered about the floor. Things had happened quickly last night. From a dresser, he pulled out some jeans and a tee shirt.

Aww! You’re not watching!

What didn’t I see of you last night?

True! She slid into her flats and stood by the door with her small purse. She waited while he laced on his boots.

Boots?

You never know when the militia is going to get called up these days. He walked up to her and reached past with his right. He unclipped the pistol holster from one belt and put it onto the one he wore now.

You didn’t use to carry all the time, she observed as he opened the door for her.

I never had something to protect before.

She said nothing but took his left hand once he finished locking the door. On the stoop out front three young men had already gathered at this early hour. It was obvious that two of them had just returned from a run. Seeing their housemate come out with Nichole, they all broke into applause.

Screw you guys! Gil muttered through his teeth, pulling Nichole after him.

As if you’d have the strength this morning! one of them yelled back in laughter.

It was only a block and a half to her dorm, the Stratford. She used the first part of their walk to consider what the guys had said.

Gil? Was I too loud last night?

He stopped suddenly.

The howling was over the top…

I stopped as soon as you told me…! she said quickly.

But everything else? He resumed walking.

Do… people like you, he gripped her hand, go into heat or something? I was starting to fear for my life around midnight!

I… had been made older about physical love. She tilted her head a little right, onto his arm. I am happy that you are happy!

They stopped once more at the base of the four stairs that led up into her building. Nichole wondered about the sigh he gave.

Nichole? Did you feel… I mean… did you enjoy…? He raised his right hand to his head. What I mean is –

Do I have tactile receptors down there? Yes, but the data is very new. Do I have a biologic’s imperative for sex? No.

She slid around his front to hug him, stopping just before she cracked anything.

Seeing you as you were… it made – and makes – me very happy! Bye-eee!

With a head bump against his chest, she turned about and bounced up the steps. A little wave and she was gone.

Gil turned his face to his home.

What am I doing?

…which is one of the many strengths of quantum computing in that it allows for both backward and forward chaining at the same time! Nichole knew she was eight minutes over. That’s a good place to stop for today!

She could tell from the looks of her three students that might not be the case.

Dammit! John said, tossing his pen. Just when it was getting good!

She considered.

If all of you don’t make me pay for it, how about an unofficial tutoring session at Zom’s around… she considered her other obligations, eighteen hundred?

The aura in the classroom seemed to go from red to blue. Nichole stowed what few things she’d taken out back into her bag.

You seemed perkier than usual, Teresa said, even for you. Sumthin’ good happen?

Nichole smiled at the only other girl in the class, the mutt who was both her student and her friend. And the daughter of the dictator-in-all-but-name of Portland, Mayor Johnson.

I had the most amazing sex with my boyfriend last night! And this morning, too!

The two guys froze in mid-stand. Sanjay Shah turned scarlet. Teresa’s head fell.

Not again… Nichole heard her mutter. Teresa stood.

You guys, shoo! She waved her right hand at them. She went to the window and waited until they were gone.

Another mistake?

Oh, yes.

Bad?

Not really; but don’t think those guys will not have that far and wide by nightfall.

Given all the noise I made in Gil’s room, I think that might already be the case.

Teresa whirled about.

And you don’t care?! A visiting student, then TA, now provisional professor, already shrouded in rumors and myths…!

Nichole turned back to the eraser board, looking at such basics that had led to Model One.

I was given a gift… to make someone I love very happy. She let her fingers linger on the words ‘forward chaining.’ How could I not use that gift?

Teresa sighed and stepped toward her. She grabbed Nichole’s left shoulder and gently spun her about.

Look, as your friend, I’m really happy for you, she began. As your student? That was very inappropriate! Your public and private lives are two separate things!

Nichole considered this, looking into the eyes of the multi-mixed race girl who’d grown up in a political household.

I am older, friend, Nichole lowered her head and bent slightly from her waist. I promise to do better!

Good! Teresa glanced at her watch. See ya’ in a few hours! You going back to the Miller for those dusty old books?

Nichole knew that someone growing up with much of the world’s knowledge available in a handheld could not possibly appreciate the desire to seek out non-digital data: a treasure trove to people such as her.

Yes. She allowed herself to touch Teresa’s light mocha cheek. Princess.

Stop it with that! I told you! she hissed through the smile tugging at the edges of her mouth.

Alone now, Nichole took a moment to update herself with what she’d just learned. She picked up her bag and made for the stairs down.

Having talked, well, bullied, she admitted to herself, her way into the Archives some months back, Nichole tore her eyes from the Latin-covered parchments and gently closed the codex. She carefully removed her non-woven lintless gloves and made her way up to the ground floor.

An early spring mist was about. The forty degrees F didn’t bother her, but she hoped they had a table inside. She’d long ago ceased letting Nike know she was coming. She wiped the cold mist from her face every few dozen yards, considering that odd man.

He’s not like me, but neither is he quite human. His smell is wrong: reminding me for some reason of the slain after combat. And, he knows things he has no business knowing. His friendly but aloof exterior – and his homosexual manners – both set customers at ease and on the edge of their seats all at once. The two times Nichole had access to a satellite uplink since the battle at The Dallas Dam had yielded exactly nothing about him.

A known unknown. I must be cautious.

Older from Teresa that a woman should be a little late, she leapt the three steps to the deck that surrounded Zom’s in a bound – there was no one outside today – and let herself in through the front door.

Ma’am, you are expected, the white-haired young man in a black shirt and pants said to her. A member