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A Spider Sat Beside Her

Page 11

by K E Lanning


  She narrowed her eyes and, with a quick motion, pinched his arm. “In the real world, stuff gets bruised, bit, and stung. The Garden grows and dies, and though it exists in space, it’s alive.”

  He rubbed his arm where she pinched him. “My bruises in virtual space may not be blue, but they still hurt in my mind.”

  Lowry shook her head. “Sevy, you’re good at playing games, so let’s play one.” Pointing at him, she asked, “What would happen to you if somehow you became trapped in a virtual world and could not return?”

  Sevy shrugged. “I would get tired and fall sleep, and then I’d wake up and start again.”

  “No, Sevy, you would die, because you are a biologic creature—you need water, air, food . . . and love. That is why your addiction to a virtual world will lead you nowhere except into a dark empty hole.” She waved back into the darkness behind them. “For players like you, this is no different than being hooked on drugs.”

  Sevy’s lips were tight, and he refused to meet her gaze. “I wish I was an android.”

  “That’s ridiculous—you are a human being.” She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. “You can’t push a button and make bad things go away; you have to fight through the agonies life throws at you.” Lowry clenched her teeth. “If you take the easy road of fantasy, you will never push yourself to the breaking point and find the cracks in your psyche.” She stared vacantly beyond him. “After you’re shattered, you pick up the shards of your humanity and rebuild them into the person you were meant to be, warts and all.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Nick half-heartedly waved at his brother’s big grin as Duff walked into the café. He had asked Duff to meet at a diner on the outskirts of town—less chance of being overheard. Nick concentrated on drinking his coffee to avoid seeing Duff’s phony smiles to a few of the patrons as he worked his way to Nick’s table. Duff approached the table, and noticing a hard edge to his eyes, Nick almost regretted the meeting.

  They were brothers in name only. Even as children growing up in Scotland, Duff and he had never gotten along. Years ago, desperate for work, Duff had contacted him, and Nick had found him a temporary job on a crew exploring the subsurface of the new continent, assuming he would return to the States when the project was completed. But Duff enjoyed the rough and ready life of the mining station, staying when a political post became available, and didn’t seem fazed that his wife and daughter were still back in the States. But after the tragic death of Margaret, Duff decided that Lowry should come live with him in Antarctica.

  Lowry’s arrival was unexpected joy for Nick, who had been unaware as to the depth of his loneliness. With his newfound political career, Duff had little time for the child, so Nick found himself “adopting” Lowry, pouring his love into the child as she grew up. She was a bright child and full of life; she took to nature with both hands, and they had spent time hiking and riding together, exploring the new land of Antarctica.

  Duff pulled out a chair and sat, his politician grin still plastered on his face. “What’s up, brother?”

  Nick fiddled with the saltshaker. “You’re aware that Lowry sent me the coordinates of the laser transmission?”

  Duff nodded, but his smile faded into the scrim of his still face.

  “After I found the camp of the suspects, I contacted the local police chief, but he said the US had taken over the investigation.” Nick grimaced. “Then I was interrogated by the feds on the attack of the space station as if I was a suspect.” He glanced at Duff and whispered, “Not only that, I found some evidence, and they’ve confiscated it.”

  “It’s evidence for the case. Of course they took it,” Duff replied with a frown.

  “Perhaps, but it’s the way they did it—and why are the US agents involved and not the UN?”

  “Apparently, the US agents have expertise, so the UN asked them to lead the investigation.”

  “The feds haven’t said anything to you?”

  Duff snorted. “I’m just the regional commissioner—why would they talk to me?” He drummed the tabletop. “The only communication I had with them was to get the videos from the drones.”

  “Lowry mentioned the drones, and I told that to the feds. Did they tell you whether the perpetrators were on the video?”

  “After they returned the chips, they told my office there was nothing on the videos.”

  “Yeah, now there’s nothing on them.” Nick rubbed his chin. “I’m worried that Lowry may have inadvertently gotten involved in something.”

  Duff twisted his mouth, staring at Nick. “Both of you need to quit playing detective and leave this alone. This has nothing to do with us, Nick.” A scar of a smile flicked onto his face. “Life teaches us to endure—something I learned on Daddy’s knee.”

  Nick shot a glance at Duff and then stared at the top of the table. The disquiet of the past slammed into his head with flashes of their father’s drunken rages. Duff was the eldest and had taken the brunt of the beatings while their mother shielded little Nick in her arms. Duff rarely missed an opportunity to stir up the dark past of the family. The sounds of screams and blows still meandered into Nick’s dreams.

  Swallowing hard to push the memories down, Nick absently swept crumbs from the table with his hand. He exhaled, narrowing his eyes at Duff. “Let the past lie and stick to the present.”

  “‘Let the past lie.’ That’s a truth if there ever was one,” Duff growled.

  Two men sat at a table next to them.

  Nick’s voice dropped. “All I’m saying is that this investigation doesn’t smell right.”

  “You’re as bad as Lowry, believing conspiracy theories.” Duff replied in a matching tone, pointing his finger at Nick. “I’m up for reelection, so I really don’t want to get involved in this mess.” Then his face brightened. “But the good news is, my opponent can’t get any coverage—the local news is dominated by the investigation.”

  With pursed lips, Nick raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that is good news.” He darted a look around the café, which was now becoming crowded. “Let’s take a walk.”

  They strolled out to the park nearby and sat on a bench. Nick turned to Duff. “I read that the US Attorney has brought charges on the ISS attack against an Inuit leader who happens to be negotiating treaty renewals with Amerada. With the treaties in limbo, the Eskimos are angry that thousands of people from the south have been squatting on their lands.” He rubbed his chin. “My gut tells me these charges may be a part of a land grab.” Nick stared vacantly in the clear blue waters of the bay. “The world’s chess board has been overturned after the Melt—power is shifting as fast as the sea level.”

  Duff shrugged. “I try to keep my head down and stick to my own business, but I’ll admit there seems to be something devious happening behind the scenes.” He pretended to turn knobs and pull cranks. “Remember the old line, ‘Don’t pay any attention to the man behind the curtains.’”

  “What I can’t understand is how they would get away with it legally.”

  Duff guffawed. “The good old days of the United States being a pillar of justice were washed away with the floods. Chaos creates a vacuum, which will get filled, either by—God forbid—that rare, honest politician, or most often, a political charlatan only out for power. And I should know.” He cocked his head. “In this brave new world of the United States of Amerada, the leaders assembled an airtight oligarchy—all nicely labeled with ‘Democracy’ airbrushed on the outside.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Lowry’s hands trembled as she closed her suitcase. Any other opportunity to leave the confines of the space station would be welcome, except to be a witness at this trial. She looked at the clock. Perhaps time enough for a quick walk in the Garden before the dreaded trip to New York?

  She sprang through the doors to her Eden, trying to shake her nervousness. Her steps slowed as she strolled along the path, inhaling the air steeped in the organic scent of earth. She moved past the towering rack of produce and smiled at
rows of ripe melons facing the center of the Garden, resembling crowds at a stadium.

  A flock of chickens wandered across the trail, and Lowry grinned at a procession of clucking fowl scratching and pecking their way through the Garden. After the hens passed, she ambled down the trail past the freshwater lake. Bees buzzed in and out of the tulips near the bank, and the swans glided across the still water. Under the warm sun, the tension of the last several days slipped away.

  As she neared the orchards, the smell of ripening fruit filled the air. At the edge of the apple trees, she hesitated, puzzled at the sight of Adam hidden behind the branches of an apple tree, gaping at something in the distance.

  She walked up behind him, softly calling his name. “Adam?”

  He jumped at her voice but then turned to her with a peculiar look on his face, pointing in the direction in which he had been so intently gazing. She moved to where he had been standing and peered through the limbs of the tree.

  In front of them stood a huge apple tree, heavily laden with apples, branches stretched toward the ground—shadowing two naked bodies writhing beneath them. Lowry’s mind was in a tangle of guilt for observing their erotic act, but she could not turn away, staring from her hiding place at a white male with his arms wrapped around a black female arching up to him. The dappled light through the leaves played upon the contrast between the dark and light of their skins as they combined like an exquisite variegated flower.

  In the throes of passion, they were unaware of being observed. A programmed breeze drifted past them, lifting the veil of tree limbs from the lovers. The branches parted, and the sunlight penetrated the shadows, revealing the man’s face—Edward. Lowry gasped, taking a step forward, and then her eye caught a metallic sheen on the leg of the woman.

  Lowry blinked in disbelief at the double betrayal under the apple tree—Edward was making love to her friend Zoë. The blood drained from Lowry’s face as she turned away from the carnal scene, placing her hand over her mouth. She stood still, staring vacantly at the ground, with the sensation that her heart was tumbling to her feet, wrenching her insides on its way down, like a ball pinging its way down a pinball machine.

  Then her shock was swept away by a rush of fury, and she glanced up at Adam with her hands clenched and her face twisted in rage. He shrugged and crooked his head toward the lovers—then handed her an apple.

  Lowry’s eyes brightened as she grabbed the apple and quickly gathered more from the ground. She leapt from behind the branches, running toward the entangled couple and hurling the apples into the midst of their ecstasy.

  The first lob hit Edward on his perfectly sculpted back.

  “What the hell?” he yelled, jerking his head around in time to meet the next shot in the forehead. “Shit!”

  The lovers peeled apart like cold water had been thrown on them. Edward fell backward into the trunk of the tree, his skin scraping against the rough bark, while Zoë twisted away from Lowry, hiding her nakedness.

  Lowry aimed one at the back of Zoë’s head and then stopped in mid-arc, palming the apple. Staring at her, she exhaled and shook her head. “I thought we were friends, Zoë?”

  Zoë held her arms across her breasts and turned back to face her. At the sight of Lowry, her mouth dropped open.

  “Lowry!” Then she sat up, crying as she gathered up her clothes, and said, “I’m so sorry, Lowry—I don’t know how this happened.” Sobbing, she scrambled away, disappearing through the underbrush.

  Edward jumped up and faced Lowry, his arms outstretched. “Look, baby, what can I say . . .”

  Lowry gazed down at the apple she had in her hand and bounced it up and down, determining her target.

  “Now, honey,” Edward said, backing up until the sharp branches of the apple tree poked into his naked skin. Grunting, he thrust his hands backward.

  Like a pitcher at the mound, Lowry quickly threw the last apple at Edward—a strike to his exposed groin.

  He fell to the ground, writhing and clasping his shrunken manhood. Edward screamed hoarsely, “Goddammit, Lowry!”

  Lowry yelled back, “You son of a bitch!” She looked around for another apple but stopped at the piteous look on his face.

  “Lowry, stop!” Edward croaked out, groaning in pain.

  In a daze, she turned and fled down the path, furious with her supposed friend Zoë, her supposed boyfriend Edward, and herself for being a sucker. Tears streaming down her face, she ran blindly until she stumbled over a rock and fell to the ground. Lowry pushed onto her knees, growling as she ripped the grass and threw the shreds into the air. Then she pounded the ground with her fists, shaking her head like a bull ready to charge.

  “Goddamn assholes!”

  Lowry stared down at the ravaged patch of grass and sat down to catch her breath.

  Soulmate, bullshit. Breathing hard, she fumed at the thought of novels spewing garbage about finding “the love of your life” when the reality of it is that most of the time, the male of the species will basically do and say anything to procreate. Isn’t that what all the biology textbooks tell us? Do we imagine that we humans are different just because we want it to be so?

  Lowry became aware of a pair of legs next to her. Embarrassed, she wiped her eyes and glanced up into Adam’s concerned face looking down at her.

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  She turned away, still grasping blades of grass in her hand. Like a child, she murmured, “No.”

  He knelt and took her hand until Lowry looked back at him, her lips quivering. Then Adam smiled innocently. “Yes, Edward is quite a man, Miss Lowry—I have seen him many times in the Garden.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Many times?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, many times. He likes the ladies, you see.”

  Lowry ground her teeth and hissed, “So Zoë was not the only one.”

  Adam helped her up and brushed the dirt and grass off her clothes. He smiled and continued matter-of-factly, “Oh no, Miss Lowry, he likes the ladies, you see.”

  She was dumbfounded for a second, and then her anger smoldered up once again, and she looked around for something else to tear up. She saw the worry in Adam’s face that she might destroy more of his plants, and she giggled. Then she couldn’t stop laughing—her legs gave out, and she sank to the ground, lying on the carpet of grass and holding her sides as her body shook, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

  Her sides ached when she finally was able to stop chuckling. “What an idiot I have been!” She leaned back into the grass and became vaguely aware that Adam had left.

  Ancient coastlines vanished under the rising sea, flooding the historic seaports of the world. Death and destruction rippled around the world: Calcutta, Shanghai, Miami, New York City, Los Angeles, Venice, Bangkok, Tokyo, and the Netherlands, all drowned.

  “My baby—help her, save her!”

  CHAPTER 16

  Lowry felt drained as she stepped onto the shuttle, still shaken up from her “peaceful” morning stroll in the Garden. With a sigh, she slumped into the seat and buckled herself in while disappointment and anger clanged around her mind. To ease her nervousness, she flicked open a magazine on her tablet but found herself staring at the words, unable to make any sense of them.

  The last of the passengers found their seats. Edward was among them. She snapped the tablet shut as he glanced around, looking for her. Avoiding his eyes, she leaned back in the seat and pretended to be asleep. She couldn’t deal with another confrontation with him—one in a day was plenty. Breathing deeply, she tried to relax while the crew went through the departure procedures.

  The shuttle popped away from the ISS and began the descent to terra firma. Lowry drummed her fingers on the armrest, only vaguely aware of the stunning image of the Earth outside of her window. A passenger behind her commented on a typhoon on its way toward Japan, and she gazed down at the swirling mass of white clouds. Beautiful at this height, but deadly if you were in its path.

  Lowry chewed the i
nside of her mouth; here she was, headed to the capital of Amerada to give her testimony at the “Trial of the Century,” as it was now being called. She had hoped her deposition would be enough, but, perhaps in desperation, the defense team had insisted that she be called as a witness and have the jury directly hear her story. She had been the inadvertent recipient of the virus and was the only connection between the perpetrators and the attack on the station. Lowry rubbed her temple, trying to ease a blossoming migraine. She wasn’t even sure whose side she was on—if either one.

  After the shuttle landed, Lowry waited until Edward disembarked before exiting the craft. She strolled through the terminal, exhaling with relief that he was nowhere in sight.

  Grabbing a cab from the airport to the hotel, she headed into the “new” Washington D.C. The Robocab scooted down the road, and Lowry gazed out of the window, amazed at the construction crews running amok like ants rebuilding a nest after a flood. Realtors were making fortunes building new high rises and moving tenants away from the rising oceans. Capitalism at its finest.

  When the extent of the sea level rise was clear, Congress had carved out new boundaries for the District of Columbia west of the old Washington D.C. limits, and with herculean effort and billions of dollars, they had moved the White House, the Capitol building, and most of the historic buildings westward to higher ground. The Washington monument had been elevated and now stood like the Statue of Liberty, surrounded by the sea and assaulted daily by tour boats packed with sightseers.

  Lowry arrived at her hotel and walked to the front desk to check in.

  The clerk handed her the key card for her room and then said, “Oh wait, Ms. Walker, I almost forgot; I have a message for you.” He handed her a small envelope with her name on the outside.

 

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