A Spider Sat Beside Her

by K E Lanning

  She glanced at her name on the envelope and blinked; it looked like Uncle Nick’s scrawled handwriting. She put it in her pocket. “Thanks very much.”

  Picking up her bag, she walked into an open elevator and pushed the button for the floor of her room. As the elevator started up, she pulled the note from her pocket, and her heart beat a staccato as she opened it.

  Meet me at Mary’s Café near the Washington National Cathedral at two p.m. today. Nick.

  A seductive voice came over the speakers. “I believe this is your floor.” The door to the elevator was open.

  “Yes, thanks, just a moment.”

  Lowry grabbed her bag, hurried off the elevator, and then stopped and looked at the note. She reread it, glancing from side to side as if someone were watching her. She tore it up and dropped it into the trash can next to the elevator. Her keycard guided her to her room and opened the door for her, and she heaved a sigh as the door shut behind her. She dropped her bag on the dresser and sat on the bed to think.

  Through all of this turmoil, she hadn’t heard from Nick in weeks, and now he was in Washington, D.C.? Edward had mentioned Nick had been questioned during the preliminary investigation, but had he been called for further interrogation or as a witness, just as she had been? It was odd and unlike Nick to not let her know that he was going to be here.

  What was going on?

  She sighed and went to the window, high above the city, and stared out at the shoreline. Underneath the waves were tops of buildings—the few that hadn’t been knocked down by the floods or bulldozers. In portions of the historic district of D.C. that were not completely drowned, water taxis cruised down the submerged boulevards, which became a new Venice after the Melt.

  Lowry glanced at her watch—it was a quarter to two. She ordered a cab and then went down to the street and got into the Robocab. “Mary’s Café near the Washington Cathedral, please.”

  Soon, she saw the sign for Mary’s Café, and the Robocab stopped. She waved her Mcard across the reader in the door.

  A melodious voice said, “Thanks, and have a nice day.”

  Pulling on her jacket, she walked up the sidewalk, and her heart leapt at the sight of Uncle Nick in the window of the café. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how much she had missed seeing someone she cared about and who she knew loved her. He beamed at her and gestured for her to come in. He jumped up when she reached the table, hugging her fiercely.

  He pushed her back and gazed at her. “It’s so good to see you, Lowry! It’s been months!”

  Lowry chewed her lip, looking at the tension on his face. “How are you doing, Nicky?”

  His face clouded as he looked away. “I’ve been better.”

  “I know what you mean,” Lowry said with a sigh. She scooted into the booth and commented, “This looks like a really old place.”

  “Yes, it’s an old-style diner.” He shot a glance at her. “A good place for a quiet conversation.”

  The waitress came and took their order.

  After she left, Lowry leaned forward and whispered, “What’s going on, Nick?”

  He kept his face placid, but in a worried tone, he asked, “Lowry, have you gotten any of my messages?

  She shook her head. “No, apparently there was a quarantine of messages in or out of the ISS.”

  “I figured something like that may be the reason you didn’t respond.” Nick turned on the old-timey radio in the booth and then leaned forward with a tight smile. In a thin voice, he murmured, “Conspiracy.”

  She blinked as she absorbed his response. He was acting like they were being watched. Matching his calm face, she asked quietly, “What do you mean? And were you called as a witness?”

  He shook his head. “Not called as a witness, but they asked me to give an encore presentation of my deposition directly to the Attorney General.” Their meals arrived, and he pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

  Lowry nodded; the rest of the story would have to wait.

  During lunch, they chatted about friends at the mining station and how her animals were faring without her. After they finished eating, Uncle Nick stood up and shouldered his backpack, cocking his head toward the park. They left the café and walked silently along the sidewalk until they came to an empty park bench. He gestured to the bench, and they sat down.

  Nick stared straight ahead, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “I went to the spot where the OPALS file was transmitted, and I found a campsite. I dug into the campfire and found some evidence buried on top of the coals.” Nick rubbed his chin and stooped forward. “Lowry, I found a piece of evidence that points to a Colombian tribe that may be protesting a power company that is forcing their way onto the tribal lands.”

  He glanced around and then dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it up and tapped the screen, and up popped a hologram image. Lowry stared at the image, trying to grasp what she was looking at. It resembled a dart, with delicate, white, cotton-like material on one end and what was left of a point on the other.

  Squinting at the shimmering hologram, she turned to Nick. “What is it?”

  “It’s a dart that is used with a blowgun in the Amazonian jungles, and I found it thrown into the campfire along with the carcass of a grouse. The dart must have been broken and then discarded by the suspected saboteurs of the space station. The investigators took the actual dart from me, but I had taken detailed photos of it at the campsite.”

  Lowry took the phone in her hands and twirled the image of the dart around as Nick continued. “All evidence points to this being a dart from a South American tribe. I also had wisps of the seedpod material still in the zipper of my backpack. I sent the hologram and the plant material to a colleague of mine who is an expert in South American tribes—she confirmed that it was made by Colombian natives. She also told me that these Amazonian tribes are usually a nonviolent people, and any aggression, such as this attack on the ISS, would be very uncharacteristic.” Nick shrugged. “Perhaps the shutdown of the space station was done by some extreme individuals and not condoned by the leaders.”

  Nick leaned toward her, tapping his finger on her arm. “The kicker is, a miner from Colombia bugged out just hours after the transmission of the message. I searched his room and found a newspaper clipping of a tribe in Colombia who had threatened a mass suicide back in 1998 to protest oil extraction in the region. And that same tribe is protesting the construction of the new power plant in their tribal lands.”

  Lowry knitted her brow for a second. “What was the date?”

  He told her. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes widened, and she turned to Nick. “The number 1998 flashed on my screen just before the power went out on the ISS.”

  He leaned back and scratched his head. “Well, blow me down. It sounds like they were making a statement, though it’s odd they haven’t claimed responsibility for it.”

  “If it was only a few radicals, perhaps the leaders of the tribe found out and stopped them from claiming the deed, so as to not give the government an excuse to condemn the whole group.”

  Nick slumped back onto the bench with his shoulders bowed as if the weight of the world was on them. Lowry glanced at Nick. Is that gray creeping into his auburn hair?

  He stared at the ground, and his mouth twisted. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, waiting for the second shoe he was on the verge of dropping.

  Nick exhaled and then cocked his head toward her, clearing his throat. “Lowry, my meeting with the Attorney General was eye-opening, to say the least. During my deposition, Halder laughed when I told him my theory as to the perpetrators.” His voice dropped into a whisper. “I think the investigators are covering up any link between the Colombian tribe and the shut-down. They are determined to pin the space-station incident on the Inuit tribes.”

  He fell silent as a couple with a baby in a stroller walked by. Leaning toward her, he continued, “I hate to say this, but I have a feeling that the Amer
adan government has an ulterior motive to discredit them in order to force a turnover of land rights. The Melt has allowed access to virgin lands and raw materials, including massive diamond mines, and the corporate oligarchies are salivating.” He shook his head. “And millions of displaced people want to move north, away from the submerged coastal lands. They’re hungry for territory.”

  Lowry swallowed hard. “You think the US is simply using this incident on the space station to their advantage and is hiding the evidence that points to the real culprits?”

  Nick pushed his hair back and sighed. “Yes. And if it’s true, I’m afraid that we’re in the midst of a political maelstrom, and unless we blow the way the government wants us to blow, we’ll be in the teeth of it.” He spoke in a strained voice—a chilling tone that Lowry had never heard from him before, “Halder has no concept of honor or justice.” Nick bit his lip, staring into the distance. “He’s a man with cold, dead eyes, a lover of power and without compassion. A dangerous combination.” He turned to her, staring into her eyes. “I want you to fully understand who you’re dealing with.”

  Lowry stared into Nick’s anxious eyes, realizing his worry was for her. Unconsciously, she drew her hand away from his arm and tapped her teeth with a closed fist. Her voice shook as she whispered, “So you believe the feds will do anything to hide the real evidence?”

  Nick nodded slowly. “I think they realized they had a brilliant opportunity to take out the Inuit protesters by accusing them of the crime and thereby tying up their land rights issue in court, possibly for years, while the trickle of settlers into their territories goes on. And I’m certain this would send a not-so-subtle message to all of the other Eskimo tribes that, if they protest the invasion, they’ll be subject to the wrath of the federal government.”

  Lowry chewed her lip, letting Nick’s words sink in. Nothing like a lovely political vise to get trapped in. Exhaling, she asked Nick, “What do you think I should do? If there is sketchy evidence accusing the Inuits or the Colombians, either case might be a coin toss. And if you’re right, the DOJ only wants the Inuit side up.”

  Nick pursed his lips. “The defense wants you as a witness for their side, to bolster the case that the sabotage file could not have been from the Inuits.” He shrugged. “With the clamp on the Colombian evidence, I doubt they know about other possible suspects.”

  “I’m supposed to see the defense lawyer after my meeting with Halder.”

  Nick took her hand and pressed it gently. “You don’t have to tell her about the Colombian possibility. There is very little evidence, and what there is would be considered circumstantial.”

  Lowry leaned back, gazing out at the manicured grounds until her eye was drawn to a large flagpole in the center of the park, where the new Ameradan flag snapped in the breeze. A group of laughing children played chase at the base of the flag, surrounded by their parents—all innocent of the ominous symbol flying over their heads.

  A barking dog chasing a chipmunk ran past them, followed by a frantic woman. “Tursan, come back!”

  Nick watched the dog and woman disappear in the trees and then whispered, “Lowry, I don’t want to frighten you any more than what you already are, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to go back to the space-station; maybe the interruption of power was just a test. There could be more radicals in the tribe who aren’t going to behave.” He shook his head. “I have a gut feeling that there may be more to come.”

  Lowry’s mind was too jumbled to add another layer of panic. She looked at him with a shrug. “Perhaps the warning was all they wanted, and anyway, the station has blocked external transmissions coming in.” She shook her head. “The feds have hinted that you and I are also under suspicion—if I don’t go back, don’t you think their case against us might be bolstered?” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the bench. “They’ll hang us with the same noose as the Inuits.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I understand that only too well, but honestly, they may hang us anyway.”

  Several joggers passed them as the sun neared the horizon. Nick cleared his throat and checked the time. “I wish I wasn’t leaving you to face the lions, but I have to skedaddle to catch my flight.”

  Lowry heaved a sigh, touching his arm. “So soon? What about your luggage?”

  Nick patted his backpack. “I travel light.” He packed his phone away and fidgeted with the pockets of the pack. With a nervous cough, he shot a glance at her. “Lowry, I don’t mean to pile it on, but your father is also in D.C. and wants to meet with you.”

  Lowry held her stomach as Mary’s Diner Classic took a turn for the worse. She blurted out, “Oh, god, just what I need!” She shook her head. “But why is he here?”

  “Halder is a perceptive bastard and correctly assessed Duff’s talents in the art of passive aggression.” He cocked his head at her. “Halder’s pulling out all stops to persuade you to toe the line.”

  Lowry exhaled, rolling her eyes. “Just when this was starting to feel like a real vacation, now I get to look forward to a rousing family game of ‘Find the Guilty.’”

  Nick chuckled. “Or one of Duff’s personal favorites: ‘Project your sins upon others and see what sticks.’” Shrugging, he said with a grin, “Believe it or not, your father loves you.” He stared out vacantly and then swallowed hard. “The past affects everything in his world—and trust me, it wasn’t pretty.”

  They fell silent, wrapped in their own thoughts. A kuk-kuk-kuk sound made Lowry look up, and she saw a squirrel chase another along a huge limb of the giant oak above them.

  Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Lowry, there are times in our lives when we must stand up for truth no matter how painful it is. Truth can be painted many colors to disguise it, but someday, God’s own rain washes it clean.” He stared at the ground, kicking dust up into the air with the toe of his boot. “But until the rains come, Lowry girl, we can’t become blind to what is right.”

  The squirrels switched aggressors, scrambling back down the tree and across the grass in front of them. A half-smile briefly crossed Lowry’s face. She breathed in, steadying herself for the confrontations ahead.

  No matter what happens, by god, they’ll at least know they’ve been in a fight.

  CHAPTER 17

  Lowry drummed her fingers on the table, glancing again toward the entrance of the lounge. By the time she had returned to the hotel from her meeting with Nick, her father had left a message, asking to meet with her. She had decided that it would be best to meet him at a neutral location, and since she knew a bar would be a natural place for him, she had asked him to meet her in the hotel lounge that evening.

  She sat there sipping her wine, trying to relax but readying herself for the fight ahead—cat-and-mouse was an old game between them. Her father loved her as best he could, but hidden in the folds of his psyche was a nasty streak, and like a stiletto, it popped out at inconvenient times, cruelly slicing with his words. Lowry had learned to study him for signs of attack like one watches a mean dog.

  She clenched her jaw. It wasn’t that long ago that her father had struck her for the last time—a form of stress relief for him. Instead of a second shot of whiskey, how about a smack in the face for the rebellious kid? And even now, the weather was about the depth of their discussions if she didn’t want an argument.

  Lowry absently tapped her lips.

  Her father was intelligent but petulant, never seeming to forget a perceived slight, no matter how minor. Friends would politely say he had never “realized his potential.” He had found his true calling when an obscure political position in Antarctica became vacant and he grabbed it. He took to politics like a religion. With his manipulative personality, he had risen in the ranks and weaseled his way into the provisional governor’s post. It was far from being a powerful position since his constituents were primarily miners and prostitutes, but he was as content as he had ever been.

  She swallowed hard at his appearance at th
e door. He was a handsome man: tall and thin with a full head of dark hair except for the gray at the temples, which he bragged made him look more patrician and, happily, more electable.

  He nodded as she weakly waved to him. Ever conscious of others’ perceptions of him, he strode over to her table with his broad, politician’s smile, and she rose to exchange “pleasantries.”

  With a brisk hug, he said in his faint Scottish burr, “Good to see you, Lowry, my girl!” Then he told the approaching waiter, “Scotch and soda, please.”

  He sat down. The sharp glint in his eyes belied his good humor. Lowry steeled herself for a fight.

  Duff’s smile faded, and a tense silence fell between them.

  He cleared his throat and said with a brittle edge to his voice, “I hear that you’re testifying on this crazy intrigue involving the space station?”

  “Yes, I’ve gotten sucked into this charade.”

  He pursed his lips, tapping the table with his finger. “You know, Lowry, I’m up for reelection and don’t really need any negative publicity right now.”

  She gritted her teeth. As usual, it was all about him, not how she was being torn inside out or how this sham of a court case was playing out.

  Duff continued in a hushed tone, “Nick told me that he thinks it’s another group entirely and not these terrorist Eskimos, but honestly, who cares? The government is going to win no matter what, and even if they’re innocent on this deal, they’re probably guilty of something else.”

  Lowry blinked in disbelief, trying not to react to his bald statement. The sad part of it all was that it was probably what most folks thought. If some people got their civil rights bent inconveniently, oh well—maybe they’d feel bad fifty years hence and have celebrations on the beauty of what Eskimo life used to be like. But now, they just wanted the land.

  Duff’s face brightened with a big smile for the waiter, who set his drink on the table. He turned back to Lowry, the shadow falling over his face again. “Look, Lowry, just do what the Attorney General says, and then it’s over.”