The Raft
Page 9
Chapter 6
“This is insane!” Rachael rapidly fired. Maggie and Rachael huddled at the stern of the Soft Cell for a frantic conference, out of earshot of Chemical Ali G. The sun was burning off the morning's cloud cover and Rachael shielded her eyes to glare.
“It's bullshit,” Maggie replied. Despite her muted tone, she packed plenty of emphasis into her vulgarity. “Don't go making some sort of federal case out of this.”
“Federal case?” Rachael said in disbelief. “He just said-”
“He just said nothing,” Maggie was trying to keep her voice low and level. “And don't start pretending that that moron knows any more about what's going on here than you and I do.”
“But if...” Rachael tried to restrain herself. Her elite media, liberal bias was tingling. She could smell the blood of a story in the water. “He just implied that Senator Hadian was having an affair... if Meerkat was pregnant... that makes the Senator the number one-”
“Stop,” Maggie ordered, holding up a single finger. “It's bullshit, remember?”
“Well, it didn't sound like bullshit.”
“No, you just don't want it to sound like bullshit. That's very different.”
“Oy!” Chemical yelled from the prow of the craft. “Ya gonna untie me or what?”
“Shit,” Maggie cursed.
“What?”
“I can't let that moron go,” Maggie rapidly whispered.
“But you told him you'd let him go.”
“That's before he dropped that load of horse manure.” Maggie ran a hand through her thick hair. “If he started babbling to other Rafters about Meerkat and Senator Hadian... well, they'll jump to the same dumb conclusion that you just did.”
“You can't leave him tied up to the front of your ship,” Rachael stole a glance up to the bow. Chemical was watching the two of them intently. “What can you do with him?”
“I can't arrest him. I don't have his franchise, I'm not his Magistrate.” Maggie also stole a glance over her shoulder at Chemical.
“Then who is?”
“I'm not really sure,” Maggie admitted. “Chemical's not that reliable at paying his bills...”
“Then, he might not have a Magistrate?” Rachael asked in disbelief.
“Possibly.”
“And then no one has the authority to arrest him?”
“Right.”
“Doesn't this strike any of you as a serious flaw in your legal system?” In exasperation, Rachael raised her voice above its former hushed whisper. On the prow, Chemical's curiosity was piqued.
Maggie sighed. “Don't worry, I can take care of this.”
“How?”
“We'll take him to the Gray Beards.”
Rachael shook her head in disbelief. “Is that some sort of rock band?”
“No, there...” Maggie thought about it. “I don't know, I guess you could say they're the Raft's ruling council.”
“At last,” Rachael feigned relief. “We find that someone is actually in charge of the madhouse.”
“Not in charge, per se, but... well, it's hard to explain.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
“Anyway, if anyone knows who has Chemical's franchise, it'll be Gandalf.”
“Geldof?” Rachael raised an eyebrow.
“No, Gandalf. Like in hobbits... and rings.”
“Seriously?” Rachael smirked. “Does everyone on the Raft have a 70's biker CB handle?”
“We leave our tax names onshore,” Maggie answered, perhaps missing the sarcasm. “Last I checked, his junk was moored off Agate Point. If we have a good tail wind... but we'd better get moving, the whole Raft will be sailing north very soon.” Maggie stepped to the helm and checked the gauges of the control panel.
“What's north?”
“The San Juans, Friday Harbor. The Freaky Kon-Tikis. They're this weekend,” Maggie said, distracted.
“The what?”
“The Freaky-” Maggie paused, looking up from the helm. “You haven't heard of the Freaky Kon-Tikis? ”she asked in disbelief. “Come on, even dryfoots have heard of that.”
Rachael paused in thought. She remembered reading an article many years ago, something about the Raft having an annual festival. A boat race. “Well, yeah,” she allowed.
“Well, it's a tradition,” Maggie continued. “It's our holiday, our only holiday. Sort of like the Seafair hydros, a milk carton derby, opening day of boating season, and Burning Man all wrapped up into one. Everyone on the Raft sails north for the Kon-Tiki races. It's our holiday. A tradition.”
The look on Maggie's face told Rachael that Maggie was unhappy with her explication. She shook her head and continued. “We'll have to take Agate Pass,” Maggie changed the subject, tapping a gauge. “That little merry chase drained the electrics. There's no time to recharge.” Maggie moved from behind the helm and began to work at the rigging. “I hope you don't still get seasick,” she added.
Rachael coughed. She hadn't quite stopped feeling seasick since she'd come aboard. “No, no, not as bad,” she lied. “Why?”
“Oh,” Maggie smiled. “The Agate Pass can be... thrilling.”
“Wonderful,” Rachael said sarcastically. She sighed, leaned up against the grab rail and turned her face to the warming sun. “Maggie,” she began.
“Yes?”
“If anything that Chemical just said is true...”
“But it's not.”
“But if it is...”
“I don't want to think about it,” Maggie said as she pulled on a halyard.
“If Horus didn't kill Meerkat...”
“Rachael,” Maggie paused in her effort to raise her mainsail. “I need you to stay focused here. We can't jump off that cliff and hope there's water below.”
“Yes,” Rachael agreed, at least logically. “Right.”
“Good,” Maggie said and returned to her halyard.
“Oy!” Chemical piped up from the pulpit. “Is someone gonna let me go?”