The Raft
Page 36
#
Maggie let her jog turn into a full sprint. She had to get back to the Soft Cell, she had to get under sail. There was so little time left. Everything was about to explode. And she'd wasted so much time, with Senator Hadian, with Horus, with her feelings and Rachael. All dead ends. She'd gotten nowhere, no further than she'd been yesterday morning when her old iPhone had rung.
Do her job, indeed. Maggie was stumbling around in the dark like an amateur. The authorities onshore, Galahad, were laughing at her – and so they should. Private Magistrate, what did that mean? What had Meerkat's money bought her? A magistrate more interested in lunch and relighting an old flame than investigating a murder?
No, Meerkat had paid three hours a month and had expected justice. Maggie would find Meerkat's killer and do what she'd been paid to do.
But Maggie was at a loss, all she'd accomplished so far was to positively determine the innocence of all of her potential suspects. She was back to square one. She'd come up empty handed.
She'd need Rachael again, Maggie realized. There was just no other option. If she had any hope of defusing Orac's Armada, or breaking up the Coast Guard's blockade, or getting to the bottom of Meerkat's double – triple identity, Maggie would need Rachael and the resources and prestige her connection to the Times brought along.
But she'd never get Rachael back aboard the Raft, not after last night, not after that kiss. Rachael was safely back onshore with her family, sleeping in a nice warm bed. No one but a fool would cast off and join the Raft just hours before its total destruction. And Maggie would be a heartless murderer herself to ask any wife and mother to risk her neck doing so.
There was no way in hell.
Maggie's phone was ringing, echoing out of the companionway of the Soft Cell, as she climbed across the decks of the ships rafted up to the Kalakaka. The main island of the Raft was breaking up quickly, fleeing the orbit of the old ferry as quickly as popular opinion had fled Gandalf back on the car deck.
The Raft was reconfiguring itself into Orac's Armada in preparation to run the blockade and reach the Freaky Kon-Tikis. Its change was wordless, leaderless, and organic, with each and every pilot of each and every craft consciously adjusting, finding a position in the new command structure. Maggie cast off her ropes and floated free, letting the Raft transform around her.
“Hello, hello?” Maggie questioned the black handset, trying to answer it.
“Maggie,” Rachael's voice finally emerged from the phone. “I just had the strangest conversation with Galahad.”
“He's blockading the Freaky Kon-Tikis,”
“Yes,” Rachael said in surprise. “How did you know?”
“News travels fast on the Raft, remember?”
“You have to warn everyone, keep to the south Sound. Kid Galahad is loaded for bear. He's ready for a fight.”
“Yes,” Maggie said calmly. “So are the Rafters.”
“What's going on?”
“There was a meeting. A War Council. Decisions were made.”
“They're not going to try to run the blockade? That's insane.”
“It is, but they're going to do it anyway. There's been a... coup, I guess. Gandalf isn't calling the shots anymore.”
“What? Who?”
“Orac,” Maggie said flatly.
“Can you have a coup when you don't have a leader?”
“I guess so. At least, when it really counts. I... I need your help again, Rachael.”
“Yes, you do,” Rachael said without hesitation. “You want me to run the blockade with you?”
“Yes, but I can't ask...”
“You don't have to, Maggie.”
“But Peter and Margaret...”
“I have you to keep me safe, Maggie.”
“I really only have one play here, Rachael, and it's not a smart one.”
“What's that?”
“To give Kid Galahad Meerkat's murderer.”
“You know who killed Meerkat?” Rachael gasped in shock.
“No,” Maggie said. “But the dryfoots don't know that. If we can sit down and parley. Maybe there's some sort of deal that we can work out. Some sort of compromise that will get the Coast Guard to back down.”
“You want to sell the Feds a pig in a poke?” Rachael chuckled.
“In my defense, I have every hope that I'll find the pig to put in the poke before delivery of said poke is demanded. I just need to buy some time – somehow get Orac's Armada through to the Freaky Kon-Tikis.”
“If I can help, Maggie, you know I will.”
“Can you call Galahad? Set up a meeting?”
“I can certainly try. But he'll be aboard the blockade by now. I'll need a lift. Where are you?”
“At the Kalakala,” Maggie answered.
“Then Alki again in an hour?”
“Sure, but...”
“But?”
“Thanks, Rachael.”
“Don't thank me. It's your plan.”
“But... tell Peter I'm guaranteeing your safety.”
“I'm sure he'll be thrilled.”
“One hour then.”
“Just like yesterday.”
“And Rachael?”
“Yes?”
“Do you own a gun?”
“Of course not.”
“No, I didn't think you would.”