The Raft (9 page)

Maggie gestured at Chemical. “Can you watch
him for a while? Make him feel at home.”

“Of course, dear, anything for you. What has
he done this time?”

“Nothing. Yet. Can you keep him out of
trouble?”

“Of course.”

Then Maggie's tone turned serious. “I'm
afraid I have some horrible news, Tiger.”

“What's wrong?”

“It's Meerkat. She fell overboard. She's
dead.”

Tiger Print paused, but she didn't seem to
waver. The tray before her remained totally motionless. “Oh, no.
How sad. Poor girl... Chemical didn't-”

“No, but if you can still keep an eye on
him.”

“We will, we will,” Tiger Print swallowed.
“And to think, I just saw her last night, alive and happy, dancing
aboard the
Geoduck...
how horrible...”

“The
Geoduck
you say?”

“Yes, dear. I can only guess that you're
going to go look for Horus?”

“I am.”

“Good girl. You be careful, you understand?
Anyone who could do such a thing to Meerkat... he might be capable
of anything. Well, this iced tea isn't improving with age. You'll
excuse me, dears.” And Tiger Print started towards the golf course,
shimmying in her bare feet.

“Chemical?” Rachael asked.

“It's taken care of,” Maggie replied.

“So. What do we do now?” Rachael watched
Tiger Print hand out iced tea to the Gray Beards and Arrowsoft
employees.

“Now?” Maggie said. “We get some
breakfast.”

Chapter 8

“Tiger Print mentioned,” Rachael began as
they waited for the waitress to prepare a table, “back on the
Kalakala
, something about the Shane boy kidnapping. I
remember that, two or three years ago. Did you have something to do
with it?”

They were stand on the spacious open-air rear
deck of the
Smiling Geoduck
, next to its blatantly
pornographic sign. The
Smiling Geoduck
had once been a
Parisian riverboat restaurant, before being towed halfway around
the world to serve as the Raft's only public eating establishment.
It still had much of its French charm, with a rear deck filled with
cast iron bistro tables and an inner lower deck that doubled as a
disco. Even at ten in the morning, the
Geoduck
was busy with
patrons finishing up their breakfasts of omelets and French
toast.

“I didn't kidnap him, if that's what you
mean.”

“No, it isn't.”

“It's a long story,” Maggie replied,
distracted, looking for their waitress.

“Tiger Print called you a hero.”

“Yeah, well...” Maggie hedged.

The waitress returned after clearing a table.
They were seated at the railing overlooking the
Geoduck's
companion vessel, an old barge covered in topsoil and planted as a
floating vegetable garden. The summer was far enough along that the
corn was waist high and the beans were growing appreciably up their
guides. The morning clouds had cleared and the Cascades could be
seen over the skyline of the city across the Sound. Rachael took
off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair.

“Well?” Rachael said after they were seated.
Ice water was poured and large, single-sided menus arrived.

“The
Times
must have done a story on
the Shane kidnapping.” Maggie began looking over the menu.

“Sure. The father was a rich Wall Street
inside trader, right? Who fled to the Raft to escape arrest? His
boy was kidnapped. Held for ransom. I forget how it ended, though.
Didn't he pay the ransom?”

“No,” Maggie said, not taking her eyes of her
menu. “That's just it. I rescued the boy.”

“You did
what
?” Rachael dropped her
menu.

Maggie winced, “Well, not just me, but...”
Maggie seemed to have decided something. “I think I'll have
lunch... chowder.”

“Screw the chowder.” Rachael had forgotten
about food. “I don't understand. How did you
rescue
the
boy?”

“Rescue? Rescue. As I said, it's a long
story.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

Maggie seemed annoyed. “We don't have
time.”

“But we have time for chowder?”

“Alright,” Maggie sighed. She put down her
menu. “You see, the boy's father was – is – one of my members. I'm
his Magistrate. I have his franchise. Just like Horus, just like
Meerkat. I guess, in a roundabout way, that made the boy my
responsibility-”

The waitress arrived. “Can I take your
orders?” Rachael panicked and returned her menu to eye level.

“We'll both have the chowder. And a green
salad,” Maggie ordered. The waitress wrote something on a notebook
and stepped away from the table.

“Thank you,” Rachael smiled. Then realized,
“No more vegan?”

“No. It's not really practical out here on
the Raft.”

“No, of course not...” Still, Rachael was
surprised.

“Anyway,” Maggie got back on track. “That's
how everyone else saw it: the boy was my responsibility. When those
dryfoot kidnappers came out to the Raft and took the boy, they
asked for fifteen million in ransom. Suddenly, everyone turned to
me for answers. That's what I get for pretending to be a figure of
authority out here. What did I know about negotiating with
kidnappers? I can't even bribe a county official correctly, what
would happen if I make a mistake with the Shane boy? He could get
hurt. These were some serious characters. Real criminals. Not comic
opera pot dealers like Horus. They were threatening to cut the
boy's finger off and send it to his mother. Bastards.”

“Oh my God.”

“Anyway, there was no one else, we couldn't
turn to the dryfoot cops for help. The kidnappers correctly
reasoned that the mainland authorities would ignore the kidnapping
as long as it stayed aboard the Raft. If we went crying to them,
it'd have given them every excuse they needed to come aboard the
Raft and start executing some law and order. We'd be asking for
their protection. Demanding it. The cops just sat and waited –
waited for the invitation. But no one aboard the Raft wanted the
police involved. Not the boy's father or mother, or me, and
especially not the kidnappers. No that just left me. Maggie
Straight the Magistrate.

“So, I tried to convince the father to pay
the kidnappers, it seemed like the easiest way to get the boy back.
But he couldn't, he just didn't have the money. He'd been rich on
land, but all his assents had all been frozen by the IRS. He'd
escaped to the Raft with what liquid cash he had, and that was
nothing like fifteen million. Of course, the kidnappers didn't know
this, no one did. And when word got out I just wanted to pay the
kidnappers off, all hell broke loose. Nobody wanted to see the Raft
become a prime target for each and every two-bit scumbag looking to
make a quick buck. But a kid's life was at stake. I really didn't
care how it looked, I just wanted to get the boy back.”

“So what did you do?” Rachael leaned forward
on the edge of her seat.

Maggie shrugged. “In the end, I had to go
full Rambo.”

“What?” Rachael laughed. “Rambo?”

“Yeah, the clock was ticking, the deadline
was closing in. I knew these three guys, here on the Raft, with
military experience. Former Marines. We planned it out. We swam in
under the cover of darkness, with SCUBA gear, up to the kidnappers'
boat. We had Tasers and shotguns loaded with beanbags, all wrapped
up in plastic bags.”

“You're kidding...” Rachael was listening in
slack-jawed amazement.

“I wish I was, I was so scared my hands
wouldn't stop shaking. I mean, before that day I'd never even held
a gun, and there I was, part of a full-on Seal Team 5 attack.”

The chowder and salads came. Pepper was
ground from an oversized grinder and more ice water was
fetched.

“Then what happened?” Rachael prodded once
the waitress had departed.

Maggie tasted the chowder and found it
delicious. “So we swam up to the quiet ship. The kidnappers
appeared to be dozing. Just one guard at the stern. We shimmied up
the mooring lines and ripped open those plastic bags full of our
weapons. I caught the guard with a Taser and he took a header into
the Sound. We caught the rest of the mob napping. It was over in
less than ten seconds. It still makes me shake to think about it.”
Maggie held up a hand and it was visibly trembling. “We radioed for
a jet ski, all ready and waiting, and it swooped in to pick up the
boy. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in his mother's arms, safe.
We tied up and deposited the kidnapping sons of bitches at the foot
of the Kingston ferry dock, just in time for the morning
commute.”

“Oh my God...” Rachael gasped in surprise,
raising a hand to cover her mouth.

“Their boat we kept. And no dryfoots have
ever returned. There's one good thing to be said about solving your
problems with violence: no one ever tries to pick on you
twice.”

“I mean - was anyone hurt? The boy?”

“No, it all went smoothly.” Maggie dug into
her salad. “But the precedent was set. From that day forward,
Magistrates weren't simply about conflict resolution anymore, but
active protection.”

“Then you
are
some sort of a
policeman,” Rachael smiled. “I knew it.”

“Policewoman... den mother, therapist, what
have you. And it's all voluntary. A paid service. Don't like your
cop, go find another one. But you take the good with the bad. In
exchange for my protection, you also voluntarily submit to my
authority.”

“And that's why you can arrest Horus? I mean,
if you can find him.”

“Exactly.”

“This place is insane,” Rachael shook her
head. She tried the chowder. It
was
delicious.

“It's not like the mainland, that's for sure.
No cops, no bureaucrats, no rules.”

“You'll forgive me if I stick with the
Seattle P.D. and 911.”

“I will. I think most people would
agree.”

“It just all seems...” Rachael picked her
words, she knew all too well how easy it was to pick a fight with
Maggie. “So flimsy. I mean, I understand that you're good at what
you do, that you saved that boy, but what about the Magistrates
that aren't...”

“Quite so honest?” Maggie finished Rachael's
sentence.

“Yes!” Rachael gestured at Maggie with her
fork. She was relieved that Maggie had said it and not her.

“It's the same here on the Raft as it is on
the dryland. Over there,” Maggie pointed to the skyline of the
city. “What do you do with a dirty cop?”

“Expose him, fire him, hopefully arrest him,”
Rachael replied.

“Yes, but how long does that take? How often
does a department like the Seattle P.D. actually dismiss an
officer? And do you think each and every officer on the force is
squeaky clean? It can take years for someone like you to uncover
wrongdoing, dutifully report it and get any sort of substantive
action. Here on the Raft, if you've got a bad Magistrate, you
simply fire them yourself.”

“But if you're less than honest yourself...
What stops a criminal like Chemical there from colluding with his
Magistrate to avoid arrest?”

“Even the crooks need good Magistrates,”
Maggie replied. She'd finished her chowder. “They're as often the
victims of crime as they are the perpetrators. Sure, they might
curse the day they hired a Magistrate when that Magistrate boards
their junk to come arrest them, but by and large, over any sort of
period of time, the criminals need as good a Magistrate as they can
afford. If Chemical back there could pay his bills, I'd still own
his franchise. We didn't part ways because I failed to turn a blind
eye to his crimes. No, inevitability, all a poor Magistrate gets
out here on the Raft is empty pockets. And the need to look for a
different line of work.”

Rachael let it go. She'd had these sorts of
conversations with Maggie a thousand times. She knew there was no
convincing her, changing her perception. But today everything was
different, Rachael didn't need to argue politics. Regardless of how
righteous and correct Maggie might think the Raft to be, there were
realities that needed to be addressed.

“You know it's all over, don't you?” Rachael
said after the food was finished.

“What's that?” Maggie was distracted, looking
off at the horizon.

“The Raft. I mean, no matter what you
discover, if you catch Horus or not. The death of Meerkat is all
that the authorities are going to tolerate. When they come, and
they will come, they won't be coming out here to investigate a
murder, or its links to Senators or Congressmen or whomever.
They're coming out here to sink the Raft. Once and for all.”

“I know,” was all Maggie said, still looking
at the skyline of the city.

“Then...” Rachael bit her bottom lip. “Come
home. Get while the getting is good. Sail back to Alki with me and
leave your boat. Hang the tax man.”

“This is my home, Rachael.”

“I know, but...” Rachael wanted to scream.
Stand up and shake Maggie and slap some sense into her. “Staying
here, waiting for the inevitable will only mean jail. Or worse.
Does everyone on the Raft carry a gun like you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then damn it, Maggie!” Rachael said, drawing
glances from the other tables. “There's going to be shooting.
People are going to get hurt. People are going to
die
.
Maggie, for Christ's sake, see some sense.”

“You're right. I should never have let you
come out here. You should go home, go back to your child.”

“Maggie!” Rachael tried to control herself.
She pulled back, lowering her voice, trying another tactic. “I
mean, this place is amazing. Now I understand. I'm so glad that I
got to see it. I understand why you love it so much. But it's over,
Maggie. Over. Even you have to admit it, that even at its best, the
Raft was running on borrowed time. You can't avoid the long arm of
the law forever.”