Before Gandalf could fully comprehend it had happened, he'd lost control of the Raft.
Of course, Gandalf had never been elected as leader of the Raft, the whole idea being against the most basic establishing principle of the commune. But people being people, any voice that spoke with authority had been dutifully listened to. And Gandalf, with his control of the Exchange, had spoken with command. He'd never contemplated up until that moment that his position at the top of the pecking order could be taken away from him. And perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to be blindsided. Orac, out of nowhere, had stolen Gandalf's Raft from him. Gandalf stood dumbfounded as Rafters began to clear the Kalakala's car deck and return to their junks.
With one blow, Orac had both taken control of the Raft and doomed it to its destruction. Perhaps he really believed that the Coast Guard blockade might part at the sight of his enlightened non-violence. He'd been able to convince much of the rest of the Raft that it would. But it was suicide, plain suicide, Gandalf knew. He was left standing alone in slack-jawed silence.
The Coast Guard would eat them alive, fire on any ship that refused to heave to. Anyone who thought any different was insane. But the whole Raft had cheered Orac as he'd conjured up images of the 1960s and the civil rights movement.
But unlike Martin Luther King, no one onshore would blink an eye if the Raft vanished tomorrow. There'd be no difficult questions asked. The Rafters didn't understand... that they were a problem the dryfoots simply wanted the government to take care of. They wouldn't balk if the Coast Guard had to sink one or two or even a dozen Rafter ships. As long as the Raft disappeared, no one would fuss over the loss of a few Rafters. They would be obliterated, Gandalf foretold, and he'd let it happen.
“You've got to stop them,” Gandalf said, grabbing Maggie by the arm. She'd taken her first step back towards her boat, joining the others.
“I know,” Maggie pulled on Gandalf's grasp, trying to break free.
“You've got to stop them, Maggie,” Gandalf repeated.
“Let go,” Maggie yanked on Gandalf's iron grip. Her arm pulled free.
“Maggie -” Gandalf lunged for Maggie again, but Tiger Print stepped up and put a comforting hand on Gandalf's shoulder. That broke the spell and Gandalf realized he was being aggressive. “Maggie, if they try to run that blockade...”
“I know, but they've decided on their fate.” Maggie watched as the last Rafters hopped away, clear of the Kalakaka. The fools were going to get themselves killed.
“Your friend. Bigallo. The reporter. You have to bring her back. If the media is there when Orac tries to run the Coast Guard's line...”
“I'll see what I can do,” Maggie answered. But she knew there was no way in hell she'd get Rachael back on the Raft. Not after last night.
“Then find Meerkat's murderer. If we could hand him over to the police...”
“I will,” Maggie replied, trying to move as quickly away from Gandalf and Tiger Print as she could without appearing ill-mannered. “I'll find out what happened.” And Maggie turned, trotting off towards the Soft Cell.
“It's okay, honey,” Tiger Print said to Gandalf. “Let Maggie do her job."