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Rachael found Maggie sitting at the very rear of the Kalakala's car deck, her bare feet dangling over the still water. The Kon-Tiki races and its spectators were still raising a din from the bow of the craft, but Maggie had found a quiet spot at the stern of the ship, away from the celebrations. She was watching shore and letting her toes hover over the glassy water. The sun was high in the sky, the cloud of the morning rainstorm had burned away.
Rachael sat down at the lip of the car deck next to Maggie, letting her own bare feet dangle over the water.
“That's that then.” Rachael shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun and looked up at the sky. “Turned out to be a fine day,” she said.
“Mmm,” was all Maggie said in response. They lapsed into silence and they both watched the water below their feet.
“I suppose I'll have to write something about this,” Rachael said, thinking out loud. “Justify my two-day absence. But after I take into account all the half-truths and downright lies, I'm not sure what's left over for me to write about...”
“Mmm,” Maggie hummed again.
“I hate that 'Mmm,' it always means trouble. Aren't you done? You've discovered the identity of Meerkat's murderer and you saved the Raft from destruction. Everyone's celebrating.” Rachael gestured behind her towards the prow of the craft. “You should, too. What's left to 'Mmm' about?”
“Nothing,” Maggie said. “Nothing.”
“I mean, I watched you every step of the way, Maggie. I can't believe what you just did... that's what I'm going to write about, now I understand... you Maggie. Maggie Straight the Magistrate. That's my story. When the dryfoots read about you, Maggie... well, it will be good for the Raft. You're the public face of the Raft now, remember? A little friendly press can't hurt.”
“We'll always remember this as the beginning of the end, Rachael,” Maggie said solemnly.
“What? Are you worried about Kid Galahad? Because I think you've handled him quite well. The gold? I can assure you my lips are sealed. And Tiger Print...”
“No, no... it's not that.”
“Then what?”
“Everything we left the shore to escape, it's followed us out here.”
“Maggie...” Rachael paused, watching the water. She thought about her words, continuing, “The Raft is no magical kingdom. It's made up of men and women, just like society onshore. What has followed you out here to the Raft, that was no creation of dryfoot government, but the trials and tribulations of Man. Deceit, murder, theft, lies, they follow mankind like a cloud. You escaped to the Raft, Maggie, but you couldn't escape dryland without bringing yourselves with you. That's what you were running away from Maggie: you. The dark part of your humanity. You can't escape it, it will always be with you. On dryland or aboard the Raft.”
Maggie looked up from the shining water with heavy eyelids. “Thanks,” she moaned.
Rachael laughed. Threw her arms around Maggie and hugged her head to her chest. “Don't be so morose! Look at you, Maggie, look at the person you've become. Remember, I knew you before you came out here to the Raft. I lived with you, I loved you. But back then, you were not even half the woman that you've become. You're living proof, Maggie, of what the Raft can mean to people: a new beginning, an opportunity to thrive. The Raft means freedom, Maggie, and you draw your strength from it. It's your Raft now, you've taken control of it. It's down to you to shepherd it through a difficult transition, a reorientation of the Raft to the greater world beyond its hull. But you're the right woman to do it, because only you are the Raft. You so acutely understand its potential. What the Raft has provided you, it can offer to so many others. The freedom to realize what is within. You can sell the Raft to dryfoot society, Maggie – a society tired and jaded and indifferent to freedom – by just showing them what you've become.
“And that's what I'll write in the paper. My Maggie. Not about murder and deceit and sex and corruption, but about you. What you were able to overcome, what you were able to accomplish with nothing but the help of one seasick reporter and plenty of hard sailing.”
Maggie parted her lips to speak, but let her words go unspoken. Instead, she said, “I love you,” and took Rachael's hand.
“I love you, too,” Rachael replied, squeezing Maggie's hand.
And they sat there, watching the sun glisten off the water as cheers rose up from the gathered crowd behind them.