"What's the weight?" I asked.
The stagehand checked his notes. "Truss section is eight hundred pounds. Lights add another four-fifty. Twelve-fifty total."
Twelve hundred and fifty pounds of steel and equipment, suspended forty feet above the stage. Above where Rune would stand during the opening number.
My body tensed. "Rigging certification current?"
"Inspected this morning." The stagehand looked at me with mild confusion on his face. "Is there a problem?"
I didn't know yet. Maybe nothing. Or maybe someone had made a change that looked professional, but wasn’t.
"No," I said. "Thanks."
He walked away. I stared up at the truss, watching the crew work.
I pulled out my phone. Compared the photo I'd taken of the Portland hang plot to what I was seeing now. The Portland configuration had that same truss positioned eight feet further upstage and twelve feet higher.
A forklift beeped behind me. The chain motors whined as the truss rose another six inches, then stopped. One rigger leaned out from the catwalk, checking alignment. He signaled down. The motors engaged again.
The truss shifted and the mounting point creaked. I heard it through the ambient noise.
The rigger heard it too. He paused, raising his hand in a halt signal. The motors stopped.
He spoke into his headset. Someone responded. He looked down at the truss, assessing it . Then he signaled to continue.
The motors engaged. The truss rose another two feet and locked into position.
I looked up at the truss again. It hung solid and still. Directly over where Rune would stand.
I pulled out my phone and called Eamon.
He answered on the third ring. "You at the Forum?"
"Yeah. I need you to look at something." I took three photos, the truss from different angles. "Sending now."
Silence while he reviewed them. He exhaled.
"That's hanging over the performance space."
"Yeah."
"How much weight?"
"Twelve-fifty."
"When did they approve the change?"
"This morning. Verbally."
Another pause. "Griffin, are you seeing a pattern or is this instinct?"
"Both."
Eamon was quiet for a moment. He spoke again, enunciating carefully. "If you flag this and you're wrong, it'll look like paranoia. Exactly what they're waiting for."
"And if I don't flag it and something happens?"
Rune dies.
