He buried the wrong man

Chapter 5: Rig fell at gala

The Halcyon Legacy Gala transformed the soundstage of the largest of the studio's soundstages into a sea of light and noise: champagne towers, a live orchestra in one corner, a red carpet across a concrete floor that was typically used for green screens and camera dollies. As he passed through it, he drank his drink without finishing it, looked at the crowd, and kept his mind on the files Barrett had promised him.

Desmond came up to him at his elbow, as if he were at his own funeral, and he spoke with the confidence of one who had everything he needed. “Smile Thane, this is a celebration,”

"Just tired."

“You have been very sleepy this whole week.” His tone was warmly expressive, but Desmond studied him a moment too long, something unreadable behind that expression. “I hope everything is in order with Ellery," 

"Signed this morning." It was true, in theory — Thane had signed a corrected version, one with the inflated line item tucked away in language so thick that Desmond probably wouldn't read past the summary. It was a little white lie, the first of many he knew he would have to tell.

"Good man." Desmond laughed and clapped him once on the shoulder before drifting away toward a group of board members, his laughter carrying easily over the orchestra.

Thane watched him go, his jaw tight as he thought of a courtroom that was no longer as far away as it should be.

---

Twenty minutes later he discovered Corwin Ellery, sitting at the bar with two junior executives who laughed too soon at everything he said.

"Ashworth." Corwin's smile was a practiced one, a sharp one, a smile that never reached his eyes. “Congratulations are due, I'm told, though if the board follows through, you'll be the youngest EVP in studio history.”

"Nothing's official yet."

"It will be." There was an edge of something almost pleasant in Corwin's tone. “You've always had Desmond's ear, some of us have to work twice as hard for half the attention.”

“I'm not sure that isn't the case.”

“Of course, no hard feelings," he said. Corwin lifted his glass a bit. “May the better executive win”

Thane knew the tone instantly; he had heard it before, in a life he was not about to live again, just before Corwin had sneaked in to take over two of Thane's most important projects during the chaos that followed his arrest. Corwin was not responsible for the fall. He had only taken advantage of it, skilfully and without hesitation, when it arose.

Thane echoed, “May the better executive win,” and meant something entirely different than Corwin did.

---

The rig went down after 40 minutes into the evening's show, as part of a live streamed tribute reel projected above the main stage. Suddenly, a flurry of lights was suspended above a platform, and a young actress was accepting an award when suddenly a sharp crack echoed through the soundstage as a section of scaffolding swung free due to a snapped support cable.

Screams cut through the orchestra. The actress stumbled back, covering her face with debris falling from above, the truss groaning under its broken weight.

Thane was running before he had time to think, cutting through the panicking crowd towards the stage. “Now, everybody back, clear the area below the rig!”

A stagehand froze near the control panel, uncertain, and Thane grabbed his arm. “Turn off the electricity to that part. Right now before it swings again.”

“I can't say that I'm authorized to—”

“OK, I'm giving permission to do it.”

The stagehand obeyed. All the other lights above the stage went out, leaving that area in darkness and the swinging truss sagging without any power running through it. Thane arrived at the actress seconds later, extricating her from the debris field, but quickly checking for injuries before waving the security team that had been rushing from the wings.

He was steady as a rock, despite his heart pounding, "Call an ambulance! Don't move that rig until the safety guys show up, I want pictures of the cable break before anyone moves it.”

A nearby producer asked, "You think this was sabotage?”

“If I don't see the evidence, I don't believe it.” Thane crouched down for a moment, looking at the end of the cable without touching it, noting its location. “Leave the scene as it is, get me the maintenance logs for this rig for six months.”

The actress, shaken but not seriously hurt, was taken to the hospital by paramedics within minutes — composure bruised, shoulder scraped. The evening turned into a solemn silence as everyone started taking pictures of the scene, and Thane was in the middle of it, his heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline.

“That was a great performance,” someone called out behind him.

He looked around and spotted a woman he didn't know at first, but who was alert and calm in the midst of the commotion, and who was looking at him with a curious, rather than shocked, expression.

“Excuse me, but have we met?”

"Not yet." She stretched out her hand, ignoring the bits of debris that were still strewn around her feet. “Rosalind Fairweather, My family has a controlling stake in Halcyon's parent company.”

Thane shook her hand, adjusting rapidly. He had met Rosalind only once in the four years he could remember, and had spoken to her for only a few moments at a board dinner where she spoke perhaps ten words to him during the evening. This wasn't that woman.

"Thane Ashworth."

"I know you, and I know you are a good man.” Rosalind's eyes darted to the gloomy rig and back again. "Plenty of executives in this building would have called for help and then stood back to avoid liability. You didn't."

"Someone needed to."

"Most people wait for someone else to be that someone." She studied him for another moment, a calculating look behind her composed face. “I'll be watching your promotion with some interest, Mr. Ashworth. It's unusual to see a true performance of competence in this business.”

She turned and walked away before he could react, and he stood in the ruins of a gala that, in his recollection of events, had never featured a stage collapse.

He looked back at the darkest part of the rig, at the end of the cable, still glinting slightly under the emergency lighting, and the first cold thread of a new suspicion began to grow.

This was the first time ever. Which implied something about his choices — buying Wren's agency, keeping the Ellery signature from him, requesting records he never sought in his former life from Barrett — had already altered the course of events around him in a manner he hadn't anticipated.

Now his foresight was no longer a map he could rely on.

---

He remained until the final of the safety inspectors had arrived, insisting on giving his own account of the position of the cable before anyone had moved it. When he departed the soundstage, the glittering crowd had broken up into small, nervous groups around the exits, phones buzzing with messages to publicists and lawyers.

His warmth was replaced by guardedness when he was intercepted by Desmond near the parking structure.

“It was a pretty good show back there, wasn't it?” Desmond said. “Cutting power without permission, ordering photos, requesting maintenance logs – not exactly standard operating procedure for a Senior VP.”

Someone had to move quickly, the stagehands were frozen.

“Rosalind Fairweather seemed very taken with your quick thinking," Desmond's voice remained light, but his eyes were devoid of the usual warmth. “I didn't know you two were friends.”

“Until tonight we were not.”

“Interesting timing then, the Fairweathers don't pay this much attention to anyone below board level.” He studied him for a long, calculating beat behind his composed expression. "You've been a lot busier this week, Thane — the Ellery delay, this. People are starting to notice things about you they haven't noticed before.”

“Is that a problem?”

"Not yet." Desmond again had a smile on his face, but it was a thin one. “Just an observation. Get some rest. You've had an eventful evening.”

He strode away to his car, and Thane remained alone in the concrete stairwell, replaying the exchange with an increasing sense of discomfort he could not quite put his finger on. It was the first time in Thane's memory — the first time in this life — that Desmond had spoken to him like this.

There was something about tonight's events that shook him. The accident, or perhaps it was Rosalind's sudden attraction, or maybe something he hadn't considered, Desmond was watching her more closely than he ever had to during the events that unfolded.

As he approached his car, he retrieved his cell phone and began adding to the list he had begun the night things had changed.

‘Rig failure not in original timeline. Cause unknown. Coincidence or consequence?’

He looked at the words for a while, then tucked the phone back in his pocket, the chill of the night air doing little to ease the unease settled in his chest. He had an edge on everyone in this building — four years of memory that no one else possessed.

Tonight was the first time he felt the edge of that advantage — not yet realizing it came with a time limit.