The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 14)

He took his leave and, dust in hand, retired home to await the cover of night.

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Altman picked his way carefully through the darkness back to his home. He had to navigate by the light of the sliver of the moon and the stars; he’d supped and slept a while upon returning home, then rose during the small hours to set about the business of marking the high places of the new village.

His inability to see clearly forced him to move very slowly, picking his way through roughed-in roads and around worksites to the gates and front walk of the house.

The sounds of the night played tricks on his imagination. A sharp *CRACK* was definitely not his imagination though; he looked about, seeing nothing, then jerked his head up just in time to see a silhouette against the night sky above him in the branches of the tree in the front yard. Its hands were upraised, something held within. The hands and the object came down and then—

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Exploding pain. He felt like his head was on fire, or melting, or both at once. For an indeterminate length of time, that was all he was aware of. Gradually a sound entered his awareness. After another while, it began to sound like a voice.

“… his head. He’ll be fine now, though it was a nasty hit and he’ll be feelin’ it for some weeks I ‘magine.”

Some innate sense of self-preservation told him that now wasn’t the time to open his eyes, but he managed to speak, haltingly. “How … how long?”

“You’ve been out fer four hours.” The voice belonged to … Medic Cranford, he thought. That sounded right “That was a nasty crack on the head. Found you myself, lyin’ sprawled out on the steps right by the door, bleedin’ something fierce an’ a big stone fallen right from the roof beside you. Turns out the cut was worse than it looked, lucky fer you. Yer head ain’t broke, but you’ll be feelin’ like it is for a while.”

The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 13)

Waldon wiped his hands on his trousers and shook his head, eyeing the small pouches of red dust. “You gonna tell me what this’s all about, or do I gotta sit ‘n wonder?”

Altman looked around; the other workmen weren’t far, but were out of hearing range. “All of the ‘accidents’ so far have been types that are simple to arrange; things or people falling off of roofs or high places. I’m going to scatter this dust over all the roofs in town—thankfully we don’t have many yet. Tomorrow, if anyone else has been climbing around, they should stand out if we catch them quickly.”

The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 12)

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Altman set down a hammer and chisel and wiped dust the color of dried from his hands with a handkerchief and sighed in satisfaction. “That ought to about do it.” He hefted a small bag which contained more of the red powder. Waldon finished filling several more of the bags while a couple of his men pounded broken bits of red rock with sledge hammers to produce more. “We’ve enough for now I think, thank you!”

“Altman!” He turned at his name; Kaylene approached. “I ‘ave the small sacks you asked for. What are you up to? What happened t’ your hands? Is that blood?”

“Iron oxide, love. Simple rust to catch our troublemaker, if all goes well.”

She tossed him the small bags. “Whate’er you think it’s for, you’d best be washin’ it off before you touch any of my good linens or it’ll be me droppin’ stones on someone’s head, and you won’t like it one bit. And you’ve got some on your trousers, it’ll be murder to get out!”

Her words were harsh, but there was a glint in her eye. He grinned at her; she smacked him upside the head, but answered with a smile of her own.

“Ow! Yes, I’m afraid it will be hard to get out, but that’s exactly why I needed it. I’ll take care of the cleaning later myself. I have some ideas on how the iron’s magnetic properties may allow it to be removed more easily. For now, let me just go get cleaned up. I’ll be retiring early tonight to track down whoever’s behind the assaults tomorrow.”

Kaylene shook her head slowly, a look of amused wonder on her face. “Solves crimes and cleans his own clothes … no wonder I agreed to stay here with you.”

The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 11)

Waldon grimaced. “I don’ like the smell of any ‘o this, Mr. Dolet. Sabotage or no, the men’re gettin’ to be a problem. Catch ‘im quick. Y’may not buy inta th’ superstitious side o’ things but they surely do.”

They were nearing the work site again; the number of people around them increasing by the minute. “It’ll ha—”

Before he could finish, a splintering sound from above alerted him.

“Mr. Dolet!”

He whirled to see it just as Waldon crashed into him, knocking him clear of a cascade of collapsing wooden scaffold and stone brick.

Altman gagged on a thick cloud of dirt and dust raised by the crash. “I … I’m okay, it … it missed me. What in the … Where did that come from!”

“Didn’ miss by much. Damn near flattened yeh.” Waldon’s face was locked in a scowl; he turned his attention to the wreckage after ensuring Altman was alright. “Scaffolding collapsed.”

“I don’t suppose this could have been simple shoddy work?”

“Neh, all the new men’re workin’ the market site. I put some ‘o this scaffoldin’ up myself jus’ yesterday. She was solid, I’d bet m’life on it. ‘Ad ‘er tied off tight at the roof.”

Altman poked about the rubble until he came upon some of the fastenings in the jumble of broken wood and stone. “Fastened with these?” He gestured at several thick leather straps. They looked plenty secure, or would have, had they not clearly been nearly sliced through and left to break.

Waldon’s face darkened with anger “Wha’? Blast … Well I’ll be. Heads’re gonna roll over this! When I find out who—”

“No, wait. Say nothing to anyone just yet. I have an idea … Would you round up two of your most trustworthy men and meet me out where the rocks run red with iron? I think I may just be able to get to the bottom of this.”

The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 10)

A short time later, Altman tracked Waldon down. Before he could get a word out, the other man spoke. “Dolet, I need t’talk to you. The men, they’re growin’ fearful. It’s gettin’ hard t’get ‘em workin’.”

“I wish I could blame them. I wanted to talk to you too, out of earshot of the men. Waldon, there’s no luck involved here, bad or otherwise. The branch that came down earlier was cut. Someone’s causing this intentionally.”

Waldon grunted, surprise flickering across his eyes. “Cut? Yer sure about that?”

“As certain as can be. It was cut from the top, deep enough that it was bound to fall.”

“Clumsy way to arrange an accident if y’ask me. How’d ‘e know there’d be anyone ‘round for it t’land on?”

“That had crossed my mind too,” and it had. He’d been thinking about it the whole time he’d sought Waldon out. “It could be he had somehow set it up to fall when he wanted it to. I didn’t see any sign of a line on the fallen branch, but it could have been removed.”

The Price of Demand (Reintegration Edit 9)

Altman spent several hours at the scene of the accident, going over every stone and brick he could get his hands on, even climbing up to the almost-finished rooftop to see what the stones there might tell him. As close as he looked though, even with the greatest magnification his adjustable goggles afforded him, nothing shed any new light on the circumstances.

It was after his fruitless climb that he turned his attention to the wayward branch that had felled the latest victim. “Blast, if only I’d thought to look sooner!” The broken end of the branch was only half-broken. The other half was clearly rough-cut, probably by one of the hand saws that were in plentiful supply around the work sites.

He spent the next hour carefully inspecting the tree that the branch had been cut from even climbing that in order to inspect both sides carefully. It had been cut from the top down, and looked like it had been chosen for the unobstructed path it would have down to the roof below.