The auxiliary circulation stabilized. The abnormal temperature disagreement narrowed. Elena checked the sensor values twice, then looked at Okafor. "The protective condition is clearing," she said. There was relief in her voice, and something else: the uncomfortable knowledge that all the information had been available before the competition if the maintenance team had taken the right questions seriously.
Russell examined the fault history once more. One timing input had moved physically; one exhaust component had stuck under accumulated deposits; and one cooling line had trapped air near a high point, allowing a thermal condition to interrupt the startup logic. None of the failures required magic to understand. Together, however, they had produced a confusing cluster of warnings that kept drawing technicians toward the electronics rather than the mechanical sources.
He had not repaired the entire vessel. He knew that as well as anyone in the room. The sensor mount still required a certified replacement fastener, the exhaust assembly needed a proper cleaning and inspection, and the cooling system would need to be pressure-tested and checked for the reason air had entered. But he had identified the immediate conditions preventing a controlled start, and he had restored them sufficiently for the independent engineer to decide whether a limited test was justified.
Okafor reviewed the current readings and the mechanical checks. "No protective system has been bypassed," he said into the service radio. "All active interlocks must remain functional. We'll authorize a controlled idle start, and we'll stop immediately if anything falls outside the temporary test envelope."
Above deck Thornton pressed a hand against the railing. He had wanted the boy to fail noisily enough that everyone would remember the humiliation, but his own maintenance logs were beginning to speak from the screens. The spectators had stopped looking at Russell's apron. They were watching his work, and every practical decision seemed to lead farther away from Thornton's explanation of the problem.
Russell stood at the control station. The green ring around the start control was still dark while the system completed its pre-start checks. Elena glanced at the clock. Four minutes and twenty-one seconds. Russell could hear his heartbeat over the ventilation hum, and his fingers had begun to tremble for the first time since he stepped aboard.
He thought of Denise asleep after a double shift, her hands chapped from industrial detergent. He thought of Captain Reeves waiting beside the refrigerated van, certain that the boy had probably talked himself into trouble. And he thought of Earl in the old shop, asking him to describe the sound again before deciding he understood it. The memory steadied him more effectively than any speech about courage could have done.
"What do you hear?" Earl's voice seemed to ask.
Russell listened. The auxiliary pump sounded even now. The timing feedback settled into a regular pattern, and the cooling circulation no longer had the nervous interruption that had drawn his attention from the parking lot. He looked at Okafor instead of the camera. "I'm ready if you are."