“Anything else?”
“Software load verification.”
“Any harness movement?”
“The battery bay requires some access around adjacent wiring.”
Ethan nodded.
“Open the relay inspection panel.”
Andrew looked at him.
“We already inspected it.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why open it?”
“Because I want to see what was moved.”
Victoria’s patience broke.
“Enough.”
Both men looked at her.
She addressed Ethan.
“You have not reviewed the diagnostic package.”
“No.”
“You haven’t reviewed the maintenance logs.”
“No.”
“You haven’t connected a test unit.”
“No.”
“And you’re telling a factory engineer where to look based on listening from twenty yards away.”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of the answer irritated her.
“This aircraft has been grounded for three days.”
“I know.”
“Engineers who designed these systems have been working on it.”
“I know.”
“And you honestly think you can diagnose it in thirty seconds?”
Ethan’s expression remained steady.
“No.”
Victoria waited.
“I think they’ve diagnosed the wrong part of the sequence for three days.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Andrew said, “Open it.”
One of his technicians moved immediately.
Victoria looked at him.
“You’re seriously doing this?”
Andrew did not take his eyes off Ethan.
“It takes thirty seconds to look.”
The panel opened.
Inside was an organized cluster of protected harnesses, relays, connectors, and control hardware.
Nothing appeared wrong.
Andrew gestured.
“There.”
Ethan stepped closer.
He did not touch anything at first.
He crouched.
Looked.
Shifted slightly to see the assembly from another angle.
Then he asked for a flashlight.
A technician handed him one.
Victoria stood several feet away with her arms folded.
Her face said exactly what she thought.
This was wasting time.
Ethan followed one cable path visually.
Then another.
He stopped.
“Who performed the battery change?”
Andrew checked the record.
“A contracted service team Friday evening.”
“Your people?”
“No.”
“Who signed the inspection?”
“Facility maintenance.”
Ethan nodded.
He pointed toward one connector.
“Check the secondary locking position.”
Andrew leaned in.
“It’s seated.”
“Check it.”
Andrew reached toward it, then stopped.
Because this was an aircraft, not a lawn mower.
He called over the licensed technician responsible for the inspection.
The technician verified the aircraft was electrically safe for the check, then examined the connector according to procedure.
At first nothing seemed unusual.
Then he applied light pressure.
A tiny sound followed.
Click.
Everybody close enough heard it.
The connector moved perhaps a millimeter or two into its final lock.
Andrew froze.
The technician looked at him.
“That latch wasn’t fully engaged.”
Andrew leaned closer.
“It tested good.”
“At rest,” Ethan said.
Andrew looked back at him.
Ethan continued.
“During startup vibration, you’re probably losing the data handshake just long enough for the controller to terminate the sequence before the next stage. By the time the system writes the fault, continuity is back.”
The remote engineer on the headset said something.
Andrew listened.
“What?”
He turned toward the monitor positioned on the equipment cart.
One of the factory engineers was speaking rapidly.
Andrew replied, “Yes. We just found partial engagement on the secondary-control connector.”
Pause.