He stopped beside his cart and listened while the others continued discussing software revisions. Another click came from the open cabinet, followed by the brief rise of a fan that seemed to lose its nerve before it properly began. Marcus looked toward the floor, then back toward the cabinet. His body remembered that sound even before his mind had finished naming it.
When he was in his twenties, he had spent a winter repairing refrigeration controllers in restaurants that could not afford to close for a day. A worn contactor or a false signal could make a perfectly healthy machine behave as though it were dying. He had learned the difference by standing beside equipment long enough to notice not just when it stopped, but what happened immediately before. The particular click in the corridor pulled him backward through years he rarely spoke about.
"Excuse me," he said, keeping his voice low. Peter turned, his expression already tired of interruptions, and looked at the cloth in Marcus's hand. "Can I help you?"
Peter asked. Marcus shifted his weight. "Sorry. I just heard something coming from the cabinet."
Peter listened for a moment, then turned back toward the laptop. "We're aware of the startup problem," he said. "It's under review." Marcus nodded, prepared to move away, because he knew a polite dismissal when he heard one. Then the click came again, clear enough that Natalie looked toward the door.
"What did you hear?" she asked. Marcus glanced at the equipment rather than at her title or the expensive conference table behind her. "It sounds like a relay trying to engage and dropping out," he said. "I'm not saying that's the failed part. I'm saying something may be telling it to stop."
Gerald came closer and listened for another cycle. "That's what we're trying to understand," he said. Peter folded his arms, but Luis leaned toward the cabinet with new attention. Natalie looked from one face to another. "You know this equipment?" she asked Marcus.
"Not this model," Marcus answered. "I used to repair commercial equipment, though. Sometimes the old machines teach you how to listen to the new ones." He gave a brief, apologetic smile, aware that his cart was still blocking part of the corridor. "I can move along if I'm in the way."
Natalie studied him for several seconds. She had spent the evening hearing people tell her that the system was complex, that the supplier had not returned a call, and that they would probably have an answer by morning. This man had given her neither a promise nor a presentation. He had identified one observable behavior and admitted what he did not know.
"Could you take a look with them?" she asked. Peter turned toward her. "Natalie, we have a licensed team on this." She nodded without taking her eyes off Marcus. "And you'll remain the licensed team. I'm asking whether another set of eyes might help."