“Because the access violation exists independently from the technical outcome.”
That was legally defensible.
Procedurally defensible.
And exactly the kind of answer Evelyn hated because it left out the human being.
Still, she had been CEO eighteen months.
Every decision involving technical liability came with lawyers, insurers, regulators, drivers, sponsors, and employees.
Her father had been able to ignore process because he built the company before process existed.
Evelyn did not have that luxury.
“Does HR agree?”
“Yes.”
“Legal?”
“Termination is within policy.”
She looked again at the footage.
Mason’s face appeared briefly when he looked toward a camera.
No fear.
No guilt.
Recognition, perhaps.
She could not explain why that bothered her.
“Bring him up.”
Mason arrived twenty minutes later.
Gray Vortex shirt.
Work boots.
Hands clean except for a grease line near his right thumb.
He entered Evelyn’s office and immediately saw the photograph.
The first GT championship car.
Victory lane, 2015.
Richard Vance in the center.
Dominic younger.
Mason, twenty-one, nearly hidden behind two engineers.
Emily at the edge holding Luna.
The image was large, but Mason’s figure was small.
Nobody recognized him anymore.
People changed across ten years.
Grief changed them further.
Mason looked away.
Evelyn noticed.
“Please sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
Cameron remained beside the window.
Evelyn rotated the tablet.
“Can you explain this?”
“Yes.”
Mason watched himself on screen.
“I fixed the engine.”
“You entered a restricted engineering bay without authorization.”
“Yes.”
“You dismantled a competition fuel system.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it was going to fail again.”
Cameron spoke.
“You are a general maintenance mechanic.”
Mason did not look at him.
“You do not hold engineering clearance.”
“No.”
“You have no listed engineering education.”
“No.”
“No certification relevant to the GT7 architecture.”
“No.”
Cameron folded his arms.
“Then what exactly qualified you to perform work three senior engineers and two external consultants could not complete?”
Mason finally looked at him.
Cameron’s expression changed for less than a second.
Recognition.
There.
Mason saw it.
Cameron knew.
Maybe he had always known.
Mason turned back to Evelyn.
“You asked me why I touched it.”
“Yes.”
“Because everyone was diagnosing the current GT7.”
“The failure belongs to the original GT7.”
Evelyn frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“The tertiary pressure housing contains a secondary micro-seal that is absent from your current documentation.”
Cameron interrupted.
“That is enough.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“No.”
Then at Mason.
“Continue.”
“The seal was added during first-generation testing.”
“It controls bypass leakage when the housing expands under sustained thermal load.”
“Your current replacement uses the wrong compound.”
“It hardens.”
“Pressure begins oscillating.”
“Digital control compensates until it cannot.”
Isaac could have given the same explanation after seeing the failed part.
What unsettled Evelyn was the wording.
Not speculation.
History.
“You knew that before opening it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Mason said nothing.
Cameron stepped forward.