The room absorbed the news in silence.
Six months.
A contract penalty already approaching.
Nobody had a better answer.
Elijah happened to be in the room.
He had entered to replace a full trash bin near the bay and stopped along the back wall when the fault code on the screen caught his attention.
For 3 nights, he had listened to engineers discussing the problem.
Picking up pieces.
Something about their conclusion felt wrong.
He should have replaced the bin and left.
He didn't.
"Sir," Elijah said from the back corner.
His voice was quiet.
But it carried.
Every head turned.
"I've been hearing the crew talk about the fault. I don't think it's the control board."
Dale's face changed.
He walked slowly toward Elijah, boots heavy against the concrete.
"You don't think?"
His voice was flat.
"You've been hearing the crew talk?"
Dale stopped several feet away.
"You empty the trash. You mop the floor. What exactly makes you think you understand a $2 million machine better than 12 engineers who've had their hands inside it for 72 hours?"
"I'm not saying that, sir. I'm saying the fault pattern doesn't match a dead board."
Elijah pointed toward the screen.
"A dead board wouldn't..."
"Stop."
Dale's voice cut through the room.
"You don't speak in a technical meeting."
He stepped closer.
"Not in my division."
Another pause.
"Not ever."
The room went still.
Elijah closed his mouth.
But he didn't lower his eyes.
Somehow that seemed to anger Dale more than an argument would have.
Dale turned toward the rest of the room and forced a narrow smile.
"Since our night janitor has so much technical insight, let's put it to use."
He looked back at Elijah.
"The loading dock floor is filthy. There's a mop in the west closet."
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
"That's your contribution to this machine. That's what you're here for."
Two engineers laughed.
A third shook his head.
One young engineer near the back, a woman named Priya, did not laugh.
She stared at the floor, visibly uncomfortable.
She said nothing.
And hated herself a little for saying nothing.
Elijah stood in place for a long 5 seconds.
Then he did something nobody expected.
He set the trash bin down.
Walked toward the whiteboard.
Picked up a marker.
"May I?"
It wasn't really a question.
Before Dale could stop him, Elijah began drawing.
Fast.
Clean.
The spindle's thermal monitoring system.
Heat sensors.
Connector block.
Signal path from the sensor into the board.
The safety cutoff monitoring the entire circuit.
Elijah wasn't guessing.
The lines were sure.
The labels correct.