“The fence was easy to climb.”
One of the security officers reached for her arm.
Leona stepped back.
“Don’t touch me.”
Victor studied her dirty boots, the old coat, and the canvas bag hanging from her shoulder.
“You trespassed onto a private train.”
“I needed to speak to you.”
“You could have contacted my office.”
“I tried.”
“Then you should have made an appointment.”
“I sent twenty-three letters.”
Victor’s expression remained cold.
“My staff receives thousands of letters.”
“I know. They returned mine unopened.”
The lights flickered again.
This time they did not immediately recover.
A woman screamed from the far end of the carriage.
The conductor checked his device.
“Emergency power has dropped to seventy percent.”
Leona looked toward the floor.
“You have less than forty minutes.”
The conductor frowned.
“The system says thirty-six.”
“The system is measuring the batteries, not the ice forming around the intake.”
Victor felt irritation rise in him.
“You expect me to believe that a child understands my engine better than the people who built it?”
Leona’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
She took a small metal tool from her pocket.
It was a folding caliper, old and scratched from years of use.
“I expect you to believe the person who taught me.”
She moved toward the engine carriage.
The security officers blocked her path.
Victor looked at the conductor.
“Can she damage the system?”
“The system is already disabled.”
“That was not my question.”
The conductor hesitated.
“With access to the turbine chamber, yes.”
Leona gave a humorless smile.
“You don’t need my help to destroy it. You’ve nearly done that yourselves.”
Victor stepped closer until he stood directly in front of her.
“What do you need?”
“A twelve-millimeter wrench, insulated gloves, a copper pin, and five minutes.”
“And if you are wrong?”
“Then your engineers can continue failing without me.”
Another gust struck the train.
The carriage leaned slightly against the wind.
A child began crying somewhere among the passengers.
Victor glanced at the cameras pointed toward him. Every decision he made would be recorded. Allowing an unknown girl into the engine compartment could destroy his reputation.
Refusing her might destroy far more.
“Give her what she asked for,” he said.
The conductor’s eyes widened.
“Sir?”
“Do it.”
They moved through three darkened carriages toward the front of the train.
Leona walked quickly, using one hand against the wall whenever the Aurora Crown swayed. Victor followed her with the conductor and two security officers.
The temperature dropped with every carriage they crossed.
In the engine room, red emergency lights illuminated a maze of pipes, cables, and steel housings. Steam curled through the air. The turbine vibrated with a low, uneven growl.
Leona stopped inside the doorway.
Her face became completely still.
“What is it?” Victor asked.
“She sounds worse in here.”
“You speak about the engine as though it were alive.”
“All machines speak. Most people are too loud to hear them.”
She placed her canvas bag on the floor and removed her coat. Beneath it, she wore an old gray sweater with several repaired holes along the sleeves.
The conductor handed her the wrench and gloves.
“You cannot remove any pressurized component,” he warned.
“I know.”
“You cannot touch the primary fuel line.”
“I know.”
“You must not disengage the containment seal.”
Leona looked at him.
“Do you want to explain the engine to me, or do you want me to fix it?”
The conductor fell silent.
Leona climbed onto the narrow maintenance platform beside the turbine. She pressed one gloved hand against a pipe and closed her eyes.
The turbine knocked.
She moved her hand.
It knocked again.
“There you are,” she whispered.
Victor watched her remove a protective panel.
Behind it, a cluster of frost-covered valves trembled under pressure.
The conductor stepped forward.
“That section isn’t included in the public schematics.”
“It was included in the original ones,” Leona replied.
She pointed toward a thin metal cylinder.
“The automatic bypass is trapped halfway between open and closed. The computer thinks it’s moving, but the connector is turning without the valve.”
“That connector is titanium,” Victor said.
“It was supposed to be.”
Leona scraped the surface with the edge of her tool. Small silver flakes fell away.
“This is an alloy substitute.”
The conductor stared at it.
“That material becomes brittle below minus twenty degrees.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Leona did not answer.
The train shook violently.
A warning alarm began to sound.
Pressure readings climbed across the control panel.
Leona reached for the valve.
The conductor grabbed her shoulder.
“If you open that manually, the coolant could rupture the chamber.”