Maya looked at Logan.
He shrugged.
“Could’ve worked loose.”
“Ethernet latch?”
“Anything can.”
She plugged it in.
The security monitor flickered.
Four camera feeds appeared.
Three had current images.
The shop feed showed black.
Maya traced the cable.
At the camera above the rafters, the connector had been cut.
Cleanly.
Clayton stared.
Logan said:
“Could be rodents.”
Maya looked down from the ladder.
“A mouse with diagonal cutters?”
Luke laughed once.
No one else did.
Clayton turned toward Logan.
“Give me your keys.”
Logan froze.
“What?”
“Shop keys.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I am?”
“You’re taking her side based on a camera cable?”
“I’m taking control of my building.”
Logan’s face reddened.
“After eleven years?”
Clayton held out his hand.
“Keys.”
Logan pulled the ring from his belt and threw it.
Not handed.
Threw.
It struck Clayton’s chest and fell.
Luke stepped forward.
Clayton raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
Logan pointed at Maya.
“You think she’s saving you?”
“She’s using you.”
“For what?”
“A hundred cows?”
He laughed.
“She saw an old man desperate enough to make a stupid bet.”
Maya said:
“You’re right about the bet.”
Clayton looked at her.
She shrugged.
“It was stupid.”
Luke almost smiled.
Logan did not.
“She’s going to fail.”
Maya turned toward machine four.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
Logan walked out.
Clayton picked up the keys.
His hands were shaking.
Maya pretended not to notice.
By day three evening, three machines passed field tests.
Machine four exposed another layer.
The hydraulic system had metal contamination.
Not catastrophic yet.
Enough to damage valves and pump surfaces.
Maya pulled a filter.
Cut it open.
Fine metallic debris glittered in the pleats.
Clayton stared.
“Normal?”
“No.”
“How bad?”
“Could be wear.”
“But?”
She smelled the oil.
Then took a sample.
“Someone may have introduced contaminated fluid.”
Clayton swore.
“How long?”
“Don’t know.”
“Can you fix?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Flush.”
“Filter.”
“Inspect valves.”
“Maybe pump.”
“How long?”
“A day if nothing’s damaged badly.”
“We don’t have a day.”
“I have four days.”
“You have six machines.”
“Then stop talking.”
He stared.
Then nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Luke heard and laughed so hard he nearly dropped a grease gun.
By the morning of day four, the ranch had changed around her.
The jokes stopped.
Ranch hands who had watched her arrive with amusement now came to ask what she needed.
A seventeen-year-old apprentice named Noah appeared with breakfast burritos.