Page 22 of Technically Abducted
"What was the simulated death toll even when they did solve it following protocols?"
His lips press together in a thin line, and for a moment I think he won't answer. Then, quietly: "I lost five in the scenario when I took the assessment."
The words hit differently than I expected. Even knowing they're simulated casualties, there's real weight in his voice - like he's been carrying the memory of that failure.
"I get it. You have procedures for a reason. But sometimes the situation requires adaptation."
He doesn't release my wrist, but his grip loosens slightly. I can feel his pulse through the contact—faster than I expected.
"The assessment requires documentation of systematic approaches," he says, but there's less conviction in his voice now.
"Then document this: sometimes the fastest way to solve a problem is to actually solve it."
I turn back to the system, Tev'ra's hand still on my wrist. The burned smell is getting stronger, which means the cascade failure is spreading. In another few minutes, the whole thing will be completely fried.
"There," I say, pointing to a junction about three components deep in the maze. "That's your blown relay. Replace that one component, reroute power through the secondary conduit, and everything comes back online."
"How can you be certain without comprehensive analysis?"
"Because I can see the problem." I trace the circuit path with my free hand. "Look—power flow disrupted here, backup systems engaged here, overflow protection triggered there. It's all connected."
Tev'ra follows my gesture, his head tilted slightly. "The systematic approach would verify each connection point to ensure—"
"And by the time you finished verifying, the overflow would have burned out half the secondary systems too." I glance at him. "Trust me on this one?"
For a moment, he just stares at the system. I can almost see the internal battle playing out—protocols versus results, systematic versus intuitive.
Finally, he releases my wrist and reaches for a tool I don't recognize from a panel that wasn't there a moment ago.
"If your assessment is incorrect," he says, moving toward the access point with visible reluctance, "the consequences could affect my evaluation of your methods."
"Then I'll take responsibility for the consequences."
He pauses, tool halfway to the access point. "You would accept accountability for assessment failure?"
"That's what I do with my clients every day," I say. "Their systems break, their lives get disrupted. If I screw up, real people get hurt. So yeah, I take responsibility."
Something changes in Tev'ra's expression. The formal distance wavers, replaced by something that looks almost like curiosity.
"This is why you were concerned about returning to Earth," he realizes. "Your clients depend on your immediate availability."
"They depend on me, period." I watch him work, his movements precise and economical. "Most of them don't have anyone else."
"And you consider this... protection of vulnerable individuals to be part of your technical responsibilities?"
"I consider it part of being human."
Tev'ra's hands still for just a moment. Then he continues working, but something about his posture has shifted. Less rigid, more focused.
He makes the repair exactly as I suggested—remove the blown component, reroute power, restore primary function. The warning lights stop flashing. The acrid smell begins to fade.
The whole process takes maybe six minutes.
"Assessment scenario completed," Tev'ra says, checking a display that appears on the wall. "System restored to full functionality." He looks at me with something that might be amazement. "This will require... significant documentation adjustments."
"Good different or bad different?"
"That remains to be determined," he says, but I catch that almost-smile again. "The assessment parameters did not account for solutions of this... efficiency."
