No one was laughing anymore.
Carter moved toward one of the technicians.
“Check the calibration.”
The technician looked at him.
“We already did.”
“Check it again.”
Martin turned.
“Mr.
Hale, you’re an observer here.”
Carter stepped back.
Elijah said nothing.
The final efficiency calculation appeared.
Diana read it once.
Then again.
The precise result mattered less than the comparison displayed beside it.
Under the tested conditions, Elijah’s improvised system had achieved a combination of efficiency, thermal stability and response that placed it beyond the benchmark used for the class.
Not by magic.
Not by an impossible margin.
By enough that everyone in the room understood they were looking at something serious.
Martin removed his glasses and cleaned them even though they were not dirty.
“Mr.
Monroe,” he said, “how many hours are on this prototype?”
“Just over eleven hundred.”
Carter’s head snapped toward him.
“Eleven hundred?”
“Mostly road testing.”
“In this car?”
“Yes.”
Diana looked through the glass at the cracked windshield and dented door.
The junk car had not merely transported the prototype.
It had been the prototype’s test platform for years.
“What failures?” Martin asked.
“Plenty.”
A few people smiled.
Elijah continued.
“Early injectors overheated.
First electric coupling lasted six weeks.
I destroyed two control boards and cracked a prototype chamber during winter testing.”
“And the current configuration?”
“Three hundred eighty-seven hours without a critical failure.”
Carter shook his head.
“You documented that?”
Elijah reached behind the passenger seat and lifted a thick, battered binder.
“Every hour.”
He placed it on the roof.
Handwritten notes filled some pages.
Others contained printed logs, diagrams, temperatures and revisions.
Tabs separated failures from design changes.
Martin opened the binder.
Diana watched his expression as he turned page after page.
This was not a man who had accidentally stumbled onto one impressive test result.
This was engineering.
Carter seemed to understand that at the same moment.
His posture changed.
“Mr.
Monroe,” he said, suddenly smoother, “have you discussed this design with any manufacturer?”
