“If I’m right, it should stop as soon as the moisture gets into the wrong place.”
Ace looked toward the motorcycle’s controls.
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then we’ll know that wasn’t it.”
Something about the answer made him smile faintly.
She wasn’t promising him a miracle.
She was proposing a test that could prove or disprove her own theory.
Ace handed her the bottle.
Then he looked toward the mechanics.
“Everybody give her room.”
The men stepped back from the Harley, leaving enough space for Emma to position herself safely beside the motorcycle.
Ace remained close to the controls.
The senior mechanic stood where he could observe both Emma and the engine’s behavior.
Nobody was laughing anymore.
Emma checked the spray bottle.
The nozzle was set to produce a fine mist rather than a direct stream.
She adjusted her position, making certain she could reach the outside of the connector without putting her hand near any moving or hot components.
Ace glanced at her.
Emma studied the connector one final time.
She wanted to be certain the water would contact only the area she was testing.
The motorcycle had already been through enough unnecessary work.
She wasn’t interested in creating another problem while trying to identify the first.
“Okay,” she said.
Ace reached for the ignition.
He started the Harley.
The engine fired instantly.
Its deep mechanical rumble filled the room, sounding strong and even.
She brought the spray bottle toward the connector and gave it a single, light squeeze.
A fine mist settled against the plastic housing.
The engine shut off immediately.
Not after four seconds.
Not after gradually losing power.
The instant the moisture reached the connection, the Harley went silent.