Now she was holding the explanation for three days of frustration.
One mechanic spoke from behind them.
“I checked that harness.”
Nobody answered.
He continued, sounding more troubled than defensive.
“I looked all through that area.”
Emma glanced at him.
“I believe you.”
The man frowned.
“Then how did I miss it?”
Emma looked down at the weather seal.
“Because it probably looked fine.”
The mechanic considered that answer.
He knew she wasn’t trying to humiliate him.
She was explaining why the damage could remain hidden even when someone performed a reasonable inspection.
That made the discovery harder to dismiss.
It also made it useful.
Ace held out his hand.
“Can I see it?”
Emma passed him the separated connector.
He turned it carefully, following the thin crack with his eyes.
The damaged material was almost laughably small.
It seemed impossible that such a minor defect could affect a machine built with so much power and care.
But that was the nature of electrical problems.
A motorcycle could have an engine capable of carrying a heavy rider across hundreds of miles, yet depend on a tiny connection to tell its computer that everything was operating safely.
Ace looked at the seal.
Then he looked at Emma.
“How did seventeen mechanics miss that?”
The room became quiet again.
This time, nobody seemed interested in laughing.
Emma lowered the flashlight and wiped her hands on a clean section of cloth.
She considered her answer.
Then she looked at Ace.
“They were looking for something broken all the time.”
Ace frowned slightly.
Emma pointed toward the connector.
“This only breaks when it gets wet.”