A network that expected something to fail.
A network that didn’t collapse just because one part became unreliable.
“You invented this alone?” Wendell asked.
Jaylen nodded.
“Where did you learn distributed control?”
Jaylen frowned.
“I don’t know what that is.”
Wendell laughed quietly.
“It means my engineers have been using very expensive words to work on something you started solving in a shed with scrap metal.”
Jaylen looked uncertain.
“Is that good?”
“It might be extremely good.”
Then a floorboard creaked behind them.
Wendell turned.
Lorna Tate stood in the doorway.
Jaylen’s mother.
Her face was pale.
Angry.
Afraid.
“Jaylen. Go inside.”
“Mama, he understands it.”
“That’s what frightens me.”
Wendell stepped away from the workbench.
“Mrs. Tate, I’m not here to take anything.”
Her laugh held no humor.
“Men like you always say that.”
“I don’t know what happened before.”
She looked straight at him.
“You own Hayes Renewables.”
Wendell paused.
“Yes.”
“My husband worked for a company you bought.”
The shed seemed to become smaller.
“Caleb Tate,” she continued. “Maintenance technician. Georgia testing facility. Four years ago.”
Jaylen looked at her.
“What?”
Wendell searched his memory.
There had been acquisitions.
Facility closures.
Settlements.
Reports.
Legal files.
But the name meant nothing to him.
“I don’t remember him,” Wendell said.
Lorna’s expression hardened.
“I do.”
Then she told him.
Caleb Tate had reported a dangerous cooling problem in a battery system.
Sensors were giving safe readings even when equipment was overheating.
