It is my responsibility to catch failing parts before they fail on people, he said simply. 4 minutes. He worked in silence. After that, the bypass sequence was familiar. He'd done it a dozen times on older lifts and the car descended smoothly to the ninth floor landing.
He had the door open before it fully stopped. Viven Callaway stepped out. He knew who she was. Obviously, you didn't work in a building for 2 years without learning whose name was on the lobby wall. But he hadn't interacted with her directly before.
She was taller than he'd expected somehow. Or maybe it was the posture, the particular kind of straight spine stillness that came from years of being the most important person in every room she walked into. She looked at him with the dark eyes that were still recalibrating from what had clearly been despite the controlled voice on the intercom. At least a few minutes of genuine discomfort. You okay?
Marcus asked. Yes, she looked at the elevator then back at him. Thank you. That was faster than I expected. The bypass is straightforward once you know the shaft.
He picked up his kit. For future reference, there's a red fault indicator on the call panel. Small light upper left corner. If that's on when you press the button. Best practice is to take the stairs and report it.
She looked at him steadily. Are you giving me safety instructions? I'm giving you information, Marcus said. What you do with it is your business. Something shifted in her expression.
Not softened exactly, more like rearranged, like furniture moved 2 in and suddenly the room looks different. That's a useful distinction, she said. Most things are if you look at them right, he gestured toward the stairwell. Stairs are clear. Lobby elevators running fine.
You can pick that up on 10. He turned to go. What's your name? He looked back. Marcus Webb.
Facilities level two. Viven Callaway, she said, which was unnecessary, and they both knew it, but she said it anyway. And he appreciated the gesture in a way he couldn't quite articulate. I know," he said and smiled and headed back toward the mechanical room. She thought about him more than made sense.
Viv wasn't the kind of person who spent time examining her own mental wandering. She was too busy to indulge in self analysis beyond what was functionally necessary. But she caught herself in the days after the service elevator noticing Marcus Webb in the building. Not in a way that felt like anything. Just noticing the way he moved through a floor with a tool bag slung over one shoulder, unhurried and focused.
The way the maintenance crew talked to him differently than they talked to each other. Not with deference, but with the easy comfort of people who trusted his read on things. The way he seemed to actually enjoy his work, which was not a quality Viv encountered often in people at any level of an organization. She started reviewing the maintenance request logs, not for any particular reason, just reviewing. She found that the service elevator fault he'd mentioned had been flagged for repair twice over the past 8 weeks.