(Rebecca's POV)
Then the phone rings. His name on the screen, the letters still swimming. I answer because answering is the last automatic thing my body knows how to do.
Ring, answer. Ring, answer.
A reflex deeper than cold.
"Rebecca." His voice fills the room. White. Cold. It presses the quiet back from the edges. "I need you to talk to me. Can you do that?"
"Mm."
"Tell me about torque ratios."
Air leaves my nose. Almost a laugh. "What?"
"Torque ratios. For the quadruped. The front leg recovery sequence. Walk me through it."
He doesn't need the answer. He knows the answer. He built the frame. He wants my mouth moving so I don't slide under.
"The— the ratio is three to one on the front actuator." My voice drags. Thick. "Two point eight on the rear."
"Good. What was the worst cod
