The man with gray hair knew that.
He had been part of the final transition team.
“Why did you keep the transceiver?” he asked when the others left the room.
I looked at the red folder.
“Because you told me never to depend on one system.”
He winced.
“I did say that.”
“A lot.”
“I was annoying.”
“You were relentless.”
“And yet you kept the radio.”
I leaned back.
“I kept a door.”
He understood immediately.
For years I had told myself the concealed panel was practical. A backup. A relic I never intended to use.
It was more than that.
It was proof that if the civilian life failed around me, Echo Actual still existed somewhere I could reach.
That realization made me angrier than the intercept.
“Who left the authentication active?”
He looked toward the closed door.
“We’re finding out.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
I stood.
“Then I want another question answered. Why was I allowed into that airspace?”
He did not tell me to sit down.
“The exercise area changed this morning.”
“Public notice?”
“A revised restriction was issued through military channels. The civilian deconfliction did not update the way it should have.”
“So the pilots saw an airplane where no airplane was supposed to be.”
