Mark Wyler held his hand out behind him for the tool he’d requested. Not feeling the cold steel slap into his hand as he expected, he repeated the order a bit louder. Still nothing. Grumbling, he backed out from beneath the control panel he was working on and found himself alone. Then he remembered Trevvik’s return, smelling of alcohol and full of stories that distracted Asya from assisting Mark in the job he was wrapping up, and then the two of them heading back to the living complex. That was hours ago. That recollection was followed soon after by that of the conversation he’d been carrying on.
To no one. Probably for quite some time. He sighed and rummaged around for the tool himself. Coming up with it, he put the final panel in place and locked it down.