Chapter 15 — Climbing Through the Storm

At the low-voltage station, Khánh Thi had just tightened the last connector when the radio on her shoulder rang, the voice of the dispatcher on duty rang out with a new urgent tone.

"Site team at the hospital low pressure station, this is the dispatch center. New update from doctor Thục: the hospital generator's reserve oil is only enough to run for about fifty minutes, lower than expected because an auxiliary generator just had a technical problem, the entire load was transferred to the main generator."

Khánh Thi and Vọng looked at each other, both understanding what that number meant: the amount of extra time they thought they had suddenly shrunk to almost nothing.

"How far until it's over?" Vọng asked, his hands still working quickly with the last connector.

"This is the final step," Khánh Thi replied, checking the connection diagram one last time. "But after the match is over, we still have to wait for the dispatch center to test power and check that there are no problems before we can officially supply power to the hospital."

"So do it quickly but don't make mistakes," Vọng spoke, his voice tense but his hands still steady.

They completed the final connection in concentrated silence, each move performed with a precision that they both knew left no room for error, not because they feared reprimand, but because behind this wall of the low-pressure station, less than two kilometers away, were ventilators running on the last drops of diesel.

"Connection completed." Khánh Thi reported via walkie-talkie, her voice trembling slightly because of both nervousness and fatigue accumulated from the whole day. "Recommend that the dispatch center conduct a test energization."

"Receive orders, prepare to test power." The shift leader's voice replied, and Khánh Thi could hear the clicking of the keyboard behind the voice, a sign of a process being carried out hastily but still carefully.

The two backed away to a safe distance according to regulations, waiting for a long moment, although in reality it only lasted less than a minute.

"Close the power." The shift leader's voice rang out over the intercom.

A small "click" sounded from the low-voltage substation electrical cabinet, and the indicator lights on the measuring devices began to light up, the voltage meter needle gradually moved to the standard position.

"There is voltage at the low voltage station, the parameters are within the safe threshold." Khánh Thi reported, reading each number on the meter with a precision she had never done so quickly in her life.

There was a short silence, then the shift leader's voice rang out, this time with undisguised excitement.

"Confirmed, the hospital has restored power. Relaying information to Dr. Thục right now."

Khánh Thi stood still for a second, unable to believe what she had just heard, then she turned to Vọng, both of them burst into a scream, unable to hold back, even though they were exhausted after a long and eventful day.

"Done," Vọng spoke, his voice choked, he raised his hand to rub his eyes, not sure if it was because of the sand dust or because of another emotion that was suddenly rising.

"It's really done," Khánh Thi repeated, a feeling of relief flooded her body, creeping into every muscle that was aching from working all day without stopping.

The radio rang again, this time it was Dr. Thục's voice, connected directly through the dispatch center.

"Field team, this is doctor Thục. We have just confirmed that the power grid is working stably in the entire treatment area. The backup generator has been switched to standby mode. I... I don't know what to say other than thank you from the bottom of my heart to your entire team."

Her voice trembled at the end of the sentence, a rare emotion revealed after so many hours of having to maintain professionalism under the pressure of life and death.

"We're just doing our job right," Khánh Thi replied, but as soon as she said it, she realized it wasn't entirely true, because what they had just experienced, from Thắng's incident on pole 49 to her own decision to climb up, was not simply a job, but something bigger than that.

"Please convey my thanks to Mr. Thắng," Doctor Thục continued. "I heard he was injured during repairs. I hope he recovers soon."

"We will pass on the message," Vọng replied, his voice could not hide his emotions.

At the branch office, Lượng was standing in front of the power grid monitoring screen when the square representing the hospital's low-voltage station changed from red to green, and he stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the table, his head bowed, a posture that anyone who saw could recognize that it was a person who had just relieved a burden that had been on his shoulders for many days.

"The hospital station has power," he spoke to the shift leader, his voice hoarse from not taking a break all day.

"Yes, I see you," she replied, unable to hide the smile on her lips even though her eyes were dark from lack of sleep.

Lượng pulled out his phone and intended to call Thắng to inform him, but saw that the screen had a message from Khánh Thi sent to the team's group, along with a short line announcing the good news. He just smiled and typed back a simple response: "Thank you everyone. Rest, the rest will be worked out tomorrow."

He looked out the window, where Hải Lộng town below was still largely in darkness, with only a few scattered clusters of light from home generators or flashlights, and he knew clearly that the journey to restore power to the entire district was far from complete, but at least the most important point, the point that could not wait, had been resolved.

Hanging up the radio, Khánh Thi sat down next to the low-voltage substation electrical cabinet, feeling like all the strength in her body had just been released at once, leaving a bone-deep fatigue but accompanied by a joy that she had never experienced in any job before.

"Call and inform Mr. Thắng," Vọng said, sitting down next to her, equally exhausted.

Khánh Thi pulled out her phone and called Thắng, and when he answered the phone, his voice seemed both sleepy and anxiously waiting.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, without saying hello.

"The hospital has electricity, uncle," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "Successfully turned on. Doctor Thục has just confirmed that all ventilators are running on grid power, not generators anymore." There was silence on the other end of the line, and when Thắng spoke again, his voice could not hide the chokingness.

"Very good," he spoke, just two words, but they contained more than any lengthy compliment could express. "You did great, Khánh Thi," It was the first time he called her by her full name instead of just "she", and Khánh Thi noticed that small change, felt its weight more than any flowery compliment.

"Thank you for trusting me," she replied, tears suddenly welling up, unable to hold back anymore, tears of a long day filled with many fears, many efforts, and in the end, a result worthy of all that.

Vọng sat next to him, pretending to look away to give her some privacy, but the corners of his eyes were equally red, even though he tried to hide it by standing up to tidy up the tools scattered around the base of the electrical cabinet.

Not far away, a rescue vehicle from the telecommunications company was also passing by, carrying equipment to restore the central switchboard, and the driver honked his horn when he saw the electricity team resting next to the low-voltage station, a small gesture between people who had spent a long night fighting the consequences of the storm.

Khánh Thi wiped her tears, pulled out her phone and called home, where her mother-in-law was probably rocking baby Bin to sleep after a long day of waiting for news from her daughter-in-law.

"Mom, I'm done," she said when the call was picked up, her voice was still shaking from unresolved emotions.

"Godsend." Her mother-in-law's voice rang out, slowly due to the aftereffects of the stroke but still filled with relief. "Bin asked mom all the time, he's sleeping now. Go home early and rest, don't try too hard."

"I know, mom," Khánh Thi replied, a tired but warm smile blooming on her lips. "I'm almost home."

Hanging up the phone, she sat for a while longer, looking up at the completely clear night sky, the stars appeared clearly as if no storm had ever swept through this place, and in her heart, a rare feeling of peace crept in, alternating between the extreme fatigue of her body.

"Let's go home," Vọng said, reaching out his hand to pull her up again that day, his voice had lost its usual impatience. "Tomorrow is still long, there's still a lot to do, but at least tonight, I get a good night's sleep." Khánh Thi nodded, put her tool bag on her shoulder, followed him towards the old pickup truck, and for the first time after two days of continuous stress, she felt her body clearly asking for rest, no longer overwhelmed by adrenaline or fear.