Chapter 24 — Late Night Radio

At the Cam Duong Clean Water Plant, hidden behind the casuarina trees at the edge of the western industrial park of the city, less than ten kilometers from Cam Duong Beach Square but belonging to a completely different world - no stage lights, no applause, only the sound of pumps running steadily in the night and cold fluorescent lights shining down on the control panel - Pham Nhat Minh was sitting in the duty room, a small radio placed on the table, the volume turned down low enough for him to hear his voice. Vy echoed from the square, amidst the hum of machinery. He listened to the whole part of Mr. Ngo's story, and had to turn his face away, hiding a tear that suddenly burst out when he heard the old man say the words "I can live to this day, partly thanks to him", because he himself understood that feeling better than anyone else.

There were only three people on duty tonight - him, an older colleague in charge of the settling tank area, and a young technician who had only been on the job for a few months, in charge of the pressure pumping area. It was a normal night like any other in the many years he'd worked here, until, around twelve thirty, a shrill alarm suddenly sounded from the central control panel, red lights flashing rapidly on the pipeline pressure monitor.

Nhat Minh jumped up from his chair, all senses immediately switched to a state of high alert, trained over many years of troubleshooting. He looked at the screen and saw that the pressure reading at the number two regulator was abnormally rising, far exceeding the safety threshold, while the signal from the automatic sensor in that area was continuously reporting errors, not responding - a sign that the automatic pressure relief valve was stuck, perhaps due to a large piece of debris stuck in the transmission mechanism after incomplete maintenance last week.

"Mr. Minh, valve number two is not responding, the pressure is still increasing!" The young technician's voice rang out over the radio, with a bit of panic he couldn't hide.

"Calm down," Nhat Minh replied, his voice, even though his heart was pounding, still maintained the composure of someone who was used to facing long nights alone among silent machines. "Cut off the first level pump immediately, reduce the input flow to a minimum level. I'll go to the number two valve area to check directly."

He grabbed a flashlight and walkie-talkie, rushed out of the duty room, and ran along the wet concrete corridor leading to the outdoor processing area, where a large pipe system ran horizontally like giant blood vessels of the whole city. If the pressure relief valve is not opened in time, the pent-up pressure could cause an old connecting pipe, which has shown signs of deterioration since last month's routine inspection, to crack — not only causing large-scale water loss, but worse, risking unfinished water from the sedimentation tank to back up into the main pipe supplying the residential area in the east of the city, where a children's hospital is located.

Arriving there, Nhat Minh knelt down next to valve number two, shined a flashlight on the transmission mechanism, and saw as he expected - a piece of hard residue had stuck tightly to the control gear, preventing the valve from automatically opening as programmed. He had to open the protective cover and use a backup mechanical lever to manually force open the valve, an operation that required absolute strength and precision, because with just a small wrong angle, the pent-up pressure could turn the lever upside down, causing serious injury.

While he struggled with the valve, the walkie-talkie on his shoulder continuously rang out the call of his older colleague from the sedimentation tank area. "Minh! The pressure inside the settling tank is also increasing. I'm afraid I won't be able to hold it for long. Hurry up!"

The call of his name rang out clearly through the radio, amidst the roar of machinery and rushing water, a small, fleeting detail, no one in that situation had the mind to pay attention to its meaning - except, a few minutes later, hundreds of people standing in the middle of the Cam Duong Beach square.

After nearly ten minutes of struggling, the lever finally gave in, valve number two slowly opened, a strong stream of pressure release water sprayed out the emergency drainage channel, and the pressure reading on the gauge began to drop, slowly but surely. Nhat Minh exhaled, the back of his shirt was drenched in sweat even though the September night was chilly, but he knew that the danger had not yet completely passed - the main valve had been opened, but to thoroughly repair it, they needed to completely block a section of the water pipeline to the eastern residential area for a few hours, which meant that thousands of households would suddenly lose water in the middle of the night, if no one notified them in advance.

"We must inform the people immediately," said the older colleague, running to his side, panting, his face still pale with worry. "Especially in the area near the hospital, if they urgently need water for something, it's dangerous. It's late at this hour, how can we make a phone call from house to house in time? We have to call the radio station, maybe they can make an announcement on loudspeaker right away."

Nhat Minh stood up straight, his mind had now returned to a state of complete alertness after the rush of adrenaline, and in that moment, his first reflex, almost without thinking, was to pull his phone out of his protective coat pocket, his finger quickly scrolling to the most familiar phone number in his contacts - the phone number he had dialed countless times over the past seven months, always in the first position in the list of recent calls. He didn't have time to think that this was a special night, a night where the whole city was gathering in the square, a night where his voice, if it rang out, would not only reach Vy's ears inside the four soundproof walls, but would also resonate among hundreds of people standing there. He only knew that this was the only number he was sure would have someone answer the phone immediately, in the middle of the night, to transmit urgent information to the whole city.

In the square, Hai Duong, sitting behind the control desk, saw the incoming call signal light on the anonymous line system light up, following the habit of routing the call straight to the main speaker as usual when Vy was in the middle of reading the introduction to the next song. But as soon as the voice rang out through the speaker, not the familiar, slow deep voice that usually started with "Hello, Ms. Vy" as usual, but an urgent, tense voice, mixed with the noise of the machinery behind, Hai Duong immediately realized that something unusual was happening.

"Ms. Vy," his voice rang out through the speakers, urgently, so different from the familiar slow rhythm that the whole square, which was passionately listening to a gentle story, suddenly fell silent, hundreds of eyes turned towards the stage. "Sorry for calling in the middle of the program like this, but I need your help, I need your help to inform the people of the city about something very urgent."

Vy stood frozen on the stage, her heart pounding so fiercely that it was almost painful - she recognized that voice immediately, even though it was trembling, more urgent than any time she had ever heard it, even though it was carrying a tone completely foreign to the gentle, slow conversations that had been going on between them for the past seven months. But she didn't have a second to stop, to fully feel that shock, because the instincts of a longtime host immediately took control.

"I'm listening," she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible even though her whole body was shaking. "What's the matter? Please tell me."

"I'm the night shift engineer at Cam Duong Clean Water Plant," he said, his voice, although still breathless from having just gone through a physical struggle, tried to regain the clarity necessary for an important announcement. "We just encountered a technical problem with the pressure regulator. We have handled the most dangerous part, but in order to make a thorough repair, we are forced to temporarily shut down the water pipeline to the eastern area of the city, including the area around the hospital, for the next three to four hours. Please let people in that area know in advance so they can store water in time, especially families with sick people, the elderly, and young children who need water urgently."

Right in the middle of his speech, a sound rang out clearly through the walkie-talkie still attached to his shoulder, accidentally entering the phone line that was broadcasting live through the square's speaker system - the voice of an elderly colleague, urgently, echoed from behind: "Minh, it's okay over here, have you finished reporting? Come back and help me check the auxiliary pipe!"

Just that one short sentence, resounding among hundreds of people holding their breath, listening, was enough to make Ms. Xuan, standing next to the porridge basket in the corner of the square, holding the porridge ladle in her hand, suddenly stop mid-sentence, eyes wide open, and turn sharply towards the nearest speaker. That name - Minh - along with his deep, slow voice, along with the words "night shift" that had just been mentioned, all suddenly echoed in her mind with a specific image: the skinny young man in a gray-green protective suit, once standing at the counter of her shop ordering a bowl of onion porridge with little pepper, that voice, that voice, was unmistakable.

She stood silently for a moment, the porridge ladle shaking slightly in her hand, her eyes not leaving the stage, where Vy was standing, her face also turning white under the lights, trying to keep her voice calm to complete the important announcement being broadcast throughout the city.

"Sorry," Vy said, trying to keep her voice steady, even though her hand was clenching the microphone until her knuckles turned white, "let me confirm the information clearly with everyone - which areas will be affected, and how long will it take specifically, so everyone can prepare?"

"The Dong Hai ward area and the surrounding roads of the city hospital," he replied, his voice was calmer, clearer, as if he was trying to concentrate all his remaining professionalism to properly fulfill his responsibilities despite all the emotional turmoil that might be going on inside. "It is expected from about one o'clock to five o'clock in the morning. I am Pham Nhat Minh, engineer on duty at the factory. If you need to verify more information, you can contact the factory hotline, I will leave the phone number for the editorial board right here."

That name - Pham Nhat Minh - rang clearly and slowly through the large speaker system, spreading throughout the square, touching the ears of hundreds of people standing silently listening, touching the ears of Ms. stopped, while she still had to, with some extraordinary strength she didn't know where she got it from, continue to keep her voice calm, continue to fulfill the responsibility of a presenter who was transmitting urgent information to the whole city, even though her heart was now beating wildly because of a completely different earthquake, an earthquake that no one in the crowd, except perhaps a woman standing silently beside a basket of porridge, could understand.

"Thank you," Vy said, her voice was noticeably hoarse even though she tried to control it as best as she could, "thank you for reporting the news promptly. People in the Dong Hai ward area and around the city hospital, please store water now, it is expected that water will last from one hour to five in the morning. We will continue to update the situation as soon as we have more information."

The line was silent for a moment, and before Hai Duong could disconnect the call according to the usual procedure, Nhat Minh's voice rang out one last time, quieter, just enough to pass through the speakers like a whisper among the thousands of other sounds of the night, a sentence that only Vy, in the entire crowd, could fully understand its true meaning. "Sorry for interrupting tonight, Vy. I'm still listening, no matter where I stand, I'm listening."

The call ended, and the square fell into a brief silence before whispers about the water loss incident began to spread, but Vy stood there, motionless, her hand still clutching the microphone, her eyes looking far out into the night sea, feeling her entire world had just been turned upside down in a way she had never been mentally prepared for, in the middle of the very night she had hoped would be the most brilliant night in the history of "Sleepless Waves".