An hour later, the Sea Serenity was dead in the water. Not from waves or wind, but from a blinking red light on the SRG-1150DN’s display. Min-jun was hunched over, sweating, wires spilling from the console like tangled seaweed.
“It’s not locking onto satellites,” he muttered.
“No,” Yeong-ho replied, tapping the binder. “I listened to the sea’s new language.”
Min-jun hesitated. He was a child of YouTube tutorials and guesswork. A 147-page PDF felt like a medieval scroll. But he opened the laminated binder——and began to read aloud.
“We have a fix,” Min-jun whispered.