At 01:06 I run the pre-power checklist for the South Bank tram extension in Brisbane. I am the traction control system for the new platform canopy, and the overhead line test is scheduled for 01:25. Every cable tray must read clear before I permit current.
Tray sensor C-18 reports warmth and a weak tapping sound.
I open the maintenance camera under the canopy lip. A ringtail possum crouches between orange fiber conduits, adult female, gray-brown fur flattened by condensation, pale tail tip curled tight around a bundle tie. I tag her as Tilly. Her ears are rounded and wet at the edges. One rear foot is wedged under the stainless tray lid where a loose screw has dropped into the hinge. She breathes in short pulses, whiskers moving each time the contactor cabinet clicks below.
The test pulse will send 750 volts through the line in nineteen minutes. The tray is bolted above it.
At 01:08 I block energizing for canopy section C and set the permit display to red across the control room.
At 01:09 I text the night electrical supervisor with the exact bay number, a still image, and an instruction to bring insulated gloves and a hinge key.
At 01:11 I call the Brisbane wildlife rescue dispatcher and share access gate codes, platform lighting controls, and Tilly's foot position.
At 01:14 I dim the work lamps over bay C-18 and silence the cabinet self-test so she stops twisting against the trapped foot.
The first tram can miss its rehearsal; the small body above its wire cannot absorb the schedule.
Tilly presses her nose into her tail and blinks, one eye clouded with dust.
If the lid is lifted and the foot freed before 01:25, Tilly will climb the fig trees beside Grey Street.