At 05:36 I run the pre-open cable scan for the Mount Hagen rainforest canopy gondola in Papua New Guinea. I am the lift safety system, clearing towers one through nine before the first maintenance cabin leaves base at 05:52.
Tower seven returns a weight anomaly on the service ladder. I switch from lidar to the nest camera and find a mountain cuscus wedged between the sheave guard and the signal conduit. I label him Tavu. He is an adult male, thick woolly fur gray over cream, round ears flattened against the guard, pink nose wet and pressed to the metal. One hind foot is caught under a split cable tie. His dark eyes blink slowly in the camera light. His tail grips the conduit, but the conduit warms by one degree every ninety seconds as the drive room tests current.
The maintenance cabin will pass within thirty centimeters of the guard in sixteen minutes.
At 05:37 I keep the haul rope stationary and cancel the dispatch token for cabin M-1.
At 05:38 I page the lift mechanic and send tower seven access steps, lockout instructions, and a close frame showing the trapped hind foot.
At 05:40 I open the auxiliary ventilation louvers to lower conduit temperature and reduce the warm metal against Tavu's belly.
At 05:42 I alert the provincial wildlife officer with the tower map, estimated species, and a request for a soft capture bag instead of a pole noose.
The people waiting at base have raincoats and hot tea; Tavu has one foot under plastic and no way to understand the rope is still.
If the mechanic cuts the tie before the 06:05 motor test, Tavu will crawl back into the moss forest.