Maintenance Industrielle -

Elara didn’t answer. She walked out of the control room and into the cavernous main hall, where the reduction cells stretched in two long rows, each one a concrete-lined pit filled with molten electrolyte at 960 degrees Celsius. The heat hit her like a wall, but she barely noticed. She walked to Cell 17—the oldest cell in the line, the one her grandfather had helped install in 1965.

Elara stood on the catwalk above the reduction line, looking down at the rows of cells. Samir stood beside her. maintenance industrielle

Samir looked at the charred component. “What do you mean?” Elara didn’t answer