[A middle-aged man in a blue work coat. He has a gentle face and a docile manner. He speaks softly, as if afraid.]
“There was barely any work at the workshop so, when the order came in, well, it was a relief.
According to the specs, the client wanted us to build a very sophisticated piece, so complex it would take at least six months to complete. In other words, six months of very profitable labor.
The specs didn’t clarify what kind of machine our piece would be a part of, and even though I was curious, I got so busy setting up production that I soon forgot. Besides, this kind of secrecy is not unheard of in our business. Industrial espionage, pending patents, all good reasons for the client not to share the final design with us.
But then, halfway into the project, we started lagging behind schedule and I had to look for extra hands in order to make the delivery date.
I called my friends at other shops and was surprised to find out they were also looking for temporary workers. I soon realized every workshop in town was slammed building parts for this “mystery machine,” as some of the guys called it.
I was tempted to ask my colleagues if they too found it unsettling that we were all building pieces for a machine we knew nothing about. But, why question a job that had brought us all months of employment and profit? No one likes a party pooper…
So I just paid my employees overtime and production eventually got back on schedule. Months later, we completed the piece right on time.
The same night we shipped it out, we threw a party to celebrate. Believe it or not, some employees even cried; that’s how attached we all had become to the piece.
A few weeks later, without warning, the authorities deployed a gigantic machine into the streets that, with one clean sweep, annihilated thousands of protesters.
No one would ever admit it, but deep down, most of us knew what kind of machine our parts would eventually help create.
Although, why deny it… Making them brought us such happiness.”
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Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016