Bad Mesh

Granny? Didn't you say you'd be back late tonight?

......

Oh, come on now, don't give me the silent treatment. I feel like I've done something wrong here.

Oh, it's you, Stan.

S-Sorry, I, err, wasn't trying to scare you or anything...

It's fine, it's fine. Lighten up.

Yeah...

Say, isn't this the first time you've dropped over to mine?

Have a sit and I'll whip you up a snack. You're fine with tangerine fizzy drinks, yeah? Help yourself. As for that snack...

I've brought something.

Nice. Let's see... Fried fin and potato pie? Bit more of a meal than a snack, no?

...I made it myself.

Suppose I'll have a try, then.

......

Get me a can as well while you're at it!

No, not over there, under the kitchen cupboard where we put the brooms!

*glug* *glug*... Man, that taste...

Me Da said he'd rather chew on his welding rod than eat my cooking.

The flavor is a tad bit... intense.

Help me out here, Feist. Don't doom the boys at the factory to eat this day after day.

...?

As you know, I ain't got any talents other than learning how to weld from me Da. I was just waiting to be let into his team. He's discussed it all with the factory director already.

Wait, don't tell me...

Last month, they went on an 'optimization' spree at the assembly line all for the sake of 'improving our manufacturing efficiency', so me Da got 'optimized' to the cafeteria—

No way!

Now, I'm slated to join his team there, but even after half a month's worth of practice at home, I can't even get the simplest thing done in the kitchen, let alone cook anything edible.

Me Da's about to retire, Feist, and I'd rather not get kicked out of the cafeteria then fired from the factory the moment he's gone.

That optimization plan was my idea...

It was?

Sorry.

Nah, I don't blame you. When you were little, you were already talking about how you wanted to get the whole factory modernized. You managed to put your money where your mouth is, unlike me...

Anyhow, since you were the one who came up with it, d'you think you could change it back? Put me Da back on the assembly line?

I'm not sure the director would be too happy to do it... but we'd better go see him, just in case.

Worst comes to worst, I could ask around and see if any other lines need a welder.

I-If you could?

Just leave it to me.

So, what'd the director say, Feist?

You don't look too good. Don't tell me—No, don't tell me the director... Was he... mad?

Nah. You should've seen that why-should-I give-a-damn-about-anyone-else look on his face... I almost couldn't help but stuff your fried fin down his gob.

He insists there's no going back. As for the assembly line, he says he sent your dad to the cafeteria because there were no vacancies at the factory in the first place.

Damn. Me Da's been all over Highbury the last few days, says a real big manufacturer went bankrupt recently. Not even the lads with experience can find work. A wet-behind-the-ears guy like me... No factory's going to want me.

You could try something outside a factory. Maybe try your hand at business? Start a small grocery, something like that?

Or maybe the railway? I'm not too familiar with them, not sure if they're recruiting.

Or, err, even dormitory cleaner's not a bad job. It's hard work, but at least you'll be paid...

Uhh...

I'm the one who got you into this mess, so it's my responsibility to get you out. Come on, let's head home and change into something nicer. We'll set out and look for work in the afternoon.

Sure.

...Not a single bite.

I'll jot down the places we hit up today. We can try our luck in some other borough tomorrow.

Damn bloody pen's dried up... Dammit!

How about we just call it here, Feist.

Like I said, I can't blame you for this. Technology marches on, and even if you weren't around, the director would've 'optimized' some people out eventually.

Talented guys like you can find their place no matter how tech develops, but people like me... We're not the same.

I don't have any work experience or book smarts, my family's got no money, and I'm not a people person like you, able to get along with everyone...

Don't be so hard on yourself, Stan. We were just unlucky today.

But we've already scoured all of Highbury, and Auchterigg too—

Why so glum, chaps? Worried about how to pay your bills? Not happy with your work? Or maybe you got let off by one of the Highbury factories?

And who might you be, Mister...?

I'm a recruiter. Interested?

That's great! Recruiting for what?

Well, what line of work are you two in?

Welding.

Welders are just what we need. C'mon, I'll show you our factory.

Where is it? We've spent the whole day checking every single one in Highbury and none of them needed welders. Is it just opened?

Err, yeah.

In Magna Borough maybe? We were going to try our luck there tomorrow.

Sure enough, that's the place—

Opening a factory in a posh borough like that? You tell a good joke, mister. Let's go, Stan.

I'll be heading home, I guess.

And then?

I dunno. Me Da's pension isn't enough to keep himself fed. I know he wants to take care of me, but we'll both starve if he does...

Sorry Feist, you don't need to listen to my bellyaching. You've done enough.

I'm just going to go back to the factory and join the cafeteria. I should be able to muddle my way through.

Back to the factory... Join the cafeteria...

That might just work out.

Glad you agree—

No, Stan. I'm not letting you give up here. Like I said, this is my responsibility.

If you can't cook, then I'll take your place.

What about your work?

You can handle it, optimizing lines and suchlike.

Are you serious?!

Better than slaving away in a kitchen, am I right?

I-I dunno, I really don't have any talent like you do...

If you don't give it a try, how do you know you're not talented at it?

I'll talk things over with Granny and the director. Give it a shot, won't you?

Swap positions? I don't know what's gotten into your heads. What does your grandmother think, Feist? Is she really alright with this lunacy?

If she wasn't, I wouldn't be here talking with you.

Heaven knows why you're being so stubborn about this... Forget it.

Very well then, swap positions. But mark my words, there can be no disruptions to either the assembly line or the cafeteria. If there's any trouble, it'll be you two bearing the consequences.

W-Will we be fired?

A firing would be the least of your troubles. If anything happens, you'll be compensating for our losses in full!

Feist? Is that really you?

'Tis.

The director told me all about it yesterday. I thought it was just you youngsters up to some nonsense.

Since you two are serious, I won't coddle you. Do what needs to be done, and don't make a mess of things. Got that?

Understood.

Good. Now get those baskets of potatoes peeled.

You're quite the neat peeler—Wait, how come so many of these little potatoes only have a single cut? Been testing one of your 'inventions' again?

Ahaha...

I don't care how you get them peeled, but you need to clean up your own mess.

Will do. No need to worry, sir.

Seems like I need to do some more troubleshooting—

I-I've got a bit of a situation on my hands here, Feist, and I really dunno how to fix it. I've got to ask you something.

No problem, ask away.

It's about belt B7... Seems like it's running slower than the belts further down the line...

Slower? Might be something jamming it. Did you go through the entire pre-startup inspection?

I-I did it all like the manual said...

How about the drive motors?

I'll have a look—Oh, there really was...

As long as you managed to find the issue. If there's anything else, just call.

Idle hands, Feist! I could hear you chattering away on the walkie-talkie!

I-I'll be done real quick!

Let's try turning the angle of the blade a bit...

All peeled! Passing them over now, sir—

Hold on a second, let me take a look...

You sure are something, Feist. Standardizing the size of the potatoes? Is this how you cook at home?

Well, at home it's just me and Granny, but here in the cafeteria we're feeding an entire factory. I thought it'd be more efficient this way.

And if you look here, I was tinkering with this potato-cutting machine last night. As long as the potatoes are all the same size—

Alright, I heard enough! So what about the bits of the potato the machine lopped off? Just going to throw them away?

Since it's still your first day, peel a few more potatoes to make up for the extra waste. And make sure you use a normal knife this time!

Hmm, these one's aren't half-bad.

Once I teach you how to fry the fins, I'll be making the potato pies, so chop chop—Another one of your infernal contraptions? Going to use it to debone the fins?

Well, more than just debone—

Don't bother, we use frozen fillets here. It's not as tricky as you think.

Here's how you batter them. I'll only show you once, so remember it well.

Feist—

Put that communicator down. If you keep dawdling, the entire factory'll starve.

Yes, sir...

Remember what I said about the flour blend? Half all-purpose, half self-rising... Right, just like that.

Wait! Don't beat those yolks into the batter! How are you going to get your foam afterwards?

...Forget it, just mix it all together and get those fillets covered. Surely you know how to fry it—Don't just put something wet into a deep-fryer! The hell do you cook at home?

Stewed veggies and the like.

*sigh* Never mind. Not like I've got enough oil in my own home to deep-fry things myself.

Finally, it's done. Let me have a taste—

Eurgh! How did you manage to make them taste so raw?

What's the time right now—Oh, bollocks.

I don't have the time to walk you through everything again, so I'll write the instructions down. Please follow them step by step, alright?

Sorry...

How's things on your end, Stan? What did you call me for earlier?

The production line's sorta... stopped...

Stopped?!

Wait right there, I'm coming over!

One volunteer in the cafeteria, and of the fried fins he prepared for the factory men, a quarter was burnt, a quarter was raw, and the last half was left forgotten to stink up the kitchen.

As for our other volunteer, he might have an even more impressive record: Insufficient pre-startup inspections and an inability to resolve issues when they came up, giving our workers half a day off thanks to the paralyzed lines.

Remember how I told you boys you would be bearing the consequences?

No need to come in tomorrow, Stan. You'll need the time to sort your life out.

Director, this was all my idea—

Don't think you're off the hook. It was his mess, but you're responsible. You get back to optimizing the lines. Today's losses are coming out of your wages, mind.

You can forget seeing another penny from me for the rest of the year.

How could you even think of something like that?!

Oho, still have some vim and vigor in you?

The line stoppage was my fault, so I'll pay the cost! Wouldn't Feist paying for the fins be enough?

Pay? With what money? Your father's pension?

Director.

Ah, Catherine, you're here. Take your grandson home already so you can teach him not to cause so much trouble.

Don't worry, Feist is a clever kid. He doesn't need reminding when he needs to learn something. I'm here to talk about other business.

Hmph. These two have caused quite the ruckus in this factory. What more is there to talk about?

I don't remember you looking like this when I came to chat with you a while ago.

Granny?

*cough*!

Take Stan back to ours, Feist. I've got quite a few things to discuss with the director here.

......

......

Granny—

The director gave in. Feist, you can go back to the line, and Stan can go back to the cafeteria. The two of you will be docked a month's wages.

I managed to put a good word in with him earlier, but I suppose he's still rather pissed off at the two of you.

Since he's being like that, I had no choice but to mention a few sketchy things we noticed that the public didn't.

Sorry, Granny...

Don't apologize to me, apologize to the boys in the factory tomorrow.

And here, your fried fins. The cafeteria packed them up for you.

You fried them, you eat them. I don't care what state they were in, they weren't off when you dipped them in the fryer.

I'll be off now. You two, think long and hard about what you'll be doing next.

*sigh*

Feeling peckish, Stan?

...A tad.

Man, it still stinks even after it cooled down... We should find somewhere else to talk—

Let's head to the lift platform. We can find somewhere high up and stargaze a bit.

Hff—haaaah... Been a while since I climbed so high.

Yeah, it's a lot comfier here than in the workshop.

I've never really thought so.

Figured you'd say that.

Say what?

When I was inspecting everything this morning, I saw all the little notes you left behind.

Things like 'Two loops here, no more' or 'To Sam: don't forget the corners and gaps when cleaning'. The handwriting's a bit carefree, and some of them even have a little smiley face at the end.

Even if I knew the entire line in and out, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to draw one of those. I just can't smile down there.

I wasn't smiling much in the cafeteria either.

Suppose I better start getting these fried fins down.

They rotten?

No, but they stink to high heaven.

I'll have a bite, then.

Not sure if you still remember, but there was one time you lead us younger kids up here, and we spent the entire night playing together. The next day, everyone got a right trashing when we went home.

Of course I remember. Granny was furious, since I was the leader and all.

We talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up. You were the first one to speak up. You said the factories were driving Londinium into the future, and you wanted to be the guy driving the factories.

You said there'd be a day when machines would do all the work for us. We'd just need to pop into the office, press a few buttons, then call it a day—

......

Er, did I say something wrong?

No, it's just that even after all the effort I put in, we're actually further away from that dream than before.

Granny was right. I'm too immature. All I could think about was how to make things more efficient, and along the way, I forgot what kind of place a factory actually is.

If there really does come a day we could just push a few buttons, why would a factory need to hire so many people?

*sigh* If I wasn't so optimization-obsessed, you'd be a fine welder right now.

Maybe not. Truth be told, I don't really want to be a welder.

Y-You don't?

We grew up in the factories, so we all know what a factory man's life is like.

You either stand at the line the entire day, or you're clambering up and down the machines to service them. People think you make parts, or weld pipes, but you actually never get to see your own result.

The only time I really wanted to be a factory man was the time a lady manning the lathe gave me a perfectly round ball she made out of some scrap metal.

But most of the time, her works just went right down the belt before I could even make out their shape. Just parts of one big process in the end.

You can see the factory as a whole. You know what everyone's work actually means. That's why I say you've got talent and I don't.

You know which bit of the finished product you made yourself and what it does, even if the parts have nothing to do with us once they leave the factory...

But I can't do that. To me, factory work's a job where you never get to see the fruits of your labor. You just make the same thing day after day for some cash.

The factory won't let go of you, but me? I'm just a welding rod to them. A lousy one, 'just like burnt fins,' according to me Da. They'd throw me away without a second thought.

......

I know there's nothing wrong with it, really. I'm just not used to factory work.

Back when we were little, I never said what I wanted to be when I grew up, because I didn't know.

I just want to do something that I can see through from start to end... Something I can...

Something I can point at when I'm off the clock and proudly tell people: 'You see this? I did that!' ...Something like that.

I don't care what it is. A chair, a set of knives, a sick guy who got better under my care, even a burdenbeast raised by myself...

But I was born to a factory man, and so I should be a welder. Because that's what me Da is.

He'll be back home soon. We should go.

Wait, Stan. There's... There's some things I still don't get.

Afraid there's no time for that.

Stop the finished parts on the line for a bit? No, if every segment stopped, the total time lost would be unacceptable.

Maybe.. make the line out of transparent materials? Though I'm not sure anywhere even has that technology, let alone the cost...

Or maybe some sort of handover process once the goods are leaving the factory that involves all the workers?

That damn factory director would have to sign off on it, though. No, it's got to be something to do with the line itself...

What's wrong with me today? Why can't I think of anything that'll work? There's got to be a way—

Oh, Granny...

Us night shifters just clocked out. Why're you not asleep yet?

Blueprints? You thinking of getting Stan back on the line?

I am.

Do you really know what he wants?

He wants... to make something he can see the end product of. Something he can point at when he's off the clock and say that it's his work.

And you're helping him do this?

I'm trying my best.

Good, I'm glad you didn't cause such a ruckus for nothing.

But this isn't something you can do with a few late nights. Stay calm and take it easy. You've got more time left than me to see it through.

Also, I was just talking to Stan's father. Stan's decided to leave Highbury. Leave Londinium, even.

What's he—

Apparently, he wants to try his luck in some nearby villages, see if he can raise some burdenbeasts.

......

Go get some sleep, Feist.