The scent of oil, dust, and metal chips covered everything here. Bright light glared from the overhead windows. Fluorescent lighting eliminated every shadow. The screeching of the lathes from the center of the building never stopped as they drowned out the pinging and scratching of the hydraulic presses. One after another, lined up against the walls, the presses dug metal out of part in pristine square cuts. Li''s machine had a sticker of fat orange cat sleeping in a tray at the top right corner. She''d placed it there herself.


    A tap on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts Li took her protection, the same worn rubber pieces she’d been using for a month, out of her ear canals. The screeches, pings, bangs, and whirrs of the busy workshop assaulted her. She looked to the side, then to the other to see her new supervisor, a strangely comely woman with long white hair that stayed unnaturally clean despite the everpresent shop dust.


    “Listen carefully, because I’m not going to explain this twice.”


    Li Xiao looked at this woman, this obvious foreigner who had white hair and red eyes in this country. No possible way she was Han! If she wasn’t a foreigner, she was worse, an aberration. How had she managed to become a supervisor? Who had she sucked? Azoria tapped at clipboard she held.


    “Your production values are subpar. You broach eight units an hour. We’re looking for twelve an hour to meet the production standard. How many bathroom breaks are you taking? Do you smoke? Are you going to lunch early? Is someone clocking out for you?”


    The hydraulic press hummed. Li released the pressure to allow the broach to straighten. A worn brush spread a liberal application of oil up and down the tool. Thumb toggled the button to keep the tube from returning to the resting point before pressing firmly to send the broach deeper for more cuts.


    “I’m doing exactly as I was taught. The previous supervisors said that eight an hour was sufficient.”


    “It’s not sufficient!” Azoria’s voice was like a hammer striking the metal skeleton of the press, “Let’s play a game together. I want you to have broached thirteen units an hour by the time you clock out or you’re dismissed.”


    “But each broach requires three passes and each unit gets broached in two places. That’s not even possible.”


    Azoria tossed the clipboard to the side and shoved Li. The woman staggered. Azoria pressed down on the button and let the broach slide through. She caught the toothy metal shaft before it fell into the bucket, spun the part, replaced the fixture, then seated the broach into position. A quick swipe of oil and the broach slid through without stopping, without adjustments, and removing far more metal than Li thought safely possible. Azoria caught the broach.


    Oil and hydraulic fluid dripped from her palm. Her thumb slid along the teeth for a hasty cleaning as she slid the tool back in place before the press could return. As the press pushed down without a break, the toothed hardened steel piece kept straight. Azoria twirled a file in her other hand.


    “You can file the cuts with your free hand while the metal is being removed if you’re focused on your work and not your poor investments.”


    A fist squelched dirt and oil from the sides. So, she knew about that somehow? And she considered it to be her fault that she lost all the payments for her home!?


    BANG!


    The part slammed on the metal trays and it remained clenched between white ivory knuckles and decoratively long fingernails now smeared with oil.


    “Get twelve an hour. If I can get sixteen, you can certainly get twelve! No excuses. Get it our find other employment. We have no need in this facility for those who refuse to pull their own weight!”


    Li trembled, completely overtaken by the part slamming by her unprotected ear and Azoria’s demonstration of prowess on the broach. All she had to do was follow that example and keep it going. It shouldn’t be unmanageable. The ear plugs pushed back in the canals as her new supervisor walked away.


    Smack! Set a part down. Ignore the freshly cut metal digging into her flesh. Her hands had to be bare, as she needed to feel the broach properly. Not as much oil, not as much cleaning, keep the machine running so it doesn’t waste time getting to the part but not so close that it’ll crush her thumb while she’s seating the broach.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! The broach bent! She could see it. She had to release the pressure. What was she not doing that her supervisor had done? What was the trick to this? Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Again!? If she wasn’t careful, she could gouge the cut and ruin the part.


    Come to think of it.


    Li tested Azoria’s part. It was perfect. The cut from top to bottom held tolerances in the center! How had she done this? Her work looked so fast and careless. Li began to sweat. If she was fired, how would they pay rent? They would be on the street. The young woman wiped a streak of oily brown and green fluids across her forehead. Then she wiped her hands with a dirty rag.


    The fixture inside the part was removed and replaced for the fixture of the second pass. Li tried to speed up while filing the piece Azoria had completed with her ‘free’ hand. This meant no second application of oil. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Thumb released the button and she hurriedly used the brush to slide oil up the broach as it reset with a little wobble. How long would she have to keep this up? There were no clocks in the shop, only bells. They kept working until their shift bell rang. That was the rule.


    Her broaching tool crusted with metal chips in each of the teeth. This brass didn’t forgive being cut. How did that woman manage to have her cut come through so clean with all the chips just dropping in the bucket? It couldn’t have just been luck. She hadn’t released the pressure on the broach once. Perhaps it was a micro-release, but Li would have heard the machine stop!


    The gauge indicated that her part, once finished, was good. But this pace was nowhere near fast enough to keep her job. Li looked to the left, then to the right. Were the others really outpacing her that much? They had different parts. Talking to them would only make her look worse. So how could she even tell? This Azoria loomed in her mind like a devil as she seated the piece in her finished bin.


    Faster. Slam! Li jumped with a start. Feng Bojing slid a pallet jack under her box, “We need you to pick up the pace. The next operation is waiting on you and we need to finish this order by Saturday.”


    Faster. Set the broach. Swipe the oil. Seat. Press the button. Slight relief. File the most recently finished piece. Go. Catch the broach. Change the fixture. Clean the broach. Set the broach. She needed to change her habit. Perhaps this faster rate was achievable? File the broach. Oil. Press button. Hold. Catch. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Slight release. Change fixture. Check part. Repeat.


    Go faster! It wasn’t enough! New part! Fixture! Broach! Oil! Button! File! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Slight release. Why couldn’t she get it done on a single straight cut like her supervisor!? Was she defective, a defective worker? Really? At this rate she’d get just short of her required pieces. Perhaps that would be enough? But that inability to go straight through without a single release like the supervisor bothered her. Every ping of the broach when it began to struggle caused her cheeks to redden. She wasn’t insufficient! Second pass! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Release pressure. Apply oil!


    No! This kept going. Hour after hour. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t even get lucky and have that perfect pass. Her cheeks turned bright red. If she calculated in her head there was a huge improvement in her time. The parts she tested were okay. But she was still a little behind.


    Faster! Part! Fixture! Placement check! Broach! Oil! Button! File! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!


    No, she would ignore it. It didn’t matter if she gouged a bit on the first pass! Ping! Ping! Ping! SNAP!


    The bright lights and heavy sounds of the workshop went dark.


    Then her eyes opened. Blood shot from between her thin pale lips. Li raised her hands to her neck. The top end of the broach dug into her palms. The hydraulic metal tube raised due to a neglected button. The jagged, sharp, bottom half of the broach wedged into a misshapen fixture. It mocked her.


    Blood ran down her neck to soak her overalls as she gasped. Hands clasped the broach piece in her neck. Blood squirted down the oily metal and through her palms. The scent of metal chips and oil overwhelmed her. The screeching of lathes drowned her gurgling as one of her earplugs fell into the dirty crimson pool at her feet.


    Li Xiao collapsed. Blood-soaked overalls. Feet kicking. Gasping for air with swelling tongue pushing from between teeth.


    Lathes screamed at such high pitch her eardrums felt as if they would burst. Fists pounding the dust and loose metal chips over the floor as Azoria leaned over her with a compassionate smile. The supervisor gently patted her head as the world became blurry.


    And now, after going through the portal. After hearing Azoria’s long-winded explanation that she found more confusing than helpful, Li Xiao found three things. A cavern. A table. And a broach.


    A single bulb swung from a wire to provide flickering lighting. Lathes could be heard screeching behind the walls.


    Fingers trembled. Li froze as she breathed heavily. She picked the broach from the table and clutched it to her chest as she clenched her teeth. It had that familiar scent of metal dust mixed with oil and hydraulic fluid. She resisted puking on it. As she held the broach, she glanced around. This creepy cavern had one exit. A tall and narrow cave entrance with craggy rocks beckoned her into its darkness.


    Her two children: abandoned by their careless mother. Her husband: left behind. Her job: dismissed. Even the friends she made here who shared the same country in the old life, who vowed to oppose Azoria together with her: gone. Li Xiao felt the hydraulic press of loneliness squeeze the blood out of her crushed heart.


    She cried.


    As she clutched the broaching tool, a narrow path of atonement beckoned her to traverse its damp dripping darkness.