The Industrialist

Kranian Industries, Northern Sector, Axe Central City.

The next day.

***

The types of equipment were designed to be easily arranged and rearranged depending on the project's process flow. The large equipment had wheels, despite the heavy-looking metallic bodies, however, they were easy to move.

'Just like the barricades we used in the Peak Line as we trapped the Obsidian Scorpion with the gang,' He remembered.

The equipment were lined up, conveyor belts seemed to fall to place in a manner of efficient transport. The operators, because of tenure and experience in previous projects, gave them an overviewed knowledge of how the machines work compatible to the current production order.

"Don't worry, boss," Brigz said as they looked upon the motivated operators powering up their assigned equipment. "They know what to do. The schematic board connections and IC installation will be in the SchematicBoard Assembler. This is the first phase." Brigz ushered Lance to the first entry of raw materials.

The SchematicBoard Assembler had a five-meter metallic cylinder with a two-meter diameter opening. On the side of the metallic cylinders, mounted digital pads and control panels accommodated the modifications. The operator deftly punched the digital buttons, modifying the settings. The screen blew up indistinctive figures and numbers that Lance had little or no idea.

Somewhat, the operators had basic engineering courses as they quickly managed the machinery modifications. Sometimes, the operator typed fast without even looking at the digital keypads.

Each of them was adept with their assigned equipment. They had been operating these complicated machineries for years, Lance assessed.

Lance almost forgot that they were Commoners who never had proper education, not even had the introductory courses for Aspiring Scientists offered in SARS. They were just trained by other tenured Commoner operators during their first deployment and had gained usable machinery expertise through them and experience.

"In the second phase, the RoFlo tentacles installation will take place." Brigz continued. "This is a secondary Assembler that has minute robotic arms inside for the installation of fine wires and microboards, as small as one-by-one inch boards, could be wired using the MicroArm Assembler."

The second phase equipment was way different than the SchematicBoard Assembler. The MicroArm Assembler comprised a series of twenty fabrication tables he had in his apartment. It held small robotic arms, about 12 inches long each, and inch-thick, like millipede legs moving instantaneously and independently installed above the working metallic table.

This equipment held the most wiring connections from different power supplies and regulators. Electric current should be regulated to remove power surges, preventing the micro motherboards from being toasted.

"Our last phase will be the final assembly. The enclosures of the round casings with the installed ICs and tentacles, and then packaging." Brigz said as he accompanied Lance to the expanse of all the phases of the lined-up equipment.

The final assembly was the largest among them. It held sinuous conveyor belts running turns, circling, and passing through assembly robotic arms. The operator tested the conveyor belt's movement and modified its speed while calibrating the movement of assembly robotic arms, moving in and out of the conveyor belt's space.

The whole setup consumed half of the production floor covering one thousand square meters. And the other half was an empty space that held pallets of raw materials.

"Another pallet transport came in just this morning," Brigz reported, pointing to another plastic-sheathed tonnage of piled boxes sitting idly at the wall. That's another inventory piling up next to the recently inspected raw materials.

Lance released a frustrating sigh. He imagined Flanegan laughing his heart out upon seeing them in his computer connecting the CCTV due to their delays.

'You ass, Flanegan! You should be the one down here setting up.' He scoffed.

"That's two pallets, boss. One pallet of raw material is equivalent to one-day production. It means…" Brigz explained.

"It means we are a day or two behind," Lance interjected.

"Yes, boss. Right. We are doing the best we can. The timing is bullshit. Flanegan planned this." Brigz sneered.

***

As previously discussed, three in the afternoon onwards was their operator's training. They processed half the pallet after they finished the setup.

"Boss, we can still finish the whole load if we will move the training to another day," Brigz said.

It would entail only a one-day delay instead of two days. 'Over a million units delayed. The management is gonna cook me after this.' Lance thought.

"This is much more urgent; we proceed with the training." Lance retorted.

"The management will be on your ass, boss," Brigz said.

"Let me worry about them. I will handle Doc Zee, too, if anything goes monumentally wrong!" Lance responded.

They settled down in chairs, all fifteen of them. One operator pressed one of the digital breakers that isolated the equipment power line. All the humming machinery powered down, the lights and the ACU remained.

As the rumpus settled, and everyone on their respective chairs, Lance stood in front of them towering among the despondent-looking Commoners.

"You probably still doubting that what we are doing is a total waste of time," His audience held an awkward silence. Despite that, he continued, "We are not. If looking at the moment, we are wasting half a million worth of marketable products supposedly that we can produce until the end of the day. But I am looking beyond.

I am looking at the solution of twenty percent delays because of the operator's lack of technical know-how."

The murmurs grew and their sharp stares aimed at his direction.

"Ok, boss." One operator said, "You proved your point. What are we going to do next?"

Lance clicked on his wrist and a Holographic construct blew up in front of him for everyone to see.

"All right," Lance said, "This is a video of how I conduct the prototype. My prototype is close to what we are producing now. Well, I only have my fabrication table at home, so, it took me a day just to produce one prototype."

The holographic construct played a video recording of every step he took as he assembled the RoFlo prototype. Questions raised were almost unceasing. Lance answered them all, so elaborately. The questions came almost like a machine gun, firing towards him, eventually, he blocked them all. Their manner of questioning portrayed their eagerness to learn.

"I know this is more elaborate than the one cascaded to you from your Kranian supervisors. What they only tell you is the process of how to produce them without knowing the in-depth reason for it. And how these parts function in unison to make a functional RoFlo unit." Lance explained.

The questioning lasted for over an hour. It was mentally devastating but emotionally fulfilling.

"I will be sending work manuals via Cloud to each of you." Their wrist cloud drives blinked and everyone received a file from Lance.

"In the work manuals, you will find videos and intricate explanations of what I recently discussed. We can't absorb everything just by standing here for one day. Read the explanations until you master them. If you have questions, let's discuss on the next day."

Lance had never thought to muster such confidence speaking to middle-aged men. Most likely, his confidence rooted during the times he presented his business dealings to the Rebel Council.

Five days passed and the last day of the week came like lightning, and the team was doing the same routine, producing until three in the afternoon and training onwards until five. Lance had been present all week but only every three hours per day, as he promised. However, the inventory of raw materials piled up. The number of piles of raw materials was directly proportional to their delays.

One pallet load was equivalent to one production delay. Over the week the pallet load increased. Logically, his production delays also increased.

There were three pallets equivalent to three million units of undelivered merchandise. Saturday came and it was his last session of operator's training. Expectedly, there were only a few questions raised as they tackled almost all possible problems, sometimes simulating possible scenarios.

Lance tested them occasionally with questions about probable production predicaments. He did the questioning, too. Evidently, the operators had garnered in-depth knowledge, answering every question he threw at them.

"What is this!" A thundering voice loomed as the elevator behind them opened. It was Flanegan, still with his perfectly white and pressed lab coat, his wet hair still untouched, and wearing a face unsullied with stress. He stormed towards the group with echoing steps of boots against marble floors.

"You know what! The Executives will fry our asses! We are three days delay! That's three million, can you even grasp the impact?" His reprimand was directed to Lance. "Doctor Zee is going to kill us. You are a failure, Mister Berkley.

You are not fit to become a TOR. Your first time will shame your reputation."

The group grew silent. Flanegan's eyes bulged in utter anger. Lance held his nonchalance toward the storming supervisor. Responding or even matching the fuming Supervisor's rage was futile, or an immense waste of energy.

"You insolent Scientist! This is the result of no education. No regard for the consequences because you are nothing but a lowlifer. You are used to settling for less and cannot grasp the greater impact of failure! Your fiasco will get me fired."

Flanegan was an Electrical Tier 3 Scientist and accepted the privilege of supervising production lines, as all Electrical Tiers could, under the Management of an Electronic Tier or higher.

Lance only stood unscathed with the words seemed to be weapons of emotional destruction. He stood in front of his audience without any hint of disarray. His indifference boiled the raging Scientist further while the latter stood so close to Lance like he was going to punch the kid.

"You are testing my patience, you impudent shame!" He cursed, his volume never faltered.

Lance took a step closer, maintaining his indifference. The operators on their seats behind Flanegan had maintained silence too and remained seated. Hoping maybe to watch either one of them to be embarrassed in front of many.

"Why aren't you answering me, you pest!" Flanegan shouted this time. Despite his fiery rage, Lance took steps closer to him, making Flanegan stagger retreating steps.

"What are you doing, are you going to hurt me? You psycho!" Flanegan continued to retreat as Lance continued to press forward. The latter's eyes held a killing intent. Until Flanegan stumbled among the chairs, creating a chaotic mess.

There was faint laughter among the operators as they witnessed the embarrassing fall of their supervisor.

'I faced monsters. I quarreled with rebel leaders. I always face death. One egoistic maniac would not scare me.' Lance thought.

"Doctor Zee will know about this!" Flanegan, frustratingly, hauled himself up. His perfectly pressed lab coat emerging worn creases because of his fall. Nobody helped him stand.

Then afterward, he stormed out without receiving any word from Lance.