Behind you, the workers shuffled, rubber soles shifting on rough concrete. You pressed your lips together. “What am I supposed to be helping with?” you asked, glancing behind you.
“Manpower,” a burly worker said, joining you at the front. “We need more people.”
You eyed the big shelves of metal, parts moving automatically, pushing crates around, carrying them where they needed to be. “In a place where everything runs by itself?”
Something rumbled in the distance. Wheels, maybe, or gears. A loud whistle from the same direction. The workers jumped, and three sprinted there with nervous, even fearful expressions. Their steps echoed on the cement floor long after they vanished from view.