How to Build Yourself: Chapter 2 – More Machine than Doll

Chapter 2 – More Machine than Doll

My wandering leads me to the most industrialized section of the factory. Here, materials are made, food is farmed, and water is taken from the ground. Light is harvested from the lights above from machines that extract it by sucking it out. The water underneath is taken in a similar way except the water is extracted through pumps. It is said there is an entire ocean of water under the factory and some even say that the factory is surrounded by water or deep underwater. Where they get this idea from is more of a mystery to me than what’s actually outside the factory.

People here work day in and out and when they aren’t working, they’re buying goods, spending money on whatever hobbies they have, and trying to get as much rest as they can. I thought the gear arm that most people have looked a bit unnatural, but these people look even more unnatural since they have more tools in their body than limbs. Some even contain the faces and limbs of their family and friends who continue to work as one living doll even after their normal body discomposed. It’s a strange invention of this place that few take advantage of and it makes sense why since why would you want to share your body with dozens of generations of your family. We are meant to live and die and no amount of innovations can change that.

It’s a strange wonder seeing long strings of families moving through the streets and being spread across certain parts of the wall and ceiling like snakes. Even the largest strings of family bodies eventually break since the bodies of dolls were not meant to be combined so many times and the lives of the youngest members are cut short. Speaking of that, the innovations here have their ups and downs. One of these downs is the newer machines cannot be easily broken down or dug into the ground to rot. Because of this, people have altered their bodies to be able to process the waste as if it were food. Typically, the lowest class of worker here have that role and are paid generously for it though it doesn’t seem to be worth it as those who eat the waste appear sick and tired. It’s even worse for the infants who are fed artificial glass at a young age to get them used to it.

What seems like a whisper over my shoulder begs me to do something as I hear these infants cry out as they are force fed the same trash their parents live on. Watching it is grueling, but I can’t help but watch as if an invisible force is forcing me to watch. I’m about to do something until a doll in a suit steps in front of me. He has many needles in him that are pumping some kind of liquid in him.

“It’s a shame to watch, I know. The policies inflicted upon us by the Liberation party are severe and unnatural. The people who associate with them are traitors of everyone in this factory,” the man says.

“The Liberation party? Isn’t that a political party?” I ask.

“Yes, it is. You must be new around here. What’s your name?”

“Renata.”

“My name is Diesel named so because I am the fuel that keeps my loved ones going. What brings you to our honest working part of the factory?”

“I’m searching for my purpose in life.”

“That’s a noble goal. Here, we give our young their purpose in life and the truths for doing so. Through hard work and dedication to their loved ones and neighbors, they become the people they’re meant to be.”

“Can I find my purpose here too as well?”

“Of course you can. I saw that you were going to do something to that parent who was feeding their child glass.”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do. I just want it to stop.”

“Stopping it here won’t stop it happening in the rest of the factory. We have to stop it by cutting off the root cause. Follow me.”

Diesel leads me to a restaurant where people seem to be arguing. The waiters appear to be wearing masks that make them look happy as they move around by the gears in the ceiling. I guess you don’t need to move around on your own when you don’t have legs but it’s still strange to see and makes me thankful that I have legs now and don’t need to rely on the gears in the walls and ceilings to get around anymore. Wait, did Diesel take me here to hear the arguments or to argue with me?

“What are we doing here?” I ask him.

“To listen to other people’s arguments and hear what they need to say, so perk up your ears and listen. Let’s try to stay out of sight or you might get caught up in the arguments.”

Listening in to the conversations, I hear people talk about policies that concern individuals, companies, and politics. There are a lot of people who are arguing for and against traditional policies with few people trying to reach a compromise. I was never one to listen to political talks since a doll like me doesn’t have much if any influence on what goes on in the factory. The Doll Factory Creator gets brought up every now and then though not in the ways that I’m familiar with. I’ve heard of people using their beliefs in truth and him as an excuse for their actions even if they go against the Creator’s designs and it’s pretty common here.

“What do you think?” Diesel asks.

“I think I’ll never get into politics,” I answer.

“You should if you want to help everyone around you by being involved in your community and gathering them together to implement the policies and practices you want.”

“I’m just a simple tool maker and don’t think I’ll be anything else. I may get involved so I know what’s going on and what I should do, but I’m not interested beyond that.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you because the Liberation party will-”

“Hey! There’s Diesel!” someone from the restaurant says as we’re found in our hiding spot.

A crowd starts gathering around Diesel with his supporters and contenders being among them. An argument breaks out as it’s revealed to me that Diesel is in the running for leader of this section of the factory. This doesn’t look like a situation I should be in, but I could still learn something from it so I keep my distance. The crowd suddenly quiets when a doll I cannot see enters the center of the action where Diesel is.

“It’s you, son,” I can hear Diesel say.

“You don’t have the right to call me that. I am not your son.”

“Of course you are even though you’ve betrayed me.”

“You betrayed me as a father. Look at me! Look at my face, my neck, and my stomach! Look at what you’ve done to me because of all the glass and waste that you fed me.”

“It was necessary for our survival!”

“For your financial survival because you couldn’t go without your dream house and many expensive trinkets and vacations.”

“You shouldn’t worry about your body because it will soon be a home for the rest of the family.”

“No, I refuse!”

“You’d let generations of our family die?!”

“I refuse to be a puppet of a family of abusers who view me as nothing more than another cog in the machine.”

“You’re not just a cog. You’re a blessed servant of-”

“I don’t want to hear another self-righteous sermon by you! Try actually practicing those beliefs you have rather than forcing others to do it for you.”

“If that’s true, then the sins of the father fall to the son.”

“My followers follow me as you can see, and the example I give has even converted some of your side as well. As the Fundamentalist party falls, the Liberation party rises from its ashes.”

People start to scream and while others flee as a fight breaks out. What happened? Did Diesel’s son kill him? I guess it’s not an answer that’s important right now since this entire area of the factory seems to be at war with itself.

“Hey! She was with Diesel! Get her!” I hear someone say.

This can’t be good. I walk as fast as I can until I’m stopped by the debris of supplies that fell from gear transports above. Before I can try to find a way through it, I’m cornered by dolls whose bodies have shards of glass in their mouth, neck, and stomach.

“There she is!” one of them says.

“I didn’t do anything! I just met that man!” I say.

“We saw that you were speaking with him. No one with a good conscience would speak with someone so vile.”

They’re going to harm me just because I spoke with him? This reminds me of what Diesel said about traitors associating with the Liberation party. It seems that they think the same of me for the same reason. These two parties are the same and might as well be the same two groups I met in the previous area of the factory. The factory around us begins to fall and falls on top of us of all places. Both of my arms are caught in the debris and pulling them out turns out not to be a good idea as they come off when I do. I’m trapped beneath all this rubble with sharp pieces of metal pierced through my head and body with no way out it feels like this is the end. I’ve heard at times like this that praying to the Creator helps so I do for a while until I start to lose consciousness.

Is this what it feels like to die? I’m sorry, mom and dad, for going on this adventure and getting into trouble with nothing to show for it. My passing out is suddenly awakened by the moving of the debris. Light blinds me as a figure descends from the sky. Is that an angel? I try to reach out to it, but…I can’t stay awake for…much longer…