ANNOUNCER :.

Fade in exterior dusk. Jacko, forties, and Darren, late-teens walking along a grit & tarmac road towards Brickman's Engineering Works. They are about to start the night-shift after the Firm's Summer holiday.

In the distance we hear wagons being shunted in a goods-yard, and the continuing pounding of the drop-forge.

JACKO : She was a lovely piece, Darren. What a woman, out here she was.

DARREN : (indifferent) Oh aye ?

JACKO : Big as melons.

DARREN : Aye, an' twice as juicy, I shouldn't wonder.

JACKO : I was on me lilo at the time, thinking I should be getting back to our lass and the bairns, when all of a sudden this golden goddess emerges out of the water wearing a mask an' snorkel and not much else. Aw, it was joy to behold it was.

(A lathe screams from the factory).

DARREN : Sounds better than Scarborough.

JACKO : Are you kidding ? It was like paradise, man.

DARREN : So what about your lass ?

JACKO : No problem, she was the other end o' the beach minding the youngest.

DARREN : No, I meant, did she, you know, did she take her top off ?

JACKO : Matter of fact she did. I wasn't too happy at first, mind. Don't get me wrong, she's still got a canny figure, it's just, well, she was brought up very respectable, Salvation Army, like, an' well, lying on a beach full of foreigners half naked, just didn't seem right. Still, got to move with the times, haven't you?

DARREN : True.

JACKO : Young lad like you, you should put in a bit of over-time, get yourself to Greece, I tell you, there's so much spare tash-

DARREN : Jacko?

JACKO : What?

(Darren stops walking)

JACKO : (stopping) What's the matter?

DARREN : How many times d'you reckon you've walked up this sodden road?

JACKO : You what ?

DARREN : How many ?

JACKO : Thousands, I should think.

DARREN : Doesn't it bother you ?

JACKO : Bother uz ?

DARREN : I mean just look at the place.

JACKO : A job's a job, Darren.

DARREN : Talk about dark, satanic mills.

JACKO : Hey, come on - you always feel bad just after the holidays, especially on nights.

(Jacko walks on, realises Darren is still standing, stops & turns).

JACKO : (slightly off) Hey - are you coming, or what?

DARREN : Aye, I suppose. (he continues walking) .

JACKO : Cheer up, man - least you're being paid for being miserable.

(Fade exterior, but not drop-forge ….

Bring up interior main Factory. The effects of the drop-forge, though still distant are closer than before. The Factory is largely deserted as only the maintenance shift is working. Mix an occasional lathe, a drill, and the beating of a metal panel to define space as we follow Ronnie, thirties, through the Factory - feet on concrete … )

ALFIE : (Off) Have yourself a good holiday, Ronnie?

RONNIE : It had its moments.

ALFIE : (Off) Glad to back, I'll bet ?

RONNIE : Doesn't it show?

ALFIE : (Off) Here, Ronnie - I don't suppose you'll know about ….

(Ronnie has already pushed open a swing door and passed through into a smaller Workshop. It's much quieter here. Simon, late-fifties, is brewing a pot of tea. After a pause

RONNIE : Bloody hell ….

SIMON : (slightly off) Oh hello, Ronnie.

RONNIE : What in God's name's been happening here?

SIMON : I'm making a pot of tea.

RONNIE : Simon?

SIMON : (app) Calm yourself, man.

RONNIE : What's going on? Where's me machine?

SIMON : Gone.

RONNIE : Gone? That machined weighed in at fifteen hundredweight, it's a bit bloody big to stuff in a haversack.

SIMON : Mine's gone an' all. And Jacko's.

RONNIE : Gone where?

SIMON : Scrap, I suppose.

RONNIE : Scrap? And what the hell's that? Under the canvas?

SIMON : Tek a look.

RONNIE : Too right.

(Steps, then stops, lifts canvas cover).

" " : … bloody Nora - what is it?

SIMON : (app) It's a Dalek ….

RONNIE : Dalek ?

SIMON : In hiding from Dr Who - I took pity on it ….

RONNIE : Simon, will you stop -?

SIMON : Can you not see what it is man It's the bloody end, that's what. Dear God, an' I thought you had brains.

RONNIE : Aye - like the saying goes … the penny's just dropped.

(Slow crossfade to Interior Main Factory, as before. The drop-forge is now slightly louder. F/X Card being punched as Darren & Jacko clock in).

JACKO : Damn - five minutes early. Fancy a smoke?

DARREN : Naw.

(Machine punches Darren's card. As they walk through the main factory)

JACKO : (singing) "I'm in the nude for love, mebbe because-".

ALFIE : (off) Hey Jacko - give it a rest!

JACKO : Who's been rattling your cage then?

ALFIE : (off) You mean you haven't heard?

JACKO : "Mebbe because-" .

DARREN : Jacko, man.

JACKO : You know your trouble - too much thinking, too many fancy ideas. There's plenty'd give their right arm for your job.

DARREN : You sound just like me mother.

JACKO : It's bloody true.

DARREN : Happen it is, doesn't make it better though, does it?

(Crossfade back to -

Int Workshop. Simon pours tea, hands a mug to Ronnie)

SIMON : There you go, Ronnie.

RONNIE : Ta. (pause) What we going to do?

SIMON : Wait for Andrews.

RONNIE : Andrews On the night-shift .

SIMON : He was here earlier, said he'd be back to explain.

RONNIE : Bit bloody late for that, isn't it?

SIMON : You can't blame him, he's only Works Manager - this is top management, not him. Should have seen him though, worried sick.

RONNIE : He'll be a lot sicker when Jacko gets here.

SIMON : Aye, nasty temper, Jacko.

RONNIE : They'll not get away with this, I promise you that, Simon. The Union'll not stand for it.

(Pause. From immediately outside the Workshop we hear Jacko give a fanfare).

JACKO : (off, kicking open the doors)Taa-raa!(entering) An' here he is all the way from Sunny Greece - bronzed, handsome, virile, I give you, Jacko the - (pause) What the hell's been happening here?

RONNIE : Welcome back, lads.

JACKO : I said -.

RONNIE : I heard what you said.

DARREN : So where's the machines?

JACKO : Ronnie, what the hell's -?

RONNIE : We don't know, Jacko.

JACKO : Don't know ? What d'you mean you don't know? In case you hadn't noticed there's no machine's in the - Darren will you-?

DARREN : What is it?

RONNIE : Simon reckons it's a Dalek.

JACKO : Let's have the cover off - hold me bait-tin, will you?

(Approaching steps - they stop. Jacko pulls off the canvas cover. After a pause.

JACKO : What is it?

DARREN: It's a robot.

RONNIE : Aye - you know like in them comics we used to read as kids, things that take over the world.

JACKO : So what's it doing here?

SIMON : Can't you guess?

JACKO : Guess what?

DARREN: It's like … like some prehistoric bird, with a huge bent neck and a great open beak.

SIMON : Aye, I see what you mean?

DARREN: (moving slightly off) An'look over here - a keyboard an a computer.

JACKO : Computer Look, will one of you, can one of you tell me what's going on?

SIMON : Andrews'll be here soon, he'll tell you.

DARREN: It's amazin' though, isn't it?

JACKO : Never mind that. So Andrews is behind this is he?

RONNIE : New York, more like.

JACKO : New York?

SIMON : They do own most of the Company.

DARREN: I wonder how it works?

SIMON : Jacko, do you want some tea?

JACKO : Eh?

SIMON : Tea, man.

JACKO : Oh aye, thanks Simon.

SIMON : Darren?

DARREN: Please.

SIMON : He'll be asking it for a date next. (filling kettle) It's a bloody queer world this, an' no mistake.

RONNIE : We might as well all have a sit, there's no work to do.

JACKO : It must be a mistake, it's got to be.

RONNIE : I wouldn't bank on it.

SIMON : Last March, that's when it was, that so called Work Study.

JACKO : Them two smoothies from London.

RONNIE : That's right, you threatened to belt one of them.

JACKO : Did I

RONNIE : The one with the grannie-glasses, said you were deliberately working slow.

JACKO : That gormless bugger. I thought they were Time and Motion, you always work slow for Time and Motion, stands to reason.

SIMON : I reckon they we doing what they call a Feasibility Study

JACKO : What do they know? Couldn't tell a ratchet from a bracket.

RONNIE : I wouldn't be so sure. Look at it - that's quite a piece of engineering, Jacko.

JACKO : No robot can do what I do - I'm the best bracketman this factory's ever had.

SIMON : Oh yes? Are you now? Better than me?

JACKO : You've had your day, Simon - you're too old, man.

SIMON : I can still bracket as good as you, Jacko.

JACKO : Your moment's passed, Simon, you just haven't the speed, not anymore. But me … there's no-one faster than me, not when I set me mind to it. Before the holidays I was putting out thirty pieces an hour. That right, Ronnie .

RONNIE : I don't know - I was on ratchets, wasn't I?

JACKO : Well Darren, he was feeding me blanks, he'll tell you. Darren ! Here, Darren !.

DARREN: (off) What?

JACKO : Before the holidays, thirty pieces an hour I was doing, wasn't I?

DARREN: (off) If you say so.

JACKO : I'm bloody asking you.

DARREN: (off) You see the claw It's got some kind of sensors … it must have a sense of touch, be able to feel.

JACKO : Hey, I'm trying to talk to you !

DARREN: (off) What?

JACKO : Thirty pieces an hour, tell them.

DARREN: (off) Aye, he's right - we got top bonus that week.

JACKO : You see?

SIMON : See what?

JACKO : When them London ponces were here, I was only doing fifteen an hour, wasn't I An it was me they were watching and measuring - I'll knock spots off that bloody robot.

RONNIE : I think you're missing the point, Jacko.

JACKO : So what's the Union doing Have you told the Convenor

RONNIE : Haven't had a chance, have I?

SIMON : Whitfield'll sort them out.

JACKO : He'd better.

RONNIE : Nice to see you taking an interest for once, Jacko.

JACKO : I pay me dues.

RONNIE : Aye, you'll take an interest now - when it's too late.

JACKO : What d'you mean - too late?

RONNIE : We've been set up. That machine must've cost a fortune - d'you really think they're going to change their minds?

JACKO : There'll be a bloody strike, if they don't.

RONNIE : That's just it - don't you think they've anticipated that?

JACKO : How do you mean?

RONNIE : I mean they must feel very confident, stitching us up when we're on our holidays - divide and rule, you watch.

JACKO : Get away with you - the lads'll stand by us, thin end of the wedge this, it'll be their jobs next.

(Doors swing open. Andrews, Works Manager, fifties enters )

ANDREWS: Evening, lads. (no response) I see, like that is it. Look, I was hoping to be earlier, only I was called to the rivet shop. I've come to explain.

RONNIE : You can save your breath, we're saying nowt till we've spoken to our Union.

ANDREWS: Freddie Whitfield's on his way, I was expecting him to be here now actually.

JACKO : Want to do everything proper, do you?

ANDREWS: It's too late for that, Jacko. I'm sorry you've been kept in the dark, but it had nothing to do with me.

JACKO : How do make that out You're the Works bloody Manager!

ANDREWS: It wasn't my decision, and that's the truth - I was only told myself when we closed for the holidays.

RONNIE : Get away, man - this must've been on the cards for months.

ANDREWS: Only the possibility. But you know the Yanks, once they make up their minds.

RONNIE : An' they can certainly choose their moments, can't they?

ANDREWS: Any chance of a cup of tea, Simon?

JACKO : Get your own bloody tea, right lads?

SIMON : Do you still take sugar?

ANDREWS: Two please. Mind if I sit down?

JACKO : Make yourself at home. Sorry, Mr Andrews, I keep forgettin' - we're all meant to be chums here, aren't we?

SIMON : Jacko ?

JACKO : Don't you "Jacko" me.

SIMON : There's a right way an' a wrong way.

JACKO : Oh is there?

RONNIE : Aye there is.

ANDREWS: Jacko's right - you've all been treated shamefully.

JACKO : He even admits it.

ANDREWS: Mushroom management, they call it - keep them in the dark, feed them rubbish, and watch them grow. The Yanks have another saying an' all - automate or liquidate - an' that's why that bloody thing's here?

DARREN: (app) Does it work, Mr Andrews

ANDREWS: Certainly it works. Would you like to see it?

DARREN: You bet.

JACKO : Hang on, I thought we were waiting for the Union?

DARREN: Seeing it work's not going to do any harm, is it Is it, Simon?

SIMON : Don't see how.

JACKO : Aye all right, then - why not? Let's see how good it really is.

ANDREWS: What about you, Ronnie?

RONNIE : Aye, go on then.

(Andrews goes to the Robot, the others congregate around him) .

ANDREWS: The brain of the system is over here- a micro-computer, and this … this is what they call a floppy-disc.

RONNIE : ... floppy disc?

ANDREWS: It's like a record.

JACKO : Music while you work, that's nice.

ANDREWS: Aye, but it doesn't play music, Jacko - it plays instructions. It feeds them into the computer and that in turn directs the robot. Every job's broken down into every last detail - every move, every action. This one's for bracketing, every expert technique has been recorded on this disc.

JACKO : Give uz a look? (Andrews hands him the disc) Load of bollocks, the floppy's not even floppy. If it's so bloody clever, I bet it can't make a pot of tea.

ANDREWS: No it can't, Jacko - nor can it skive off, or go on strike, or deliberately bugger up the job when it's in a bad mood.

JACKO : Hey now, that's slander.

ANDREWS: You think I don't know what goes on?

JACKO : Listen, if you've something to say-

RONNIE : Leave it, Jacko. So what about ratcheting, Mr Andrews - can it do that?

ANDREWS: There's a program for ratcheting, for de-burring, for chamfering, for drilling, edging, grinding - every skill needed for every component that passes through this workshop.

RONNIE : You mean everything we know, everything we've learned is on that disc?

ANDREWS: Just about.

SIMON : But … but we're skilled men.

ANDREWS: Your skills are repetitive skills. Let me show you it working. Jacko, can I have the disc, please. Jacko?

JACKO : Look at it, it's nothing, bloody nothing - a bit of plastic.

ANDREWS: Jacko ...?

RONNIE : Give him it back, Jacko.

JACKO : I'm trying to understand, but there's nothing, how can you understand nothing?

ANDREWS: The information's in code.

JACKO : Can you understand it?

ANDREWS: I know how to make it work.

JACKO : Ok, so let's see it work?

ANDREWS: Feed in a few blanks, would you, Darren.

RONNIE : So it can't do that then?

ANDREWS: (typing a keyboard) There's a conveyor belt being installed tomorrow, that'll give it fully automatic feed. All set, Darren?

DARREN: All set, Mr Andrews.

ANDREWS: Right. So watch...

(The Robot performs a stylised sequence of movements and actions - drilling and cutting with exact precision punctuated by a system of compressed air hydraulics. As this happens... ).

SIMON : Well I'll be damned, I never thought I'd live to see anything like that.

ANDREWS: The cutting heads and grippers are inter-changeable as required, all part of the program, all done automatically.

DARREN: It's amazing.

RONNIE : Still think you're the better man, Jacko?

JACKO : No way - it hasn't the speed, man.

ANDREWS: It's speed you want is it? How about thirty-five an hour? Or better still let's try fifty, shall we?

JACKO : Fifty?

(Andrews types more commands and the Robot speeds up).

ANDREWS: ...fifty ... sixty ... and all at the touch of a button. Have you seen enough?

(Andrews switches off Robot. Pause).

ANDREWS: So ?

JACKO : What d'you want? A round of applause?

ANDREWS: I just want you to know what you're up against.

RONNIE : You've made you point, Mr Andrews. So what happens now? Transfer?

JACKO : Transfer? I'm not working in the rivet shop, I'll tell you that for nothing.

ANDREWS: There's no-one needed in the rivet-shop, Jacko.

JACKO : That's all right then.

ANDREWS: There's no-one needed at all.

JACKO : How do you mean?