The Phantom Clearance

The air here is dense, blue with overheated graphite oil and metal scale. One hundred eighty heavy hydraulic presses are aligned in three parallel lines along the eastern wall. Each press is a twelve-ton cast-iron monolith containing a beating steel stamp piston. The hiss of hydraulics—strike—crash—the scrape of the retreating carriage. This four-stroke cycle has repeated every two seconds without variation for the past thirty years.