Beam and Wheel

The robes are new. Four hundred years ago it was overalls, and the ritual was called maintenance.

They raise their hands at the same moment every cycle because, long ago, somebody had to reach up and turn a valve at exactly that moment or the beam would slip. The valve was removed three centuries back. The hands still go up. The hymn they sing is the old maintenance checklist, word for word, with a melody added.

I don’t correct them. The beam doesn’t need the valve. But it’s the only part of the job they’ve ever been allowed to feel holy about, and I’m not going to be the one who takes it.