Paul was well-presented for this. Shirt. Tie. Ironed trousers. It was his first day at this job, and he wanted to make a good impression.

"The work is really quite light." said the man who, he had learned, was called Adam. "Some typing and filing, you'll need to answer the phone. The most difficult duty is minding the machine."

"Sorry?" said Paul.

"The machine. You'll need to look after it. Make sure it has everything it needs."

"I'm sorry," said Paul, "but I really don't understand. Do you mean the printer or the photocopier or something?"

"Oh, no". said Adam. "They're all quite modern models, and they're generally easy enough for anybody to fix when they break down. No, I'm talking about the machine."

Paul looked around the office he was sat in, as if hoping that on one of the walls would be written an explanation of what this man was talking about. It was tidy. Air conditioned, clean desks. A water cooler in the corner. A definite improvement on some of the offices he'd worked in before.

He wanted to keep this job - he really wanted it, and he didn't want to appear stupid to his contemporaries on his first day.

Neither, however, did he want to be unprepared for his work.

"Which machine?" said Paul, now deeply confused.

"Oh, we only have the one." said Adam. "We're quite a small office, after all."

"But what kind of machine is it?"

"Search me if I know." said Adam pleasantly. "I'm a sales clerk, I'm not a technician."

Paul sensed he was getting nowhere with this line of questioning. Still, he would have to know what his duties were if he was to carry them out. "What does minding the machine entail?"

"Oh, you just have to keep an eye on it." said Adam. "Make sure it's happy."

"How will I tell?"

"Ah. You know, I'm really not sure. Ian has some pretty extensive notes on it. I'm sure if you look around his office you'll find them. He always made it seem quite simple, and he had next to no training, so I can't imagine you'll have any difficulty with it."

"No." conceded Paul. "I suppose not."

"Well, I'll show you around." said Adam. "This is our accounting department." He walked Paul over to a desk, where a moderately attractive blond girl was typing busily away at a spreadsheet.

"Debbie, this is Paul." said Adam. "He's our new temp. He'll be working on the Wales report to get us finished in time for September. And he's been good enough to agree to mind the machine for us until Ian gets back."

Debbie smiled, and shook Paul's hand. "Wonderful." she sparkled. "It's been getting very upset without Ian."

"Colin," said Adam, when they had reached the next desk, "is in Sales." A bald man in spectacles, just barely contained in his shirt, was speaking on the telephone. "We'd best not disturb him."

"And here is where you'll be working." said Adam, as they passed an empty desk. From the door behind it came a periodic whirring, clanking sound. "Through there is the office where we keep the machine." Paul pressed the door open.

It was a fairly normal office, except that approximately three-quarters of the floor space was occupied by a large, iron contraption. Gears, ratchets and valves protruded from its surface. Several cogs and flywheels were slowly turning on one side. In several positions were an array of levers.

The visible surfaces shone blue with oil. On one gear, there was what appeared to be a straw hat, perched at a jaunty angle. A golf club had been duct-taped to the side. Right in front of it was a small saucer of milk.

"As I understand it, the main duty is to change the machine's milk. I recall that it needs a new bowl every day. Semi-skimmed, I believe."

"And the hat?" asked Paul.

"A straw boater, brought from Marks and Spencers."

"No, " said Paul, "what I meant was, why does the machine have a hat on one of the gears?"

"Again," said Adam, "you'd have to ask Ian about that. It's his job, not mine. Except that he's specifically instructed us not to contact him while he's away. But if he's added it there, then the machine definitely needs it."

"I appreciate that this isn't your area," said Paul, "but I really would like to know as much as I can about this job as I can. Do you know what this machine does? What it's here for?"

Adam stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Good question." he said. "I can't say I do. It was here when I joined the company five years ago, and we've employed Ian to keep it running all this time, so it must be fairly vital, whatever it does."

There was a loud clank from the machine, as if in agreement.

"And now, I really must be getting back." said Adam. "If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask." He shut the door behind him, leaving Paul alone with the machine.

He watched it run for a while, components jerking in curious synchronicity, and cautiously approached it, laying a hand on one of its polished surfaces and hazarding a pat.

"Good boy." he said.