The Slotted Collar

A rhythmic metallic vibration rattled down the upright steel column of the drill press, drawing our clustered weight across the chilled concrete. We halted together, claws pressed flat against the oil-darkened base to decode the tremor. Click. In synchronized consensus, our dark mass climbed the cast-iron foot and poured into the shadowy recess beneath an overturned metal spindle pulley. Tucked inside the cylindrical core rested a heavy, knurled depth-stop collar, cool and threaded with fine grooves. Interlocking our jointed legs, our pincers gripped the slotted notch, while our curved stingers curled inward, anchoring our collective firmly within the chilled iron hub.