My modelling career ended as soon as it began.
The gears ground to a halt when life pulled the technician away. Without a fix to the problem, no one cared to locate the cause. The machine sat in silence as the walls around it rotted away. Rain drenched the cogs and wheels, lightning struck its highest parts. Floods swilled the silt around it until it was encased in sediment somewhere deep beneath the ocean where no one cared any longer.
The search for a sunken ship uncovered the machine and scientists and media rapists tried to figure out what it was for. Specialists came in to dissect it, clean the parts, and reassemble it. They got it working again, headline news in twenty countries, broadcast worldwide the next day, but even with it running, no one knew what it could do.
The gears were spinning. Spinning all they could. But what did it do?