The Mech Touch

How could a man like Barrow Rakovshchik willingly diminish the worth of all of his accomplishments in the business sector for a dream that was not only unobtainable, but also false?

A successful first-class chief executive that had managed to climb high enough on the corporate ladder to understand the truths of many matters should have known better. Mech piloting may have become a glamorous profession in this day and age, but a significant part of that was due to the unceasing propaganda efforts of the Mech Trade Association.

The MTA had successfully reshaped human culture and much of its institutions to revolve around mechs.

The mechers worked so hard to elevate their favored war platforms that they worked hard to suppress everything else.

Infantry? Too small and weak.

Warships? Too big and destructive.

Tanks? Too inflexible and easy to defeat by mechs.

Aeroplanes? Too one-dimensional and not cool enough.

Starfighters? Same as aeroplanes but in space.

It only took several generations for the entire population of the human race to treat these assumptions as gospel.

Yet the truth was much more nuanced. It was not always the case that mechs outperformed other war platforms. The main reason why mechs had remained so dominant was because too many economies of scale had formed around their development and production.

Even if mechs became less efficient than starfighters, the former was a lot cheaper to design and mass produce due to the huge amount of existing infrastructure and trained personnel!

If other combat machines such as starfighters enjoyed similar advantages, then mechs would face an uphill battle trying to dethrone the dominance of cheaper, simpler and less demanding small craft.

Perhaps the people living in the lower layers of society were unable to discern these truths, but Barrow Rakovshchik had to know better.

Mech piloting had become a galactic obsession by design. It was only due to the will of powerful leaders at the start of the current age that mechs completely displaced the position of warships, starfighters and other war machines.

Being a mech pilot was also not as glamorous and enjoyable as it sounded. Mech cadets

Had to forgo other studies that could allow them to become a useful addition to the normal workforce.

Instead, they largely had to spend their years learning how to fight and study the theory that would help them do so more effectively.

Once they entered the workforce, most mech pilots would never participate in any serious combat for their entire careers.

This was partially because signing up to work as a guard or other civilian duty offered little exposure to true combat.

Those who joined militaries or outfits that saw combat on a more frequent basis weren't paradises either.

Most people remembered the heroes who survived the battlefield and managed to thrive under the circumstances.

They hardly paid any attention to the many mech pilots that suffered untimely deaths and turned into forgotten statistics.

Only those who survived continuous challenges and managed to showcase special talents woul have the capital to turn into true celebrated heroes!

Yet how many mech pilots could earn this coveted status? Breakthroughs were few and far in between. The vast majority of ordinary mech pilots never received the opportunity to step onto the path of godhood for the first time, thereby causing them to feel increasingly inadequate over time. ⱤãꞐổᛒËS

Becoming an expert pilot was as rare as people developing good genetic aptitude if not rarer.

A human essentially had to win the lottery twice in a row in order to be able to trigger apotheosis and become a demigod!

The vast majority of mech pilots eventually recognized their own mediocrity and ceased to pursue a breakthrough that became increasingly more fleeting as they aged and started their own families.

Mech piloting had lost much of its glamour by that time. The veterans who managed to persist at this point mostly recognized that their jobs were not so special anymore.

They were glorified soldiers who risked their life and limb to wage war on behalf of distant leaders and politicians.

They suffered all of the hardships of combat yet earned almost none of the rewards. Their higher social status granted them a bit of satisfaction, but it did not necessarily make them or their descendants rich or famous.

Even if only a fraction of the human population was eligible to pilot mechs, there were still too many mech pilots for all of them to become famous enough for many people to know by name!

Far more mech pilots ended their careers without the glory that they imagined back

When they were optimistic youths.

To sum it all up, to become a mech pilot was nothing more than to become another pawn in the conflicts of this day and age.

Only the rare few possessed the strength, skill, courage and luck to promote to more powerful chess pieces.

Yet it was unrealistic to invest so much of your life in a pursuit based on a

Low-probability event.

As a businessman who worked in various different positions at Yarad Industries, Barrow clearly understood how to perform a rational risk-benefit analysis.

He could clearly understand that it was completely stupid to devote so much of his life to a profession that wasn't even as great as everyone thought.

Yet Barrow could not help himself. His obsession had rooted itself too deep into his

Psyche. Common sense no longer held any sway over him on this matter. His adoration and his desire for mechs had grown too strong during his youth, and had never faded over the years as was the case for many other norms.

Medical professionals had already categorized this phenomenon as a mental disorder. In other words, people like Barrow were actually sick in their minds!

The only reason why most people did not take it so seriously was because every other norm suffered from this mental affliction at one point in their lives.

The only difference was that they recovered from it sooner or later.

In the case of outliers like Barrow, that 'later' would probably stretch on until he had breathed his last breath!

Barrow did not deny that he may be suffering from a mental disorder.

He just did not think that there was anything wrong with it. His compatriots over at the

NMRI agreed.

When the CEO commiserated with the chief scientist over his latest discussion with his wife, Idni Zenokon made a dismissive scoff.

"This is why you either marry a person who shares the same dream as yours, or just tolerate your spouse for a few decades before filing for divorce. It is much more pleasant and much less disruptive if you fulfill your obligations towards your parents and your family and raise your children to adulthood before ending your marital relationship. I do not understand why you continue to tolerate the presence of that woman." Barrow crossed his arms as a response. "That is because I do love her, you know. She is more than a means to continue my family line to me. We merely do not see eye to eye on

This subject."

"It is your loss." The chief scientist shrugged. "Are you at least able to transfer the funds

In time? We have already begun to make preparations to begin Project WR-14, but we are short on liquidity. The sooner we have the cash in hand, the sooner we can begin our large-scale experiments."

"The monetary transfer will take place within the week." Barrow promised. "I cannot speed up the process any further. Our family still has rules."

"Understood." Idni pressed his lips. "We can use the additional days to perfect our experimental design. Even if my objective analysis indicates that the results from Project WR-13 are not significant enough to prove that we can produce a better result, Project WRW-14 still gives me hope. Any progress is better than no progress. If we run out of time, we can entrust the completion of our great undertaking to our successors. The NMRI must always persist so long as we have yet to complete our cause."

"For the cause." Barrow intoned with utter seriousness.

The two proceeded to split up and handle their separate affairs.

Chief Scientist Idni Zenokon had to prep the research labs for Project WR-14. Treasurer Barrow Rakovshchik had to handle all of the financial paperwork.

By the time the evening arrived on this side of the planet, the workers and researchers either left the complex or stayed behind in order to have a drink and continue to share their fantasies about achieving a breakthrough in their research.

Even though everyone understood that the probability that they would actually be able

To succeed was virtually nil, none of the members of the NMRI expressed any skepticism.

They literally couldn't. To deny the possibility that they could pilot mechs was no different from stabbing them in the heart!

Just as Barrow was about to say goodnight to Idni and return to his estate, the chief

Scientist suddenly received a surprise call.

Idni raised his eyebrow, but listened to the private call. Once it ended, the researcher

Continued to frown.

"Who contacted you at this hour?" Barrow softly asked.

"An old... friend." Idni replied. "He used to be one of us, but he... became involved with

The wrong sort of people. That is all I can say about this subject."

"Oh? There must be an important reason why he chose to resume contact with you.

What did he want?"

Idni shifted his gaze and took note of the emptying lounge. "My old friend did not convey

Too many specifics. He only shared a few code words that we established many decades ago. I cannot confirm whether he is being truthful or whether he is still deserving of my trust. However, if his claims turn out to be credible... then I truly cannot afford to miss this reunion even if he hinted that we should not bring a security detail. You should come as well. I can guarantee that you will be just as interested. Do you have

The guts to accompany me to a clandestine meeting?"

"Do you have to ask?" Barrow grinned as he finished his rice wine. "If this is a plot to

Kidnap us, then we deserve it. I have enough of a life without mechs.

"Then stay over for the night."

The night came and went without incident.

The next morning, both men boarded a shuttle that flew to a smaller and less developed

City.

Once the vehicle entered an underground warehouse, Barrow and Idni stepped out and noticed that they had entered an isolated and shielded location.

What was strange was that hardly any personnel were stationed at this facility. Only a

Dozen or so black-clad individuals were spread across the main storage floor. Each of them were holding scanners and used them to check the conditions of the cargo containers that were occupying a small part of the warehouse space.

The only individual who moved closer to the parked shuttle was a black-clad man with a

Disturbingly calm bearing. "Idni. You have brought a friend."

"I have, Radagast. Do you object?"

"No. Mr. Rakovshchik is known to us. Besides, we never intended to keep our cargo

Confidential for long. Your friend may be able to help us deliver our new goods to the right hands without getting intercepted in advance."

Both Barrow and Idni began to frown.

"What have you brought to us, exactly?" The chief scientist of the NRMI asked.

The man known as Radagast grinned while raising his arm. "You will love this, old friend."

He snapped his fingers, causing a sharp noise to echo across the mostly empty

Warehouse.

At the same time, a cloaking device shut off, exposing a mech that was positioned a

Dozen or so meters away from the new arrivals!

Both Barrow and Idni initially did not look too impressed. They had seen thousands of

Mechs in their lifetimes. Many of them were much more impressive than the rather generic and cheap first-class mech that Radagast revealed.

The only noteworthy distinction was the decorative third eye symbol placed on the

Forehead of the mech. It exuded a mysterious vibe that caused the two to suspect that there may be more to this seemingly plain mech than what was obvious on th service. "What is this mech?"

"This, my old friend, is the Auto Heretic Version A, and you have no idea what that

Means."

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