The Greatest Mecha-Chapter 42: A Call From The Seats

She puffed out rings of smoke from her mouth as her eyes glanced at the holoscreen before her. There was the projection of a young woman on the other end, and she looked very concerned. She had sleek black hair and grey eyes, and she wore a black leather uniform with the symbol of MUG on it. Behind her was a mech designer studio.

"So what about it?" asked the woman who smoked at her screen.

The uniformed woman on the other end gritted her teeth and said, "Don’t use that tone on me, Alberta. The Silver Seats are not pleased with your absence."

Professor Maria Alberta Einstein chuckled at the screen projected by her comm device. "Since when are they ever pleased, darling?"

The woman on the other end failed to suppress a groan. "When do you plan to tell them you’re on your home planet, or that you’re actually on a secret mission?"

The professor shook her head lightly. "And divulge quality information? Not my style. Besides, what I do with my private life is none of their business."

The woman on the other end tapped her forehead gently. "You’re gifted, Alberta, and no one usually bothers geniuses like yourself. But you’re a goddamn Silver Seat. Unless you take up an heir or disciple, they’ll just keep bugging you. I can’t stall for long. I’m even risking my skin trying to contain you."

Professor Alberta took her cigarette from her mouth and let out a puff of steam before saying, "Such insufferable cunts they are. Alright, just give me a year or two. I’ve almost cracked this thing. How are things on your end, darling?"

The woman on the other end leaned back into the seat she was seated on and sighed. "That’s Vanice to you. And don’t fuck with me, you bitch. The world doesn’t revolve around your sorry ass. There have been speculations that some of the hostile alien regiments have begun to make a move on humanity. Also, the kaiju have been seen dominating more planets."

Professor Alberta fell mute for a few minutes, leaving them both in awkward silence. She spoke shortly after. "Become a Silver Seat, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. But it’s all a load of bull crap. Sure, it has its advantages, but nothing more than a load of work. I never got any time to touch a mech there, so what’s the point?"

Vanice looked at Alberta from her end and responded in a soft tone. "Being on the Silver Seat makes you a symbol for the newer generation of mech designers. The other Seats have many disciples—teaching the next generation to be even better than us."

"Boy, who are we kidding?" Professor Alberta snorted aloud. Her face didn’t take the conversation seriously, but her eyes told a different story. "Power is simply an oppressive front. Look at me. How the hell did I become a goddamn image to anyone? I used to be a poor girl from some trash planet. I used to hate this place. So I left to tour the galaxy. Being a mech designer was the easiest way to go about that. I worked for mercenaries, pirates, and soon the fucking embassy."

She took another whiff of her cigarette before continuing. "Then they started spouting some bullshit about image and change. Truly a pod of crap."

Vanice raised a questioning eyebrow as she said, "But you stayed."

Professor Alberta smiled happily as she played with her hair. "That’s because they’d wipe my slate clean. So let’s be honest—my physical presence is only for publicity for their next tournament coming up in a few years. But here’s what I say: suck my tits."

Vanice groaned loudly. "Why do you have to be so problematic? If there’s something you want, then tell me."

Professor Alberta smiled victoriously. "You really know how to touch a lady’s heart, darling. I want information, and it depends on whether you guys are going to release it or not." Vanice’s gaze darkened at the mention of those words. "Romanus Alpha."

Vanice’s face paled, the colour draining from it. "Where did you hear that name?"

Professor Alberta smiled again. "I’ll give you some time to ponder on that." Saying that, she cut the line and stared at the containment pod that had a serial number and the word Romanus Alpha on it. "I can’t possibly leave this planet till I know where you came from."

She recalled what her colleague had said about the other members of the Seat having disciples. She wondered if she would ever care to take someone under her wing as a disciple. Of the two that served under her, only one of them actually thought of her as his master, while the other had another path in life.

As she was leaving her secret room, she cleaned up her tools and tied her hair up with a rubber band. She suddenly remembered that she had a third person whom she said she would start to take seriously. She had been so busy with her visitors that she had forgotten about him.

"I haven’t seen the measle in a while. No doubt he’s still learning how to make that old mech tick. When he fails and comes to me, I can fix him into a certain area of specialization and be done with him," she said nonchalantly. In Alto, all she could see was a young, ignorant boy with a dream. He acted and talked with great promise, but he had no way to back it up. In the current world, those who could fight against their fates were needed.

If humans had chosen not to fight their fates, they would have never survived in space. They would have never created mechs or formed a great civilisation spanning multiple solar systems. Even if Alto had the courage to fight against his fate, she doubted he would amount to much. There were certain things that limited some aspiring mech designers from reaching certain feats or advancing faster than their shadows, and that all came down to their genetics. There were some genetic limitations that could not be broken down through normal means. Because of this, noble families were known to use gene boosters, but this knowledge was rumour at best. To people like Professor Alberta, however, she knew it was true.

After all, she had used such gene boosters before, and the cigarette she casually took a whiff of every now and then was a much lesser version of a gene booster. It acted as a stimulant and enhancer to some parts of her body. As she went about her day, she couldn’t help but wish for something important to happen soon.

Back in Alto’s room, he was thinking about what he would allocate his creation points into. He decided to spend half of the creation points as wisely as he could. He had only managed to get this one by chance and hard work. The chances of the same happening anytime soon were unpredictable, so he chose to think it through carefully.

He pondered on the things that seemed hard or tasking when he built his mech, and the ways his mech fell short of others. He knew he lacked crucial knowledge compared to the professor’s two other disciples. He had been behind them since the day he arrived, and now, three years later, he could only imagine how much the gap had widened.

Alto hopped into the game once more, only this time with the intention of learning from it rather than working on it. He wished the game had books on mech designing, but due to copyright issues, it did not come with that feature. However, there was a feature where he could observe the gameplay of those who had bought his mech. He watched the battle of his mech in a frozen forest landscape. Seeing ice for the first time stole his breath, but he focused his mind on his real goal and observed the battle.

It was his first time seeing a mech battle, and though not as flashy as he had expected, it was still somewhat remarkable. He watched the clip three times and found himself baffled by the same thing: the opponent of the person who piloted his mech seemed to know where his mech would come out from before he even appeared.

Nothing Alto had studied could explain this strange phenomenon. He decided to do some research on his own. He looked at the specifications of the mech that had almost crushed his, and he was surprised by how capable it was. Its armour and firepower were superior to his. While he had watched the clip for the first time, he had to say he was at the edge of his seat. He had expected his mech to fall short, but it seemed its pilot was gifted.

Looking at the spec sheet of the Blue Knight light-medium mech, he found a few odd elements that his mech lacked. He remembered the Mech Designer Protocol giving him the bold "F" for them in its own evaluation of his work.

Alto realized that his mech lacked basic sensor systems such as heat sensors, sonar sensors, visual sensors. It also lacked an AI interface for the correct optimization of the mech. Alto felt a bit sad for whoever had piloted his mech under such unfair circumstances, but then again, the only reason these things were not part of his work was because the professor never taught him that. Alto wondered if she omitted them on purpose or thought he wasn’t ready for them.

Alto had to agree with himself: he was lacking in basic knowledge like thermodynamics and mathematics. Perhaps that was why he failed to know there was circuitry involved in mechs.

Now, Alto was beginning to feel foolish for being proud of his mech. "What was I thinking? What was I getting all excited for? I created a mech? All I did was create a mechanical bodysuit. If this wasn’t a game, I could have killed someone. I need to do better in future. I need to use the Mech Designer Protocol, hit the books, and learn more. There’s more to building a mech than just making the gears turn or fabricating a piece of armour. It takes actual work and dedication."

Saying those words to himself made him realise something. "Could this be why the professor said that to me those years back? Could this be why they rarely made a full mech? Are my seniors incompetent? No, it can’t be. They’ve been with the professor far longer than I have. Still, it doesn’t make any sense."

He could clearly remember the professor saying something on the first day that they met. She had said she would make him specialise in a special field at best.

Alto shook his head to face his own problems. It took him a while, but he finally decided on what to invest his creation points into.