Chapter 13: Scratching That Metallic Itch

Right near midnight, the villagers descended into their village, or what’s left of it. Now sure that there was no more danger, they combed through the wreckage of their own homes, trying to scavenge what could be saved. But the battle had left nothing standing. All of their homes were destroyed in the battle so reclaiming their property was difficult, especially in the darkness of night.

While her children picked through the ruins of their house for food and furniture, Aina’s eyes were fixed on the two mechas lying sprawled in front of her former home. She laid her hand on the leg of the red-green strider, trailing her fingers up to its knee joint. For the first time, no one was there to scold her for touching

While her children picked through the ruins of their house for food and furniture, Aina’s eyes were fixed on the two mechas lying sprawled in front of her former home. Unable to control her enthusiasm, Aina went up to the two mechas, now prone and defenseless . She laid her hand on the leg of the red-green mecha, trailing her fingers up to its knee joint. This time, she could touch them without worry of being scolded.

Dust and grit clung to her skin, but she felt no disgust. Instead, her pulse quickened. She felt exhilarated, excitement ran through her body. She could finally see and touch a real battle mecha. Her lifelong dream gleaming in steel before her very eyes.

She turned to the other mecha, the strider with blue-black paint scheme. Touching the plating, she felt a rougher texture. She knew it was intentional because only the paint had a rough texture but the unpainted steel did not. If it was intentional, she wasn’t sure what the purpose of such a feature would be.

Camouflage? No, maybe it somehow dissipates kinetic force? I refuse to believe this was just someone’s lousy paintjob.

Her fingers wandered higher, knocking here and there, listening to the echoes. A private game of guesswork: steel thickness, alloy composition, armor type. Every sound was a secret the machine was whispering only to her.

Aina went further up the blue-black strider’s body, her fingers running the alternating smooth and rough texture of the plating. Her fingers wandered higher, knocking here and there, listening to the echoes. It was a private game of guesswork. Feeling the steel thickness, alloy composition, armor type and hardness vs strength by the touch of their hands alone. Every sound was a secret that the machine was whispering only to her.

When she reached the upper torso, where the cockpit was, she tried to climb the blue-black strider, but failed. Her lame left leg betrayed her attempts, making it so much harder for her to push herself up the tall wall of metal and glass before her. With every attempt, she felt more exasperated and more desperate. Her breathing ragged, not from tiredness but from frustration. She was so close, too close to give up now.

Her struggles were accidentally caught by her son Irek. He quickly looked for a ladder behind the house, its rungs splintered from the earlier battle but still usable. Aina accepted it absentmindedly. Without a word, she carefully climbed up to the front of the cockpitt.

The canopy was fractured, a long crack spiderwebbing from a long stab hole. It was likely the result of the red-green’s strike. Through the broken glass she saw the slumped pilot sitting in a seat soaked in blood. Even from outside in the dim light, she could see that the pilot inside was most certainly dead.

Aina was never one who would be squeamish about blood. She grew up a tomboy, having followed her late father around in the forest, and even slaughtered her own chickens. That was before the government enforced a law banning keeping chickens in residential zones. She also used to have a roommate who came home reeking of rotting corpses from her work at the coroner’s office. So neither the appearance of blood nor the sight or smell of corpses would shock her, only the inside of the cockpit that mattered.

And for that reason, she touched around the cockpit, looking for a method of opening the hatch. Due to her bad leg, she walked very carefully on the chest part for some kind of lever or button. As a robotics engineer, she knew that the pilot would have to go in and out somehow. There will be situations where the pilot will not be able to come out himself, either because of intoxication or injury. Therefore, it would make sense to have a method to open the cockpit from the outside to rescue the pilot.

Unless of course, the pilot is considered expendable and is married to the control chair until the end of his life. But that would be quite unlikely. You’d need to either train the pilot out of brainwashed children or devotedly loyal people for such a system to work. Anyone else would just rampage all the way to the king’s palace if they were forced to be part of such a suicidal role.

A sharp sting on her finger made Aina pull back her hand. Looking at her finger in the light of her torch, she was glad that it was just a little blood and not a piece of glass embedded in her finger. She wished she didn’t need to feel around in the darkness like this and risk getting injured by broken glass, but she couldn’t wait until morning.

Aina wanted to see the inside of a mecha’s cockpit today, without exception. Everything else could wait until morning. But this, this cockpit absolutely cannot wait!

Her search finally bore fruit. On the upper left side of the cockpit, her fingers touched something that felt like a lever. Though whether it opened the cockpit or if it opened something else, she could only guess. Aina pulled on the lever without success. Then she pushed it, also without any change. Turning it counter-clockwise gave a satisfying clicking sound, allowing Aina to open the side door next to the glass window..

The moment Aina entered, the smell of blood hit her nose like a brick to the face. Even for someone apathetic to death, it was impossible to ignore such a thick stench of blood. She had to cover her nose with her right sleeve until her nose adjusted to the stench.

The cockpit was dark and cramped, too cramped for Aina to bring her torchlight inside. But for Aina, just being able to enter the cockpit of a real battle mecha and touching all the controls, primitive as it was, was enough. She had already fulfilled one of her lifelong dreams, anything else could be done later.

Aina carefully went out of the cockpit, then climbed down the ladder. Her son Irek was waiting below, arms open as if expecting she would fall down. Aina couldn’t help but think that this eldest son worried about her too much. But then again, she or rather, this body, had a track record of unhinged insanity.

Since her son was already there, Aina decided to ask for help. Together, they climbed the red-green strider. Its canopy was shattered, sparing them the search for an emergency release. Without the glass canopy, Aina was able to enter the cockpit directly.

“Mother, be careful of the sharp glass,” Irek warned.

Aina didn’t reply but she did take extra care of where she placed her hands. As she was excitedly touching every knob, lever and blinking panel, her hand ended up pressing too hard against the body of the bloody pilot. A groan of pain alerted her and she turned her face towards the pilot. She moved the torch closer to his face and saw that the pilot was still alive.

“Irek! Call the villagers! This one is still alive!”

“Yes mother!” Irek dashed away to inform the rest of the villagers.

Aina looked at the pilot. Half of his face was covered in dried blood, probably from when his head bumped against the loose panel. She touched the back of his head, checking for wounds but found none. Then she touched his arms, pushing gently, pulling slightly, just to see if it’s intact.

Then she removed his seatbelt and turned him over to the sides, before positioning him back to the original position, satisfied that apart from some bruising, nothing was wrong with his back. By the time she started checking if there was anything wrong with his legs, her son Irek had returned. With him were the rest of the men of the village ready to help.

While the villagers were busy bringing out the pilots of the two striders, Aina went to the other side of the village to check on the three other pilots. She noted how much easier it was to open the red-green cockpits instead of the blue-black side doors. But the other three pilots were not so fortunate. One of them was even split in two by a massive chain blade

The night had been disastrous, all the homes were flattened by the battle.

Yet the morning dawn would come with even greater disaster.