Letter from Area 51
Dear Randy,
How are things up in Alaska? I could use a vacation somewhere cold, maybe spend some time away from the desert heat. As handy as the facility's AC is, I'm sure it isn't a good enough substitute for the fresh Alaskan winter breeze.
There's been a lot of buzz about this place recently. Since Winter's announcement and proof-of-concept demo at Rio, the Pentagon started chatting up about this place and the potential in turning my little petting zoo into their own anti-mutation force. What started out as a dirty secret that yielded meager results has now turned into a potential bioweapons program. So far, they've shown the most interest in the Thorny Devil, and unfortunately for them it's belligerent at its best behavior. Others that were up for grabs were the giant armadillo, the giant tarantula and the giant rattlesnake, but I seriously doubt they'll do anything more than an inspection.
If you were wondering why I mention the Thorny Devil specifically, that's because it wasn't the only one in our facility. The one that Godzilla killed was the younger brother. We believe it escaped to find new territory away from its older sibling. And if you thought he gave Godzilla a bad time, I think Big Brother here could give him a run for his money. It's a miracle of God we've managed to keep it contained for so long. It's my personal theory that he enjoys feeling like the king of the compound.
Besides, I don't understand why the Pentagon would turn to us first when Monster Island is full of creatures. I don't see why they could borrow one of its inmates from Major Hicks. That Jamaican seafood special of his looks easier to manage than our angry pincushion. Plus, I'm sure the Solstice war machines the military purchased from Winter would already be enough.
By the way, I know you guys are bunked up in Alaska, but there's gonna be a Radicals concert in Chicago in a couple weeks. Think you can make it?
Yours,
Candace
Japan's Robotic Advances in Mutation Retaliation
Feature Article in Popular Science Magazine
Written by: Isaac Giles
Dr. Yukiko Ifukube leads me into the holding facility of her greatest creation. At 45 meters and weighing in at around 80,000 tons, the Goeihei Robotto ("Robot Protector") is Japan's frontline defender against mutations. Despite its fearsome metallic frame, Goeihei wears the visage of a gargantuan simian beast. And now it lies waiting to be unleashed against the next mutation that dares to attack Japan. Although the details of this project remain a classified government secret, Dr. Ifukube is willing to open up on her experiences.
The Long Struggle
"The road to Goeihei's creation is decades old, the culmination of Japanese research into robotics and neural engineering. Although the actual plans for the robot were only formulated a few years ago, the technology it's built on has been around for decades. Motion studies and materials engineering research done in the 1980s had proven the viability of a machine of such scale. Dampers housing thousands of pressure-sensitive balance plates, originally designed for large-scale industrial manufacturing, became a staple of Goeihei's design; a robot of its size would require a dynamic system to permit movement and balance. Experimental AMATERASU SuperCells were harnessed to be its power source."
Despite these impressive features, the machine remained only as schematics, as it was bereft of a computer system powerful enough to give its mighty chassis life. That was until Dr. Ifukube designed the neural matrix. Inside the mechanical ape's metal skull is a complex array of circuitry, near-perfectly emulating the incredible synaptic responses of an organism. This is the key to Goeihei's agility and dexterity in combat. Able to receive and process information in nanoseconds, the robot is able to match the reflexes of the most cunning mutations.
"When I first came up with the neural matrix, I mused to myself that it would be put to use first as a new chess computer to outmatch Deep Blue. I never imagined that I would be making it as the brain for a 45 meter mechanical ape that shoots missiles from its chest and knows martial arts. But as a scientist, the compulsion to explore new avenues of opportunity is too enticing to resist."
Field Testing
Goeihei first saw combat twelve months ago, when a giant mutant king cobra menaced Japan. Despite her efforts, the monster snake defeated Japan's mechanical guardian, and it was due to the assistance of the H.E.A.T. team that the mutation was driven from Japan.
Dr. Ifukube and I stop walking down the catwalk and stare at the robot's face as engineers affix a new layer of synthetic fur, fashioned from state-of-the-art polymers and designed to resist extreme temperatures and acidic corrosion. Despite having disposed of its need to be disguised as a living creature, the synthetic fur and epidermis serve a crucial function in protecting the robot's exoskeleton from bites.
"Deep down, even if I didn't want to admit it, a small part of me knew that in some way or another my robot would fail through some unseen oversight. Even through our thorough checkups, a machine of such unprecedented complexity will inevitably display its bugs. C'est la vie, as the French would say. It's not the most flattering debut of our ultimate defender, but the important thing is that Tokyo was saved and the mutation was defeated."
The Next Step Forward
"Goeihei's first battle taught us many things; the most important was that we underestimated the prowess of mutations. We've worked hard these past few months to improve and innovate on him so that he can protect Japan. Meanwhile mutations continued to surface across the globe, and while we could not participate, we could learn. Each monster taught us a lesson on how to fight."
As I and Dr. Ifukube leave the catwalk, we observe technicians updating Goeihei's neural systems. They wave at us and inform her of smooth progress.
"Unfortunately, the snail's pace of Japanese politics means that Goeihei Robotto remains our only sentinel. Even after the alien invasion I lament at the amount of red tape we have to go through. In a way I envy the Americans. I've heard news of ICE and observed their performance. Frankly, their results are undeniable. Cameron Winter's machines are powerful, yet inelegant; emblematically American. I do not consider his work in competition with my own. Instead, I prefer to see it as a sign that even in these troubled times, the spirit of innovation drives men and women of science like us to face the daunting challenges of the new millennium. I only hope my country's government reconsiders their stances soon before we face a threat too powerful to handle."
We watch as the machine ape's eyes light up green, confirming a clean systems check-up. The doctor smiles at me.
"And I don't intend to sit by forever."