She takes photos following the app’s instructions, converts them into survey data, and sends it to the client’s Amashiro Agricultural Development Group server.
“easy, easy……”
Work is going extremely smoothly.
Peaceful enough that a squirrel can sit there calmly nibbling its food. Few aggressive predators, no fighting.
The occasional predator she does spot is small — something like a snake with external gills. Threatening to a squirrel, maybe, but one look at an Actanoid and they run.
Chihaya pauses and takes small sips of orange juice.
“sipping juice, crunching chocolate snacks. what a civilized occupation……”
She’s in her element. The relief of a job with no risk of Actanoid damage — she’s moved to something approaching awe at how much lighter it feels.
And since she’s just operating an Actanoid, there’s no need to leave the air-conditioned room, which means the temperature and sun strength that come with fieldwork aren’t her problem at all.
Actanoids have been gradually replacing human workers on some job sites in Japan too, though plenty of areas are still undeveloped for it. Regulations on radio bandwidth are apparently strict, limiting it to specific uses.
The client Amashiro Agricultural Development Group is a joint group between a private corporate group and the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries. New Frontier flora and fauna are heavily regulated and difficult to bring back to Japan, but the Ministry partnership smooths out the export permit process considerably.
As a government-affiliated group, this large-scale survey is rumored to serve as a pilot program for Actanoid use within Japan. In fact, she’d been notified in advance that some photos may be used on the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism’s website.
Chihaya is humming along through the work when a sudden red warning on the system screen makes her flinch.
“what!?”
Bracing for more fighting, she reads — a nearby Actanoid has sent out a distress signal.
She wants very much to pretend she didn’t see it. She averts her eyes, and maybe that’s not what tips off site supervisor Okuma Kenichi of New World Tree Housing — but a voice chat request comes in anyway.
“Please recover the Actanoid sending the distress signal.”
Of course I have to go, Chihaya has the Allrounder disengage the safety on the assault rifle Breakthrough.
But listening to what Okuma says next, it doesn’t sound like combat will be necessary.
“The Actanoid stepped on a Makibishi Plant and sustained damage to the leg — it can no longer move under its own power. Given the possibility of additional Makibishi Plants in the area, please recover it with caution.”
Hearing Makibishi Plant, Chihaya nervously eyes the undergrowth.
The New Frontier endemic plant known as the Makibishi Plant is one of the most despised plants among Actors.
A shade-tolerant plant that can’t germinate without a certain level of salinity — so it developed a way to obtain salt from animals.
What it developed for this purpose is a specialized structure called a root-burr. These root-burrs grow underground, tipped with sharp points and barbed like a vicious pinecone. About ten centimeters long — not small.
When an animal steps on the leaves at the surface, the root-burr fires upward like a pile driver, skewering the animal from below. A large animal sustains serious injury, and the barbs make it impossible to pull out.
The skewered animal retreats to a safe hiding spot and dies there. From the nutrients — particularly the salt — in that carcass, the plant germinates and spreads.
The fact that it tends to grow in spots where animals shelter — in shadows and dense undergrowth — makes it all the more insidious.
These Makibishi Plants also trigger when an Actanoid steps on them, damaging the leg. The result is almost always damage severe enough to prevent independent movement, which is why Actors despise them as natural traps.
Listening to Okuma warn everyone about Makibishi Plants over the group voice chat, Chihaya walks the Allrounder toward the distress signal.
By their nature, Makibishi Plants are likely to be clustered in the vicinity. A seriously injured large animal wouldn’t try to move far.
Makibishi Plants are probably near the distress signal. Even an Actanoid’s mechanical leg could be skewered, so careful movement is essential.
Staying out of the undergrowth as much as possible, she advances — and finds an Allrounder with the root-burr driven through its right foot.
“came in through the heel……. that’s rough”
It can’t move the ankle, so the toe would catch on the ground and topple it.
It’s not total destruction, but an Allrounder with its weak processing power can’t manage the balance compensation well enough. And with the weight involved, trying to use an assault rifle as a crutch would just bend the barrel.
The most straightforward solution is to amputate the right foot. The toe is the problem, so removing it would actually make walking easier. A machine-specific solution.
The stranded Allrounder apparently reads the direction of Chihaya’s thinking, because it switches on its speaker and addresses her.
“——sorry. Please, no amputation if possible. It’s a tight month, and even in this state the repair bill is actually less than amputation.”
Asked apologetically, Chihaya has no choice but to nod and agree.
There but for the grace of whatever.
Chihaya uses her own Allrounder’s wire to strap the rescued unit to her back, cinches it tight with the winch function, and secures it properly.
Carrying a damaged unit on its back, even the Allrounder’s pace drops considerably. She plods back toward the camp in the Akane Forest at around twenty kilometers per hour.
“thank you so much. I’ll treat you to something next time. oh, if you don’t want to meet in person, you could call on me when you need an extra hand — I’ll show up. ——hello? can you hear me?”
The rescued Actor keeps talking through the speaker, but Chihaya deploys her social anxiety to its fullest extent and maintains complete silence.
Apparently deciding she must be angry, the rescued Actor’s voice gradually trails off and eventually goes quiet.