The chainsaw gave a cheerful sound, humming brightly as it spun.
Its battery-powered engine drove a blade made of ultra-hard composite alloy, just a regular forestry tool without anything particularly special—happy to hum shrilly as it turned smoothly.
“Wow, oooohhh! Amazing!!”
Frederick seemed rather excited, but in truth, he wasn’t doing anything particularly complicated. He simply opened the outer casing, reconnected a few disconnected wires, and the chainsaw was back to normal.
However, what truly puzzled me was that this thing hadn’t completely deteriorated due to “aging.”
Composed of simple steel and composite materials and without any special treatments like being coated with micro-machines, this chainsaw carried a code engraved after its model number indicating that it had been manufactured a thousand years ago.
“…Personally, I think the fact that this machine has lasted a thousand years is more impressive.”
Even if it was broken, that this could be fixed with simple manual effort and likely worked all the way up until now without the easily-worn blade ever being replaced was astounding.
Like how the Tech Gobs used prayer and dancing to activate the “holy lance,” perhaps magic really does exist on this planet.
One of the Three Holy Saints, A.C.2, or Saint A.C. Clarke, once said something along these lines: highly developed science is indistinguishable from magic.
Though this is essentially just a way of saying that for prehistoric humans, lighting a fire with a lighter would have been akin to magic, it doesn’t quite explain why a piece of technology can last a thousand years without complex processing.
Clearly, something outside of normal reality is happening on this planet.
Or else, how could there be a species born naturally with photon crystals—which require supergravity environments that we carefully construct while tiptoeing along the edge of black holes, avoiding event horizons—that possess reality-bending capabilities from the get-go?
“Can you talk to mechanical fairies or something?!”
“Well, I grew up among ruins, so I’m good with this kind of stuff. Are there any other broken things around?”
“All of them! Oh, wait, what about this brush cutter over here?”
After stopping the engine, I took a look at the brush cutter he pointed out. It turned out that its simple wire had broken and there was some debris in the motor. Once panels were opened to reconnect wires and the motor cleaned with compressed air, it worked again just like that. A little oil and it would likely be back in service in no time.
“Amazing! We’ll make it through winter with this!”
“…Wait, does that mean the organic conversion furnace has been running for a thousand years as well?”
Curiously examining the furnace producing electricity for the village, I noticed its serial number and product code displayed via an AR tag.
The product name was Sol98-2 General Organic Conversion Furnace.
This wasn’t high-spec either—it was a product of the “Zodiac Republic” from the old Earth system. Isn’t that supposed to be a joke name since the solar system was abandoned ages ago?
Ah, right, the “Inanna 12” was a ship we built and sold to the Zodiac Republic, which explains why the mechanical blueprints recorded in the internal 3D forming machines were all different.
Still, how could something like this last a thousand years without micro-machines? That seems off. Even my class one type A prosthesis has exceeded its service life, so why haven’t the hard composite plastics and alloys worn away?
This truly feels like magic.
I’ve heard that it’s because the Gear Priests pray over these things, but if by default the humans on this planet have “reality-altering abilities,” then that calls for a much closer investigation.
After all, there really are beings who use their own brains to interfere with quantum mechanics and distort reality—a common trait among carbon-based humans from the old Earth system. Their abilities are truly indistinguishable from magic, yet using them recklessly out of “instinct” or “vague feelings” makes them dangerous, plus their penchant for creating self-serving utopias makes matters worse.
It was the trigger for the Fourth Old Solar System Conflict, involving seventeen interstellar nations in a huge commotion.
It was a tragedy. We chose not to get involved and instead observed silently from afar, but if I recall correctly, there were around two million casualties. While musing over how they could treat lives so carelessly, I remember watching the battles with a bag of popcorn in hand, dealing with a time lag of several hours between outer space and the battlefield.
“Hey hey! If you can fix the chainsaw, can you do the same for the shredder?”
“Hmm? Ah, this one will require some disassembly. It looks like only chips of wood have clogged it up, and the old oil has hardened.”
The pointed-out machine was a wood chipper, which improves the efficiency of the organic conversion furnace by breaking wood into smaller pieces. Though corn is better fuel, with some ingenuity, it’s still edible—albeit reportedly awful—so I can see they were on the razor’s edge of survival.
“Alright, since I’ve got nothing better to do, I’ll fix it. Though, what’s the situation that makes winters so tough here?”
“We have food, but it gets brutally cold during winter. The winds from the mountains to the North are fierce, and it gets bad when they blow in strong.”
Noticing his shirt jacket was slanted left rather than centered and the cuffs were rolled in a way that indicates cold weather gear designed not to catch wind from the front, I recalled that it’s done in cold areas to avoid frozen sweat-induced hypothermia. Knowledge from VR games, of all things, is paying off.
“And, though snow rarely falls, freezing rain and sleet do. If the heating doesn’t work, it’s a matter of life and death.”
“So, if we don’t address it, the furnace’s efficiency will drop, and heating won’t reach all the houses?”
Indeed, it’s a matter of life and death. Whether the entire estate freezes silently to death or tries its luck with highway robbery would be my decision if I were in their shoes.
“We got a tax increase last year because of some holy war nonsense. Corn was confiscated, and we had to make do with wood chopped by axes and grass cut by the brush cutter. But now that the shredder’s broken too, things look grim.”
“That must’ve been rough.”
Making sure the power was off, I dismantled the chipper with my multitool, wiped away the grime, and cleaned up the moving parts with Frederick’s help. Slowly lifting the heavy gear back into place, it was up and running within half an hour.
I’d have preferred specialized machine oil, but lacking that, I made do with grain oil for now, which is better than nothing.
“Wow… You’re amazing, seriously! You’re like a saint from the holy scriptures!”
Saint of the harvest, companion to the Great Mother, and now a saint? At this rate, I’ll be hailed as a god next.
“I’m not anything special. Just a soldier.”
“Soldier? But you don’t seem arrogant or anything…”
“What are you talking about? Military personnel are the ugly shield. Servants on the front line who bear the first obligation to die in defense of the public?”
How does that translate into arrogance? The values here are completely different from what I’m used to.
But this is a good chance to learn about their culture here, so I don’t unintentionally offend them by saying something out of place when I go to the holy city later. I’m effectively in a situation akin to being reincarnated in another world, yet I don’t want to unknowingly run rampant and cause chaos around me.
Also, no disrespecting royalty by being overly familiar either.
“Hey, I’m not asking you to fix every single machine, but could you help out the neighboring estate too?”
“Neighbor estate? Why?”
“My sister married into that family. I just got word that they’re struggling real bad. It’s a prosperous estate with rich farmers, but their ‘Yotsuashi’ is broken, I hear.”
“Yotsuashi” seemed to be the local name for a work loader, referring to a loader in a machine shed silently sitting idle, causing Frederick’s expression to somber.
“Our place can survive through worst-case scenarios by doing everything manually, but my sister’s estate, Breadleaves, is expanding. Without this loader, it’s going to be a huge problem.”
I see. Knowing the convenience of machines is a double-edged sword—it binds people to the land. Without the technology to move the conversion furnace, machines taken away would quickly lose power, and continuing agriculture and forestry for furnace fuel using iron tools would be incredibly difficult now.
Truly a cunning and effective structure.
“Nozomu! Where have you been?!”
“Ah, Galatea. Just helping people out a bit.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t mimic a Gear Priest, but I never said you could impersonate one, did I?”
“But if I didn’t, the villagers here probably wouldn’t survive the winter.”
Galatea’s kind-hearted nature left her speechless, and she groaned softly, falling silent.
Also, I don’t know how much authority Gear Priests have, but I’ve already done a number of irreversible things.
I practically made the “Great Mother” my exclusive property, using stereoscopic forming machines—exclusively reserved for the holy sanctuary—extensively, and I continue to do so.
Every time I follow such doctrines meticulously, planetary exploration doesn’t progress. Two thousand years have passed, but I want to return home—to the multiple rings orbiting that star.
I want to introduce this fascinating planet to everyone.
What, two millennia later and our family probably hasn’t changed much anyway.
Our national philosophy revolves around development and hedonism; we often rile up other nations into wars out of pure joy, but we have dependable allies in our union with whom we can count on.
If we put our minds to production, we could gather a fleet of four million ships at four thousand ships per seat and transform all our citizens into highly capable soldiers by installing software. Few if any realms could destroy us. Moreover, if necessary, we can escape by moving our ringworld to another star, and sometimes we’ve avoided war this way. We’re stubborn, messy in our survival, and surely still around.
Therefore, I strive tirelessly for my return home.
“By the way, Galatea, what were you looking for me for?”
“Here is intolerable! We’re going straight to Lord Ashberry!”
Her sudden burst of anger left me puzzled. She was flushed with indignation, her honey-colored skin turning red in anger.
“Normally, Gear Priests tour the estates, giving blessings to the machines! How could it be that they haven’t visited here in three generations of landlords?! This is nothing short of negligence of duty!!”
“Aren’t they just short-staffed and busy?”
“Even so, they should have come! Why are the villagers paying the tithe, if not for this?!”
Ah, the church holds power after all. So, the tithe is indeed one-tenth, huh? That means the local tax rate might be six-to-four between the nobility and the commoners?
“I protest as the Magius Geanaite! If we can’t reason with Lord Ashberry, we’re going to the Holy Capital and impeach Baron Exiel of the Border!!”
The enthusiasm is understandable, but she needs to calm down.
“Let’s gather petitioners from nearby estates! I really hate having to ask this of you, given you’ve already helped us so much, but would you help the borderlands’ people again…?”
“There’s no need for such ceremony, Galatea. I help those in need.”
Besides, in a VR game, you simply can’t ignore quests this obvious…
I always aim for full completion in side quests, aiming to earn those coveted completion trophies. And even without that, I tend to play as a self-sacrificing saint due to memory wipe-induced immersion into the game.
“Is this acceptable, Captain? We will be deeply involved in local politics,” said a voice.
“Far too late for that, isn’t it, Selene?”
After all, we intend to slay the dragon that threatens the Holy Capital for our own return. From the start, we knew this would cause a stir. It’s no problem to earn favors while at it…
Besides, if we can use this to convince them to let us explore the “Inanna 12,” it could be entirely worth the hassle…
[Planetary Exploration Note] Reality-deconstruction ability: A quantum-interfering technology that generates abnormal phenomena in three-dimensional space by interfering with the defined reality field. While scientifically understood to some extent, it poses the risk of catastrophic universal failure and is unpopular within the higher civilizations.
Today’s update is abnormal.
The next update is scheduled for around 07/22/2024, 18:00.
