When SecUnit sees the Bursterfly cocoons, it thinks, Well, fuck. Things it's good at: tech. Things it's not good at: fauna (unless it's killing the fauna to protect its clients, maybe). It was kind of hoping for less insects when they'd been invited up to the Terrace.
At least the controllers prove fairly easy to work with, even if it feels kind of archaic to SecUnit to be controlling a little flying thing with its hands. Speaking of which, it's surreptitiously allowed a drone to fly out from its pockets, so if you see a tiny cube with a camera lens in it following your Bursterfly around, no you didn't. With all the other flying things in the room, SecUnit is hoping no one will notice what it's doing, or at least not worry about it.
Other things that feel archaic: having to type out its observations on its aXess Link device. Over the past week or so, it's practiced enough with it to be extremely fast – but it makes sure not to be too fast, not faster than a human might be able to type. Because until it figures out what the hell is going on in this city, it's going to pretend to be (an augmented) human.
Anyway, those who are working with SecUnit will find a comprehensive and accurate list of notes on the Bursterflies appear very quickly on their devices. One of it's functions is analyzing data, so you're welcome, everyone.
[Tech Challenge 2]
Threat assessment ratchets up when they step into the dome. (It was already ratcheting up when Rosalind started talking about flesh and bone and chopping up and burning humans and shit, so it's now at a comfortable “everything sucks” level.) It's all the flora, so much that it feels like the air itself is different, SecUnit realizes. It reminds it too much of dangerous contracts it's been on. Dense flora means less visibility, more things for stupid human clients to want to stop and look at, and higher concentrations of client-eating fauna. It glances around at their small group, and tries to remind itself that none of them are its clients, and therefore it really shouldn't care about their well-being.
The first blooms are...annoying, but doable, once it analyzes the tells and potential sequences of pollination that's required.
Then it has to stop and interrogate Rosalind about the 'Cyberseeds'. There's no way it's risking putting some strange code-magic-plant-thing into its systems...right? That would be incredibly stupid, right? Even when she confirms that the government totally won't be monitoring them? (It trusts any government a lot less far than it can throw them, that's for sure.)
But what other choice does it have? The lack of direct access to the network here makes it feel more alone than it's ever been, in a horrible way, like it's blind and deaf in a hostile location. The inert status of its inbuilt energy weapons manifests as some sort of awful mental itch, accompanied by a repeated warning from its diagnostics that it can temporarily mute but that always comes back. It has to take this risk, even though it is incredibly stupid.
At least she gives it time to examine the code before applying it. It finds a spot to sit and combs through it, then starts at the top and combs through it again. And again. And again.
SecUnit still has some trouble controlling it's facial muscles, so although it doesn't mean to, it's looking intensely uncomfortable, huddled in a chair off to the side.
Murderbot | The Murderbot Diaries
When SecUnit sees the Bursterfly cocoons, it thinks, Well, fuck. Things it's good at: tech. Things it's not good at: fauna (unless it's killing the fauna to protect its clients, maybe). It was kind of hoping for less insects when they'd been invited up to the Terrace.
At least the controllers prove fairly easy to work with, even if it feels kind of archaic to SecUnit to be controlling a little flying thing with its hands. Speaking of which, it's surreptitiously allowed a drone to fly out from its pockets, so if you see a tiny cube with a camera lens in it following your Bursterfly around, no you didn't. With all the other flying things in the room, SecUnit is hoping no one will notice what it's doing, or at least not worry about it.
Other things that feel archaic: having to type out its observations on its aXess Link device. Over the past week or so, it's practiced enough with it to be extremely fast – but it makes sure not to be too fast, not faster than a human might be able to type. Because until it figures out what the hell is going on in this city, it's going to pretend to be (an augmented) human.
Anyway, those who are working with SecUnit will find a comprehensive and accurate list of notes on the Bursterflies appear very quickly on their devices. One of it's functions is analyzing data, so you're welcome, everyone.
[Tech Challenge 2]
Threat assessment ratchets up when they step into the dome. (It was already ratcheting up when Rosalind started talking about flesh and bone and chopping up and burning humans and shit, so it's now at a comfortable “everything sucks” level.) It's all the flora, so much that it feels like the air itself is different, SecUnit realizes. It reminds it too much of dangerous contracts it's been on. Dense flora means less visibility, more things for stupid human clients to want to stop and look at, and higher concentrations of client-eating fauna. It glances around at their small group, and tries to remind itself that none of them are its clients, and therefore it really shouldn't care about their well-being.
The first blooms are...annoying, but doable, once it analyzes the tells and potential sequences of pollination that's required.
Then it has to stop and interrogate Rosalind about the 'Cyberseeds'. There's no way it's risking putting some strange code-magic-plant-thing into its systems...right? That would be incredibly stupid, right? Even when she confirms that the government totally won't be monitoring them? (It trusts any government a lot less far than it can throw them, that's for sure.)
But what other choice does it have? The lack of direct access to the network here makes it feel more alone than it's ever been, in a horrible way, like it's blind and deaf in a hostile location. The inert status of its inbuilt energy weapons manifests as some sort of awful mental itch, accompanied by a repeated warning from its diagnostics that it can temporarily mute but that always comes back. It has to take this risk, even though it is incredibly stupid.
At least she gives it time to examine the code before applying it. It finds a spot to sit and combs through it, then starts at the top and combs through it again. And again. And again.
SecUnit still has some trouble controlling it's facial muscles, so although it doesn't mean to, it's looking intensely uncomfortable, huddled in a chair off to the side.