When the automation left, Cassandra didn't feel like doing much else. She spent a good twenty minutes making sure that all her paperwork was in order, prepared what little more she could for the next day, and then went to bed.
Not that she fell asleep or anything. Who would ever think that? One does not brush their teeth, do five minutes of stretching, and then lay down in bed in total silence, expecting to fall asleep within the minute. Certainly not Cassandra, who had been hoping to get the whole ordeal over with.
But… insomnia was once again plaguing her, the mind unwilling to back down from its curiosity. What was the mind curious about? Everything. There was not a single thing that had happened throughout the day and night that she didn't ponder upon. The instruments used by the criminal that she had nearly caught, how her smaller mistakes caused a larger loss, how little reaction there was from the others about that loss, how she couldn't help but blame herself for it, how Jules was unnaturally cheery about it all, and how the automation was so utterly uncomfortable about its own consciousness… it was all so overwhelming to the mind meant to sleep.
Cassandra had been awake for over twenty hours now, and her body was beginning to feel that toll. It needed to rest, to regather itself, repair what had been damaged, and to get itself up to the standard that was needed for the next day that would be spent travelling around on the rough ground. Yet the brain was once again not on the same level of acceptance. Constantly, ideas about different paths were being put out. Cassandra couldn't have cared less about what else she could have done! Why did she need to think about it all now? Yes, there could have been some form of positive gain from the extensive retrospection, but it was doing nothing but being counterproductive currently. If she didn't fall asleep, there would be yet another day of lacking sleep.
Looking over at the small table beside her bed, Cassandra sighed, before reaching over and taking one of the pill-cases. One type kept her awake when she really needed them, but they were recommended for rare use only. She had already used one of them that same week, so she did not feel too happy about taking another one so soon, which was why she chose another strategy instead.
Sleeping medicine. Normally, there would be next to no pressure surrounding its existence. Millions used it daily, lest they too would suffer sleep deprivation, be that due to pains, stress, or other forms of sicknesses. Cassandra had it on different terms than them, though. She couldn't use it daily.
That was because of a slight problem called immunity. Augmented bodies had many side effects, most of them being positive. Together with strength came reinforcement. Cassandra could be hit by a speeding car and likely survive the whole ordeal. She could drink absurd amounts of alcohol without destroying her liver. And, worst of all, she could take all the regular sleeping medication she wanted without the slightest effect.
Or, there would be an effect in the end. But it would be like a dam finally breaking, something equal to a hundred times the recommended dose getting right into her bloodstream. It was safe to say that she would die from that.
Which was why she needed something different. It was perhaps not more intense in the same way as just increasing the dose of the regular medication. It was closer to a pill attacking from a different side. Just what was that side? Few had the clearance to know.
Cassandra only knew the warnings. The medication wasn't meant to be taken more than once a month. Anything more than that would allow for serious medical conditions. It was partially why when the medication was ingested at all, that it was considered safe practice to watch out for the symptoms of Anemia. For all intents and purposes, it was stupid to even think about consuming them.
Together with a glass of water, the woman got one down her system. Putting the pills back where they belonged, Cassandra lied back down on her bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she looked up at the ceiling. It was roughly made, ugly, and most likely something that hadn't been cleaned for many months now. All in all what would be called a health hazard to any normal human.
But that was that. Cassandra wasn't entirely human anymore. She had so many things implanted in her body that the purists would call her an abomination. How she dreaded having to meet her cousins if a family gathering ever was to happen again. The last visit had not been liked. While her parents had great ideas and aspirations, the extended family was… not of a similar mind. Different ideas clashed, and different ideas of what was the most important thing in the world caused a whole ruckus.
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Maybe if she explained it to them in a new way, they would finally understand it all. That the future would never be ideal if the human body was not changed around. Evolution had gotten them far, but the last step could only be taken by the humans themselves. Bioengineering would bring the next generation to perfection, and nearly every aspect of life could improve because of it. If only they would listen to her talk for more than five seconds.
Cassandra’s last moments awake was spent wondering if her aunt had gotten out of prison yet. That woman really shouldn't have said those things in public.
‘Are you awake yet?’
Eyes went wide, as the body worked hard to get out the bed in an instant, arms instantly reaching for the revolver as…
Cassandra was in an empty room. There was nobody with her. She was the only one there. The only person she could shoot with that thing would be herself, and she wasn't planning to do that anytime soon. Taking a deep breath, the woman tried to get her pulse under control once again, composure needing to be regained.
That was one effect she would never overcome. Her utter and total defencelessness while under the medication. There was no real telling how much sound was needed to awaken her. Or for how long she would sleep. Cassandra just knew that she would get what amounted to a small panic attack the moment she awoke as if she had a sudden realization about somebody being close to her while she was asleep. Which did remind her…
She got a message. In her sleep-addled state, the woman had thought to have gotten an intruder in the room, yet it turned out to simply be an annoying automaton that had decided to send her a message.
…
Ignoring her earlier thoughts, Cassandra began to realise that it hadn't been one message that had gone unanswered. It was one hundred and eleven messages that had not been answered yet, all coming from the very same source. Jules had methodically sent a message every twenty seconds.
‘Isn't it time to leave?’ ‘I’m already ready. Where are you?’ ‘Are you asleep?’ ‘If you have anything against me eating the rest of your snacks, please object within the next ten seconds.’ …
The messages just continued on and on, the automation somehow always finding more to say. At one point, it even described how to debone a fish of all things. Cassandra couldn't believe it, honestly. But, it was getting close to forty minutes since the woman needed to have been ready to leave. While she hadn't relayed this information to the two others, Jules had been told of it. Clearly, it had been expecting her to uphold this fact.
‘I am awake, yes,’ Cassandra sent back, sighing at herself. Now… she needed to take a-
‘Did you get drunk when I left or something? Pretty sure those messages are meant to awaken you no matter what,’ Jules sent. The woman barely had time to detract her mind from the virtual send button before the reply had come. Just what was this speed supposed to be? Could it at least pretend to be human in this instance?
‘Some people sleep deeper than others,’ Cassandra answered, formulating the answer as she finally got herself together, turning on the shower from a distance. It was set to be as cold as possible, and it more than just woke her up.
‘Yeah. Dead people can ignore that. You should not have been physically able to sleep through the messages without having some kind of outside influence on your mind. Are you sure that you didn't drink so much that you can't physically remember it?’ Jules sent back instantly once again. The automation was clearly trying to reason with her about its theory. Not that it didn't have some ground in reality. It would take extreme amounts of ethanol before she could really ignore any messages.
‘If I had consumed enough alcohol for that, I assure you that I would not be able to communicate with you,’ Cassandra sent. Currently, she would likely have been in medical stasis, her body being purified from any alcohol that might have been consumed. Much like the regular version of sleep medicine, it would only hit her past a certain amount. But when it did hit, it would fit with the full force of a tsunami, putting her down in the dark within a few minutes.
‘That sounds like you're talking from experience, but whatever. Is there any other reason you might have overslept to an extreme degree?’ Jules asked, seeming to not have it in itself to put pressure on the subject,
‘Nothing that you need to know about. I am ready to leave in five minutes,’ Cassandra said, getting out of the shower. In record time, her hair was dried, clothes put on, gear sorted through and hand-picked, and she walked out of the room.
Which was where she was faced with Jules standing right in front of her door, waving at her kindly.
"... How long have you been standing there?" Cassandra asked, squinting her eyes at the automation. Its clothes were properly straightened, with no wrinkles to be seen. That was the first hint of no real movement. The other was that the lights to either side of her hallway weren't turned on, strongly hinting at the fact that neither side had had movement in the last thirty minutes.
"About an hour now," Jules said bluntly. "Are you ready to leave now, or do you want to take another thirty minutes eating breakfast?"
Sarcasm. Great. How utterly and completely great to hear. The only step that was needed for an automation to seem fully human was to put out a mean-girl impression. If Cassandra had any desire to laugh, she would've.
"We’ll get something on the way out," Cassandra answered, walking towards the cafeteria. There were rations that could be taken. After that, they would be leaving. There was much to do, after all.