Being stared upon was always a tough thing to bear through. The feeling of one’s eyes upon the personal body, every detail being looked over with apparent scrutiny. It was utterly impossible to know what was being thought of when those eyes flickered at the different locations, impossible to know what flaws were being collected internally.
In other words, Cassandra wished Jules would stop staring at her. The automation was not even pretending like it needed to look forward when driving, the hands barely on the wheel to begin with. Instead, every second was spent staring at her, no blinks letting the pressure off at any moment. Cassandra had just stared ahead, eyes forward, hoping that faked ignorance of the eyes would make them disappear. If anything, that only made them look at her harder.
Why oh why had there not been any calls yet? Hours most have passed by, by now. It sure felt like it, even if her brain implant let her know only one had gone by. It must have had a malfunction. Just like the damn malfunction that Jules had in its internal functions. Cassandra had at first thought that it would be a slow-turning stare, yet the time had shown it would just continue. Ignorance would not work anymore. She would have to go on the offence for this one.
“While I am unable to order you to silence, I can still file complaints about your behaviour,” Cassandra said, beginning her stare-back at the automation to her side. Having only used side-glances to ascertain the stare, to begin with, she had been unable to see the wide smile on the machine's face. It was only more unnerving that the expression had not changed for so long. “Such a complaint will be filed if you do not change your current behaviour.”
“But I am abiding by your rules!” Jules protested quickly, still wearing an albeit muted smile. “You wanted me to be quiet, so here I am being as quiet as I could be. And, you said nothing about smiling, so I have done nothing wrong!”
… It was surprising how much Cassandra disliked the words said. She felt a stronger inclination to slap the automation on the head, even if she fully understood that it would bring nothing but pain in her hand. That little scrap-bucket… maybe she could tase it? She hoped there was some way for it to feel pain.
“Even if I did not order you to refrain from such behaviour, there are protocols that you are expected to abide by. The regulations state clearly that behaviour which causes uncomfortableness should be refrained from fully,” Cassandra said, reading up from the rule-book she had brought up in her sight. “As a machine meant to help the population abide by the law, it is expected you do the same.”
It had a fast-push thought attached, as was required for all police officers. When doing anything unusual, it was strongly encouraged to make sure they were allowed to do so. The state did not want any controversies, after all.
“There are always exceptions to every rule. I, for one, saw the current situation as an emergency and had to act in what way was needed. This is fully within my allowed duty as a public servant.”
…
“And just what emergency would that be?” Cassandra inquired, already knowing it was going to be-
“Happiness!” Jules proudly proclaimed, as if it was anything anyone should have been proud of. It was shameful. “The feelings generated when you gave me a name made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Do you know how dangerous heat is to automations like me? It's like our own personal green rock! I just had to expel all this emotion, or I would have burst!”
“I find it hard to believe that you would burst from emotion, much less spontaneously combust,” Cassandra started with a dead-pan tone. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at her current life. A bucket of scrap was making her blood pressure rise to levels that old people were afraid of, using nothing other than its voice. “And, if such a scenario was realistic in any way, I am sure you could have done better things than stare at me.”
“We all make mistakes in the heat of passion, Jimbo,” Jules said, a pompous voice coming out of the mouth. It felt forced. It felt bad. Cassandra could barely look at the thing with anything but disgust. How she wished for it to malfunction at that very second, to reset to what it had been before. Only a day ago, she had loved the lack of conversation, the time where she could only hear her own thoughts. That had all been ruined now.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Why wouldn't it just shut up? The world would be brighter, better, and a place where Cassandra would like to be. So many mistakes had been made over time, and Jules was clearly one of the biggest.
“I am unable to explain my hate that I have for you,” Cassandra got out, unable to think of anything else to say. It needed to be said. Not like she would be looked at as rude for saying something like that anyway. People shouted at machines all the time. This was no different.
There was no pulse in that thing, no air being processed. The rising of its chest was but a disguise of the gears and bolts inside. The iron was not alive, and there was no way Cassandra would ever look at it in any other way. They were a means to an end. A way to appease the populace, a product to show off. Nothing more than that. It would be anything more than that.
“Hate is just another form of love,” Jules said, beginning to hum to the song starting up on the radio. It had been quiet just a moment ago, yet the automation found that it needed to be louder. Much louder. Loud to the point where Cassandra lowered it as quickly as she could, not being in the mood for any soundwaves felt in her chest. The scrap had the audacity to make a moaning noise from that. “Hey! I was going to enjoy that.”
“You have enjoyed much as of late. If you enjoy it too much, you will burst. Look at this as me doing you a favour,” Cassandra said sarcastically, feeling that bad reasoning was much deserved. ‘What hurt oneself must hurt others twice as much.’ Someone smart had said such a thing not long ago.
Jules stared at her. She stared back, not feeling like adding anything else to her statement, even if the automation was expecting her to do so. It wasn't always that everything wanted was received. No pushy parents to push it on them. Nobody at all. Maybe that was why the steel found humour in it, beginning to laugh boisterously at her words.
“That was a joke! You just said a joke!” Jules said, pointing her finger at the woman. Cassandra did not find it near as funny, swiping the pointed digit away from her face. That only seemed to make it more hilarious to the automation. “The cold, unfeeling machine is finally feeling the oils working? A miracle is upon us! Praise those that pray for this time, lest we forget that Jimmy is the true lord.”
There was no way that the automation had guessed that the mention of that particular name would not make something spark in Cassandra’s mind. She knew it, and the automation was likely prodding on, testing to see if the intended reaction was showing. Her mind was spinning along, projecting memories of puppets, songs, and a happy, giddy ten-year-old that tried to join in at every opportunity. It had been a fun time, a time where there was nothing but a smile on her face. And the memory made her lip twitch.
Perhaps it would have been more than a twitch if given enough time. That was not given today, at that very moment. The sound had stopped it. Not just the laughing being sent out of the automation, but also the screeching ring of an emergency call being sent through to the van. Or… it would have already been answered by now, really.
The screech was just a reminder that the time for relaxing had passed. Something somewhere was serious enough for police intervention. As the information finally transmitted fully over to Cassandra, any happy thoughts that had begun to spring up had faced out of existence, replaced by the cold expression of job commitment. It was why she was there, after all. And this time… this time there was no chance of her failing.
The automation accelerated the car, moving it to speeds that were only allowed in times of emergency. Cassandra had no care for it, however, already in the process of scouring the network for anything she could get her hands on.
Another break-in! While the alarm had sounded out, it had only been for but a moment, before going abnormally quiet. A call-sign that something had gone wrong for a thief normally perfect in their execution. The model of the alarm was not the same as before. No… it was a newer model, equipped with more protections than the ones the earlier break-ins had.
There were still many buildings that had the old ones. Why did the thieves change their attitude now? What made it necessary to take a larger chance?
… Medical stores. That was it. While some of the previously mentioned stores had medical supplies, it was only meant as secondary supplies. Nothing serious. Nothing that would require it to be stolen. The ones with the newer alarms, however… they had more than anybody could ever need, with more variety than anybody could ever reasonably know of.
The thieves needed something specific. Now, all the easy targets had been hit. They had begun their second choices now. For them, it was hell on earth. For Cassandra? It only meant that her job had become so much easier.
Jules was silent now. No words came out of the steel now. Looking over at it, Cassandra noticed the automation wasn't even staring at her anymore. In fact, it gazed forward, eyes flickering around the street. Was it using both the car’s cameras and what it had on its own?
A small bonus. Not one she had guessed would be used by a machine previously hell-bent on destroying a professional work-atmosphere. But… it would do. Yes, it would do just fine.
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Troy bowed down, as low to the ground as he possibly could. Even without the whine, the sound of a vehicle driving on a road nearby could be heard. The wheels on it had lost traction for but a moment.
‘Think we should be worried?’ Troy signed smoothly, the sentence having been used so many times before. By now, the young man could do it without even thinking about it, the movements more natural to him than breathing. Perhaps that spoke more about him than it did anybody else.
‘It is not too near yet. Move quickly and silently. There is still much to do today,’ Adam replied, not taking much time to space his words. If it had been anybody else, they would have likely been incapable of understanding the jumble of mutterings, not accustomed to the speed.
Troy? He just continued on, doing his best to go unseen for even a second more. For such was life for a petty thief.