Cassandra wasn't that happy about her superiors reaction to the information given. It was supposed to be great news. They had actual proof of there being more than what a mad man fantasizes about. They knew the location to start looking, and on what side of the river it was. Using the memory banks of the automation, they even knew where a recently used path would be! Everything would work out so much smoother now.
‘Good to hear, Cass. Now do go to bed. We’re not expecting to sleep for the next day or two,’ had been the reply that Grunwald had given. Just… what? Where was the applause, the happiness? It was as if the man couldn't have cared less. From the speed alone, he couldn't even have read it fully.
She really was working with lazy people. Here she was, staying up late to make sure there was as much prep as possible, and there wasn't even any consideration to the intel she was putting out. Cassandra could only sigh at the injustice.
“I wonder how these taste.”
Looking over at her bed, it seemed to lack the large mass called the automation. Jules had seemingly gotten bored with the lack of bounce and had moved on to scouring Cassandra’s room for anything notable. Not that there was much to see, the woman not really living with much. Having a large number of belongings only made it harder to travel.
In its scouring, it had apparently found her box of instant noodles. Cassandra wouldn't say she liked those cups filled with sodium, but it was something that could be consumed at any real moment she wanted it. And it was hot as well, letting her warm up whenever it was needed. They were also prohibitively expensive out in the border-towns, and there was no chance of her getting a resupply of them in the next couple of months, making it very important that they very budgeted closely.
“They taste of cheap products mixed in with bad flavouring. Now put it back in the box,” Cassandra ordered, taking a glance at the logs while she was at it. In the background of her mind, she had been hard at work recounting all the details of the day. With the help of an organizer, the woman had been able to provide an amply made record for the database. It was likely to never actually be read, but she was happy enough with the product.
Only twenty full-sized legal documents to look through. There was an extreme amount of liability waivers she had to sign, to the point where the woman was beginning to question her own insurance. But, everything would be provided for by the government in the end, so there was no real reason to worry about it.
“Everything is subjective. What you might find hideous could be the most beautiful thing in the world for me,” Jules stated, very obviously not putting the cup back into the box. Cassandra immediately looked into what the automation was thinking, not giving it a chance.
The construct was… searching for preparation guides? Just what kind of guide was needed for that stuff? Cassandra looked on for a few moments, flabbergasted at the things put on the internet. There was no need for fruit in such a… It was horrible. At that point, Cassandra already knew the fate of the cup. The least she could do was make sure that it was done correctly.
Grabbing another from the box, she brought both over to the table. Putting on the kettle, she prepared the small cups in the span of twenty seconds. She had done it hundreds of times by now. Doing it quickly wasn't even intentional.
Taking a glance to her side, the woman saw Jules sitting on the floor with a big, dumb face. Cassandra could only sigh, not knowing if she had been outsmarted or had just learned to accept the cruel reality of the world.
In record time, the water was heated, and it was all put into the cups. It had been measured for that exact purpose after all. There was no need to heat more than what was needed. And after letting it cool off for five minutes, it was time to dig in.
Cassandra didn't usually eat at the current hour, making her own consummation slow and without any real purpose. Honestly, the only real reason for her eating it was due to her not wanting to look at the construct eating it.
Not that there was any real moment where she could have seen that. From the moment where she sampled the broth to her looking over at the automation again, its cup had already been emptied wholly. There were only small bits left, hanging on the edge.
Just… what. The automation didn't look like it had moved, Jules’ face was not that different from what it had been two seconds prior. Though, it did look like it was contemplating something, now that Cassandra got a better look. The small movements in the pupils were lacking, looking more randomized than anything.
Stolen novel; please report.
“... eh. I don't get the hype,” Jules finally said, throwing the cup to the side. It landed on the floor, the few bits of flavouring left in it spilling out. Cassandra felt her eyes twitch at that, having a hard time coping with what she had just sacrificed.
“Pick that cup and throw it in the trash, or I will be forcing my remaining dinner up your ass,” Cassandra stated, not sure just what she should use to threaten the automation. Vague ones seemed to be the go-to, so she did not specify what tool she would use.
Jules looked up at her, and Cassandra looked right back. The automation looked at her with an intense gaze, and she did nothing but match it. The construct made its eyes glow with a bright light, but Cassandra wasn't impressed in any real way.
“... Fine. Not like I have one of those but whatever,” Jules said, giving in to the overwhelming pressure of a lady looking down on it from a chair. Truly the most feared being there was.
The automation was swift in its disposal of the waste, putting it all in the bin with no stains on the floor. It was a surprisingly good cleaner, even if there were no tools given to it for that purpose. Cassandra almost felt like trying to ask it to clean the rest of her room. A good part of the closet was in disarray, so there was a good number of parts to remove. Though… she would leave that request to another day.
“Why are you able to taste things?” Cassandra asked, mildly curious about that fact. Automations had a bunch of functions to them. That was essential, with their job ranging from scouting to helping old ladies get over the road, to what could only be called high-intensity combat with armoured combatants. They could do a bit of everything. But… having a range of tastes just didn't fit in with that image. Just where was that needed?
“Because I have a mouth? They usually come equipped with the ability to taste. Though, I guess not if you have one of those weird genetic modifications. Not that I could have one of those since there isn't anything that can get modifications but I still think it would-” Jules began to rant, but Cassandra couldn't have cared any less.
“That’s not what I meant. There has to be a functional reason for why you have the ability to taste. Is there not a scenario where it would become useful?” Cassandra inquired, putting more pressure on her voice.
“Well… anything could be useful for the right scenario, so I suppose it could come in handy,” Jules said before sticking their tongue out. It was as blue as painted water, with all the roughness expected of a human tongue. Certainly a detailed piece of non-organic matter. Cassandra would have certainly believed it to be the real thing if shown a picture of it. It could have been excused as an extreme case of cyanosis even.
“Any examples?” Cassandra requested.
“Sure,” Jules said, immediately accepting it. The construct apparently had no qualms about sharing information about its specs. Not too surprising, since Cassandra could look it up herself, but it was still nice to have one step removed from the whole process. “This thing here that you call a tongue is something of a brilliant thing. With billions of sensors on it, I’m able to detect just about anything with it, be that from either air, liquid, or metal. Even now, I could tell you the exact composition of the air you're breathing, I could give you a rundown of the toxic materials that haven't been disposed of in that cup of noodles, and I can detect just how much sweat has been produced in this room in the last hours. Poison can be checked after as well, so I suppose that’s something as well. If I ever decide to protect the president, you can be sure that I’ll be doing a taste test of everything.”
… That was something to hear. Cassandra gave her apparently toxic noodles a look before deciding that it was worth it. It hadn't killed her yet, after all. Her body needed something to do, after all, so giving it a few toxic chemicals wouldn't do that much. Though… just what were those chemicals again?
Phthalates. What was that exactly? Skimming the information pages, Cassandra had to once again reconsider her choice to continue the consumption. Sleep-related trouble was apparently very common with it, yet… the snack was too good to leave. Her body would just have to continue to live with. If all else failed, she could always just take a few pills to keep herself awake.
Cassandra took a few minutes to finish her snack. While she did look at the mixture a bit differently, it was still noodles in the end. It had to be eaten quickly, lest it would become a big soggy mess. While others might have enjoyed such a thing, she was not part of that group. Throwing it in the trash, she once again looked over at the automation. Jules had some of her knives.
“Put those back where you found,” Cassandra said, feeling more and more like a parent of some sort. It was not a nice feeling.
“Fine enough. Do you want to talk about my tongue more? I do love talking about myself nowadays,” Jules said with no shame.
There was an idea about rejecting the automations suggestion. But… When Cassandra looked at the paperwork she could do instead, the good choice became readily apparent. There really wasn't any question in it all. Especially when it was a boring kind of work.
“I suppose,” Cassandra said, putting her hands on her thighs and sitting up a little straighter. Her back needed to be properly adjusted, lest she would get bad posture over time. That definitely needed to be avoided at all costs.
“Well, then get to it. What do you want to know? I would even let you touch if you want? From the notes taken during its creation, it apparently feels like sandpaper,” Jules said, putting his head a little forward to entice the idea. Cassandra was, of course, quick to reject the idea, not feeling comfortable getting near anybody’s tongue, much less one that could smooth skin away.
“I think I will refrain from ever doing that,” Cassandra said. “However, I do have one other inquiry. You weren't too impressed with the taste of the noodles, implying that you have favour towards a specific kind of taste. Is there a reason for that?”
Jules took a moment to answer the question. Cassandra casually checked if the automation was searching online for the answer, but… the construct seemed eerily silent inside as if the programming was finding it hard to find anything to do or say. Something was definitely going on inside, but it was pretty much just a black box to the woman. All the information was neatly formatted, yes, but still only readable to the box that it came out of.
“I… I guess I just have it. There’s nothing about why I have it, but it’s likely done to make me seem more detailed. No real being does not have a favourite snack, right? I would just seem like a piece of metal without loving something.”
Jules did not seem happy. Slowly but surely, the construct raised itself from the floor, stretching in an entirely human manner, before walking towards the door.
“Do get some sleep now. We both have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”
The door was shut without the slightest goodbye from Cassandra. She just watched it all with curiosity.