The construct was able to capture the run-away, though it ended with the automation giving the kid a bloody nose. Cassandra was not too happy about that.
“Well, it ain't my fault he wouldn't stop flailing around,” Jules said in its defence. Cassandra was not buying it. “Who could have possibly known that the dose would be too small?”
“You would be able to know,” Cassandra answered bluntly, having seen the records for the dose-size. Even a child would have been able to stand after such a pitiful amount. The woman didn't even know it was legal to fire with such small amounts. How was there not a minimum amount? “I warned you of the fact that he would be running over to you, ten full seconds before he got to you. I even included estimated body weight so that you could give him an accurate dosage on the spot.”
But the automation clearly hadn't done so since Cassandra had been the one to administer it in the end. That wasn't something that the woman liked to do, to the point where she almost just kicked the teen in the head to make him keep down. Not that she actually did it since that would cause a pair of parents to have gotten their knickers in a twist.
“I screwed up. Let’s leave it at that,” Jules said in an attempt to mend the bridge. Cassandra just stared at the offered hand with a look of contempt until it was finally receded. “Or… I can offer work in exchange for forgiveness. I’ll carry all the dead weight into the car and you won't have to do a single thing in the meanwhile.”
That caused some mood improvement, Cassandra warmly smiling at the automation before going right into the car. Inside, she turned on back protection, making a small plastic shield extend from the roof, separating the forward and back seats from each other. It was normally used to keep the violent people from grabbing the police officer’s throat, but it also worked as an excellent way to keep out the common complaints of young people.
Sitting in the seat opposite where the driver was supposed to sit, the woman was able to calmly observe Jules struggling to carry all four teenagers without bumping their heads into various corners and odd-ends. It was a hilarious thing, only increased in humour by the fact that it was incredibly terrible at making sure the safety was in order. Luckily, it was all classified as accidental damage and wouldn't actually matter in the end. Not like the teens were aware enough to realise what was even happening around them. Drugging kids was nice like that.
Ignoring the automations desperate attempts at putting four decently sized teens into three back seats, Cassandra opened up the live feed for the news station. It was… still ongoing. It started more than ten minutes ago, taking up more space than nearly any other segment on the entire show. That was… a little weird. Grunwald was still talking after being asked a question, and the reporter was still being asked to ask more and more of them, yet… they all seemed a little unnerved by it.
Similarly, the feed had switched over to purely showing Grunwald and the reporter talking, the station-side only getting sent in through audio. And even then, Cassandra was quick to notice that it seemed a bit flickery. Grunwald's voice was being heard very clearly, but some sounds from the station had a bit of lag to them. Was it due to a bad connection perhaps? It was rare these days, but things like that were entirely possible.
Wait… then shouldn't it have been the other way around, the station having a good connection while Grunwald was flickering? Yeah, that should have been so. What was it then? There had to be something wrong with it.
Cassandra considered logging into the news network’s server directly to have a look but then she thought better of it. A moment of looking inside would equal a mountain of paperwork that she had no interest in filling out. And since the comments were not reacting harshly to the event, the woman could only guess that things were as they were supposed to be. Nothing out of the ordinary or not out of the ordinary enough for her to truly be concerned.
Looking at the feed, Grunwald certainly seemed unperturbed by the lack of end to the interview, even if the reporter beside him was showing signs of a smile faltering. Maybe the studio just had more questions than anticipated. Nobody could ever truly know. Or it could be that there was some higher-up who wanted to put the police in the negative light and was trying desperately to get some form of answer that could be used as click-bait.
One could only wait and see. And wait Cassandra would, Jules finally getting into the driver's seat. Looking back, the woman was quick to find that the bunch of teens had found themselves half-dead, looking groggier than over. One long belt was along their bodies, stopping them from moving around too much. Though… all that spittle coming from their mouths was just about the most disgusting thing the woman had seen for a long time.
“Do you think they would all survive being in the same room through the night?” Cassandra questioned, not wanting to search up the proper codes for imprisonment procedures. She knew drunkards could all be put in the same room, but there had to be some form of rules set up for the underaged. “Just have to make sure we don’t screw something up.”
“We won’t do anything too badly if we bunch them all somewhere with beds. The worst we’ll get from that would be parents complaining that their children got a stiff neck the day after,” Jules commented. Cassandra was not quick to mention that one of the girls would likely have something more extreme than regular stiffness, a rather dramatic fall causing some minor whiplash. It wasn't close enough to be dangerous, but the woman was sure that something would come of it if allowed to progress. Maybe she could send in some skin cream to soothe it if requested. Only if asked, however. No need to make it seem obvious that she understood the consequences.
The car was turned on and off the side of the road they were on. Cassandra looked outside, noting that the sky had turned much darker in the short time they had been inside the building. By that point, flashlights would truly be needed to see without the light-poles having been turned. Not that they truly helped out on the outskirts, the damned things being distanced so far apart that they did nothing but be beacons to estimate length by.
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“Do you think we should drive around the outskirts to check for any other would-be thieves?” Cassandra asked the automation beside her. It wasn't a rhetorical question at that point, the woman very clearly wanting some advice on the subject. “Grunwald doesn't seem like he’ll be done in the next while, so it’s not like we have to rush back to the station with the bastards. They might even be lucid enough to walk inside the cells of their own accord if we give them some time to sit in silence.”
Or maybe sit in silence for ten minutes before being randomly awoken by extreme death metal. Cassandra had one track lined up for the occasion, thinking it a good way to awaken the criminal if the need for it was ever required. Not that she thought it was entirely humane to do, but the courts would likely look at it as more of a bad attempt at a joke than anything.
“I guess we could do something like that,” Jules responded in an off-hand tone, not entirely sold on the idea but neither really having anything else to do. “Would be funnier than having to wait in silence for the bastards to wake up since there is no reason I am carrying them again.”
“Were they really that heavy?” Cassandra questioned. “From what stuff you have bragged about, I wouldn't see them as being more than a mild trifle.”
“In pairs or just alone, they wouldn't be more than a trifle,” Jules responded, clearly very serious about the topic. It went so far that it even looked at her rather than the road “When you put all the little fuckers together, you get something I just can’t work with easily. They are some heavy things, I tell you.”
“Nobody said you had to carry them all at once,” Cassandra pointed out. “You could have taken more than one turn getting them all into a car.”
“What person would ever-” Jules began, but was stopped by the extremely loud screech of a pair of wheels being forced to stop. Cassandra had her weapon out in an instant but stopped upon realising what was happening.
“Please don't tell me you ran something over,” Cassandra started with an exasperated tone. The moment that they looked away from the road, some bloody rabbit or something like it just had to see the perfect timing to kill itself. It didn't happen often in the current time of the year, but it similarly wasn't the weirdest thing one saw on the outskirts of the town. At least Cassandra knew from the lack of blood on the windshield that they hadn't driven into a drug addict high on whatever drug had been found in the trash bin.
“I don’t think I did,” Jules said, looking rather confused. “The cameras certainly didn't pick up anything.”
Nothing on the cameras and no animals in the back or front wheels either. Since the automation wasn't making comments about red streaks, Cassandra had to conclude that there weren't any dumb animals that had been killed accidentally. But then, just what had that god-awful screeching been?
Looking closer to the front wheel, Cassandra got her answer really quickly. While not immediately noticeable, there were a few holes here and there on the thing. Somehow, the wheel had been punctured. Looking onto the back wheel in the same fashion, the woman found a similar hole in the thing. Not much air was being sent out, but the woman supposed the pressure of the new humans on board had to have caused some kind of acceleration.
“How many spare tires do we have?” Cassandra asked the automation, not having personally looked over such small details. It wasn't like the woman had ever personally dreamed of needing to change a tire. Never before had she even seen one damaged, the things able to survive for longer than most cars. The more expensive ones could even be used for several generations. So, having a destructed pair meant more than most would be expected.
“None?” Jules said with a weird look. “Did you really expect this car to have one lying around? We barely have space for the people and gear. There isn't really a place to put in a tire as well.”
“I should have figured,” Cassandra stated, not liking the reality she was living in. Looking over at the tires once again, she supposed it could have been caused by the glass shards. Many had been driven over that day, some perhaps being of higher quality than what was required for it to be unsafe. Some had obsidian levels of sharpness to them, after all. There was a reason robots were made to clean it up. “Do we have some tape then? I suppose we could just pump it full of air ourselves.”
“You severely overestimate the ability of tape and severely underestimate the power of manual pumps,” Jules stated with a shake of its head. “Neither will be helping us now. We might need to get some extra tires transported to us.”
“Damn it,” Cassandra stated, knowing that it was true.
Who to call though? Jared and the automation beside him were likely not able to leave. Neither was it truly a good idea to do so, the government having several problems with leaving a sick man in a building alone. Who else was there to ask?
Grunwald’s automation was a likely candidate. The thing was technically meant to transport Grunwald when the interview was over, but that was still going as quick as before, with no real chance of stopping. Cassandra was sure the man would forgive them for making it help them.
‘Can you read me?’ Cassandra sent to the automation. It took a moment but the answer back did finally come.
‘I can. For what reason have I been called?’ the automation answered back, as professional as ever. Looking over to Jules, the construct was clearly able to guess what was happening and had just as clearly left the task entirely up to Cassandra. How great an automation the construct was, so full of work ethic and determination.
‘We need you to go back to the station, grab four standard-sized car wheels and bring them back to our current location. The ones on our car broke and we are currently escorting criminals that are unable to walk the rest of the way,’ Cassandra answered. Inwardly, she was cursing at herself for not just letting them go directly towards the station. Of course, she had to be smart about it. If not for that, how would they ever improve?
‘I have been told to wait here until Grunwald has finished his interview,’ the automation answered back instantly. Cassandra did not appreciate that answer.
‘I am sure that Grunwald would be happy to have you assist us instead of sitting around doing nothing,’ Cassandra sent back.
‘I am not doing nothing. I am waiting for Grunwald to finish his interview so he can be escorted back to the station as quickly as possible.’
… Cassandra couldn't deal with this.
‘Send Grunwald a message about my request and see if he agrees.’
The woman looked at the live feed and was clearly able to see a slight pause in the man, though he continued nearly instantly after. To anybody else, it might just have looked like the man was taking a slightly longer break to breathe. He was speaking quite quickly, after all.
‘Grunwald has accepted your proposal. Expect me to arrive within ten minutes.’
Cassandra could hardly wait, sitting back into the car and shouting a few obscenities at the world with idiots she was being forced to live in.