Cassandra didn't have to do much during the clean-up. When Grunwald had told her that she would be overviewing the cleaning process, the woman had been expecting something more… inclusive. Maybe she would be helping move a few of the heavier objects, maybe manually destroy some of the thicker parts of the ice, or maybe even make sure that everything was up to code.

None of that was done. Instead, she sat by an open car door, bored as hell while looking over a small army of small robots that could do nothing but hack off small bits of ice. They all worked in tandem, some taking away the ice into prepared containers, while others sorted all out all the glass, while the final ones were the robots actually doing the digging itself. It was very neat to look at the start. Cassandra wouldn't lie about enjoying what she saw.

It wasn't every day that she saw such a large amount of teamwork, after all. Large-scale automatic operations were a rare thing to ever get one's eyes on, the actions are mostly done in the dark in warehouses no humans had ever stepped inside. Rarely was there ever a need to have moving robots out in the open.

Everything was designed to not need maintenance, making the small robots on wheels something of a rare, emergency item. Cassandra had been taught about their uses during her education but never had she actually taken any kind of tests or training related to it. There was just the expectation of them never being needed.

And that was true, most of the time. It was only in the most extreme circumstances where such things even needed to be considered as a good solution. How long had it been before this one? A good year? Maybe two. Cassandra followed the news to the minute, making sure that every major controversy was within earshot. It had been quite a while in the country since there had ever actually been something as big as what she needed to oversee.

Watching it all, watching how much damage there was to the sides, watching the small robots never used, Cassandra couldn't help but feel like her life had walked off its intended path. So much had been planned, so many aspirations. She was fine with what she had right now, yes, but that didn't mean she didn't also want something more.

And that more wouldn't be achieved with what she was doing now, sitting on her ass inside the car, watching small robots shovelling ice into their small buckets. Who even thought it was a good idea to make them such a small size?

Each individual robot would have a hard time carrying more than five litres of ice, being the sole reason why there were nearly a thousand of the things running around the road. They were extremely useless alone, only their numbers making it possible to get as much idea away at their current speeds. If it had been a single robot, it would have taken longer than Cassandra’s life expectancy. Or maybe summer would have come around before it even starting scratching more than the surface of the place.

No way to know. Cassandra just knew that she hated the scene to her core. There had been a desire to help them out, taking out the larger pieces herself. It would make great news to see an officer hard at work, doing their best in the harder situations put on them.

Because she really did need to look good in the eyes of the public. It was becoming more and more obvious that she would get her name in the newspapers no matter what she did. While that was inherently bad in itself, due to the attention her superiors would get on her, it would be even worse if the news surrounding her was negative. Positive news could garner the hate of the higher-ranked officers, yet negative news would bring the ire of the public. When it came to the superficial parts of society, the latter was the most devastating. It took one wrong picture to make her life a living hell.

And if that picture was her sitting in a car, while she watched an automation and an army of robots taking care of the mess she was partly responsible for? Well… there wasn't actually anything good that could come out of that. This was why it was so great that the police had one tool in their hands that so few ever took seriously.

The force had the option of making certain plays unrecordable. With the help of a few poles in constant sight, the brain implant in the people’s head would refuse to record anything heard, said, or seen within a specific area. The use of the tool was heavily regulated, making it near-impossible to use for corrupted purposes.

For there were loopholes in it. The tool could ignore its orders and allow anybody to record no matter what if certain conditions were met. One of the easier conditions that allowed for limited forms of recording was the journalist badge, a digital addition to people’s identification tags that would allow for more rights than the average civilian. These people were trusted to behave for the good of the country, only recording that which needed to be put out to the public. Cassandra didn't like the wording on that, knowing exactly what it had the possibility of meaning.

Yet that wasn't the only way to allow recording. If any civilian experienced higher levels of stress, increased heart-beat or was hit in such a way that it created a larger amount of endorphins, the brain-implant would automatically begin recording everything, no matter what. Those near the person would also record anything close to them, as a way of deterring any would-be criminals from taking their chances during apparent digital blackouts. If any danger was encountered, the tool was impossible to use.

Some had actually tried to use that loophole before, running laps around a crime scene so that they could get a few good shots of the place. There were many different kinds of motivation for such a thing, but most of the people doing such things were simply out for the monetary gifts that could be gained from such acts.

When the media had to waste hours on driving to get to the spot, with news of the situation already hitting social media, much money would be splurged on the rights to any pictures or videos of the situation.

And when Cassandra operated in areas where the average household had less than desired, in terms of income, there were people who likely desired pictures of the place more than others.

That had been one of the points where the woman could have shown her strong suit. During their drive over to the place, a few people had actually gathered around and close to the road, some going so far as to go in and look around. That, as was very obvious from just the look of the place, was not okay in any reasonable way, and people should have realised that.

Yet they hadn't, making it a requirement to make the crowd disperse into the city as quickly as possible. Cassandra would have been perfect for that task, having trained in just that skill for years on end. If there was anything she was truly at the top at, it would be her skillfulness in swaying the public, be that in smaller or bigger groups.

Not that Jules had even let her step out of the car, locking the door remotely when she tried to leave no matter what the damn thing had said. The automation was apparently adamant about it being the only one of the two need to leave the vehicle and had taken measures to make sure that would happen.

Cassandra had been pretty angry about that, not liking it one bit. She had been forced to endure, watching the automation do a job that had been intended for her. It had gotten close to violent at a few points, reaching the point where the woman had been scared by the chance of fists starting to fly. It never did reach that point, though, only getting very close to it. It was always stopped, either by others intervening or by the automation giving the person a blank stare.

The woman did wonder if people had a phobia of constructs. Their appearance was very human, but there were key differences that set them apart. Nothing serious, of course. It was only enough for the eyes to just notice it, creating an effect much like an uncanny valley. When one mixed that in with the fact that the automation was able to remove all emotion from their face and body, people were very quick to become very distracted, many suddenly having a need to get home and brew some tea for themselves.

That was one thing that amused her, at the very least. It got the people away from the site without ever stressing them enough to allow for any filming of any kind. It meant that the woman didn't need to be seen in her car, watching it all from relative safety. Not that she wanted to be in that net of safety but it was something.

And when she finally did get something new, something that forced the woman out of the car, it wasn't due to something related to the road. Nor was it due to the robots scuttling on the floor beside.

No… it was due to an automation that suddenly stopped in its tracks, before laughing like a crazy maniac. Cassandra had to go out and take care of the last witnesses at that point, before bringing the laughing construct into the car.

“Just what kind of name is that supposed to be?” the automation shouted. Cassandra could only worry that something had popped inside the things head.