That's so valid! He looks and is secure but it's fine to be more cautious than that.

Two more security people show up pretty promptly. These one have serious-looking guns instead of the first guy's taser.

"We'll take custody from here. How would you like the wanted reward distributed?"

"Can you give us cash?"

"Let me scan your ID, and I can give you an incident slip to be exchanged for cash at a proper security station."

Kaia nods and hands over a plastic card. The security guys have pocket scanner/printer devices on their belts for these slips apparently. A little business card is handed back.

"Thanks, by the way. This guy's a menace. Have a nice day."

"You too!"

"I figure it's your money," Kaia says. "You can get a lot more pawning stuff around but, uh, that might actually be a little scummy in a way, it'll fuck up the markets something fierce, the first people to buy before prices drop will get relatively screwed, I guess."

"That's true of commodities but I would generally not worry about it for, like, scrap metal or musical instruments."

"Scrap metal is a commodity? I mean most everything is a commodity. Materials like scrap and wire and printer plastic are pretty low margin though." She has to know these things because she's a scavenger for a living. "Yeah, dumping scrap and various bits of hardware on workshops and repair services would work. Sprinkling the Dumping Grounds with all sorts of miscellaneous stuff would be a pretty decent method of charity on top of the charity clinic and food bank visits. Pretty much the most desperate pick through the trash there. Community sourced recycling. You don't need money yet, I think."

"I mean a commodity in the like, stock market sense, more. I do not need money, but I might eventually find something I need to pay for so it does make sense to be thinking about."

"Huh. 'Kay, hospital now?"

"Sure!"

The station has this huge open vertical slot area! You can see the curve, here. There's a public tram. Kaia pays 4 credits to get them on it. Everyone looks tired and mind-their-own-business-y. There's all sorts, including an armed guy in black carefully watching everyone and guarding an orange crate like a mother hen.

They pass the Dumping Grounds, a huge pile of, just, trash of all sorts. A handful of people are in there picking it over.

They pass a slightly more commercial nexus, a place with more open space and better lights, a vague attempt at plastic greenery, and a few facades with actual architecture- A fish restaurant with a large fish tank for a front wall giving a peek inside the place, a phone store, 'Solana Biogenics', and a clothes shop, among others.

Then they get to their stop. Lower Levels General Hospital is close by- There's a big sign. The line is out the door. Kaia is flagging and suffering a bit from her drug situation still, but trying to power through. She has them duck into a side niche.

"I think it'll go better if we walk in with a box of stuff to donate clearly visible." Here she digs through her backpack again. "Oxymore injectors, I don't have any of those but they're standard, by Carmichael Pharmaceutical. These," A blue bandage still in plastic wrap, "Hemostatic bandages." A plastic blood pack with a standardized fill slot. "O-negative blood packs. I guess actual docs will know what they need more but I really doubt any of those will go unused."

Cam makes a plastic box and fills it up with some of all of those things.

The orderlies running triage and paperwork out front are delighted by the donation and hand it off to go be added to stocks. One of them recognizes Kaia and asks if she's sure they can afford to donate this, they know she's not doing great-

"I could use someone to check me out, actually, I've got - uh, shit, at least three tabs of Fanta in me? I took a Naloxgone for it. Long story."

"-Okay yeah you're, that sounds right based on how you look. And we can let you skip the line, overdose is pretty serious and it's policy to do that for paying or donating patients besides. Who's your buddy?"

"Cam, he's got more stuff. Why don't we, uh, go talk about it?"

"I'd like a word once she's out of danger, yeah."

They're shuffled to a shabby exam room. They glare at Cam just a tad until Kaia says Cam can be present for the exam, he's not done anything.

(A minute later, she shows him a tiny little business card saying that she could say she needs to go to the bathroom and get out the back exit if she needs to, resources are available for dealing with abusive life situations, with a bit of dark amusement.)

A nurse does a brief quiz and physical exam instant bloodwork on her with a white tablet-type device. She pronounces a drug name and a dose and writes an order to have it fetched, and advises rest and nutrition and hydration. 

"I'm concerned about physical withdrawl symptoms," Kaia says, "Would a Synaprest injection help with those?"

"Not necessarily the acute symptoms. Synaprest is designed to address psychological withdrawal, a more long term concern. The Mosanatin will help you with the acute withdrawal and also with the heavy metal in your system that I must presume comes from either drinking Ghostwater, or contaminants in the Fanta pills. I'm told you wanted to have a word about your generous donation too?"

"Yeah," Cam materializes another O-neg pack, "where do you want more of those?"

"Huh."

The nurse stares blankly at it, then takes it and lets out a tiny droplet onto her scan pad thing from the standard nib designed for that.

"Huh. Actually- Well, we'll never have too much blood, but we could particularly use about a hundred liters of sterilization alcohol, new scrubs, surgical kit-" Four different medications she lists off. "...Fully charged power cells, too," she adds after some thought.

"You got it. Where?"

She jogs to a supply room, calling out instructions to two people on the way.

"Here! It's not my job to question where the supply comes from, it's my job to help people with it, but being able to be less stingy will be nice. I can have a more complete list in about ten minutes, what I told you is just the things we're always short of."

"Is there any organizational system here or should it just pile up kinda wherever?"

"Blood in this storage bay, bandages-" Two brand names, "Here," a different bay, and so on and so forth, with smaller cabinets for pill storage. The scrubs and power cells will be going in a different closet.

Another person is peering in. "Hold on, what's all this, where's it coming from?"

"Nowhere, it's new." Blood. Bandages. Pills. Scrubs. Batteries.

The batteries are big chunky things the size of a pop can, a bit bigger actually, with bright green indicator bars.

"New? Like, fresh from the factory and you've got... Some kinda supertech dimensional storage or something? That's a thing, right?"

"Not like this, it's boxes that are bigger on the inside, not teleporting things in."

"No factories were" harmed "employed."