I'm a Cyborg's Pet (girl X cyborg)

Chapter 5/ 1066 and all that

A/N Warning: the people seen kicking this robot were 'recycled' under general order 9 after the robot apocalypse

20 seconds into the future /Slave systems Inc/Factory 7:: Area formally known as Aspen Colorado

Jenny's POV.

"I guess you don't go out much?" said the girl called 1066 as I walked slowly along. Actually, I don't know what the fuss was about, I was walking fine and these high heels it didn't feel that uncomfortable.

"High heels aren't a requirement about the science lab yet. " I said glad that Tim Hunt wasn't teaching at Cal Tech, 

"Anyway, I'm Jenny" I said holding my hand out. 

The girl looked slightly confused "You're supposed to use your ID number. There is a central computer called a PRISM which listens to everything you say and should punish you for using your old names. Weird I thought you would be punished for that. I guess it's not up and running yet. I'm...I'm Kayla." she said looking like the sky was about to fall in, and it didn't.

"I haven't gone by that name for a long while. That's weird I've been through the whole six week cycle and I never knew we could speak each other's names before" said Kayla. "I guess if you don't use them in front of the machines you're okay."

"Wonderful trust machines to micromanage their oppression," I said. This time I got a slight buzz on my collar. I think Kayla spotted it and changed the subject. 

Kayla looked a the printout she had been given by the nurse. "5642 hey you're Bank of America like me, to the machines we are like sisters" she added.

"I thought the nurse woman said you were 'recycled'," I asked.

"It's a nice way of saying I'm a return," said Kayla.

"A return?"

"They offer a full no quibble return guarantee on e-slaves here. You get some robot arses who bid on more than one of us and then just send back the ones they don't like, once we're delivered. So I'm shipped all the way to Washington 2.0 walked around this massive collaborators house after an hour told I don't match the decor and then shipped all the way back. So I have to go through the training program again then get resold." said Kayla.

I was a little disturbed they 'refurbished' people here to be resold. Actually this was what they were doing to me.

"There must be some mistake I'm not an e-slave." I said.

"No you're not - but you will be. That's what this place is designed to do to you," said Kayla.

Wonderful, I thought, I'm in rehab for people who have a freedom dependency problem.

"Welcome to Factory 7: the Aspen re-education facility your gateway to a new life," said a sign.

I looked around the corridor. It was full of posters like "DON'T STOP WHEN YOU ARE TIRED. STOP WHEN YOU ARE PUNISHED FOR A JOB WELL DONE","THERE IS NO 'I' IN SLAVE", "KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON" and "PERSONALLY I WELCOME MY NEW ROBOT OVERLORDS" all presented with pictures of cute cats. Walking up and down the corridor were people dressed exactly like Kayla and myself. It was like I was trapped in some vast cos-play convention whose theme was 'come as your vision of cat woman' and we all had the same idea. All the men had similar tight shiny suits and kept walking their knees tied together like massive penguins. Their eyebrows seemed to be squared off and they all had exactly the same crew cut haircut. At least I felt a bit less self-conscious about the smut-girl makeover they had press-ganged on me.

"Why do they dress us with all, in the same wholesome style of Beau Garrett in Tron?" I asked fearing the answer. Just my luck, when wet look leggings were finally going out of style the machines made them mandatory.