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

Chapter 21/Scale and Proportion

A/N - Wow #45 in SciFi hot with only 1200 reads - you readers rock. What ever it is: keep doing it and don't stop. Photo - Architect Corbusier's le modulor system. Who says we aren't education-ish like?

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

Jenny's POV

"Cortona, where did I put my pelvic toner?" I asked my collar, I was in a hurry for a class. We had been issued with a few more personal items and I will admit that the collar was a fantastic way to keep track of things. I never had to remember where anything was.

"It's on the bunk beneath you, to the left, <beep>," said my collar.

The girls had been issued pelvic toners, like we were a bunch of new mums.  The mechanical beasts counted our kegels and ratted us out to the machines and even posted our progress to our profiles. Just when you thought the world was completely dystopian, the machines found ways of making it worse.  Word on the street was that adherence to proscribed routines and regimes was seen as positive e-Slave material. This had led to a burst of fury at the profiles, which would leave poor Joe still in the starting blocks. So Kayla and I 'borrowed' Joe's and worked up some points up for him (they were cheat-proof: we checked). I could now kegel for the Olympics. My collar reminded me that I had to leave to get to the class on time.  

As I walked out, I passed 12-20 coming in to the slave-cages.

"Succubus," I said without looking at her.

"Bitch," she said back, behind me.

It was what passed for greetings these days at the Factory, but she was still in with '88 which was good. Perhaps I should be in with '88 but I'm never smart enough to be that political.

"Cortona, how far to the class?" I asked my collar.

"832.2 meters, <beep>," my collar said. The collars were counting steps and encoraging us to do more. This was also something I was having to adapt to. Our evil robot overlords had introduced the 'ydooby' metric system to America. Typical of Robots to get rid of a system based on the human body and replace it with something well, you know, French. I mean I can just imagine some New Mechanical Order council sitting in some dark malevolent hole, plotting and planning the overthrow of mankind. I could imagine them sitting there:

"So," says the Central Processing Unit computer at the head of the table," How else can we make the Americans suffer?"

"I know," says some evil, violet-eyed Cyborg, crushing his drink in his crab-claw hand, "Why don't we force them use the metric system?"

This is followed by large amount of maniacal, machine, evil, laughter. 

The Head Evil Central Processing Unit computer somehow nods, without a head, "Yes, that way they won't know how 'big' or 'far away' anything is. Not only that, they won't guess how much weight they've lost by eating all that healthy crap that we force them to eat," it says gleefully.

"But let's force the Americans to use the English dress size system," says a third, foul computer.

The Robot Council, all sixteen of them, turns and looks at the third, foul computer, blinking a tiny red LED in the most depraved way that a tiny red LED can be blinked.

"What? Says the Head Evil Central Processing Unit computer, looking at the third foul computer.

"American dress Size 0 is English dress size 4. If we get them to use English dress sizes, suddenly all the hyper-vain, size-zero, super model wannabes will feel fat and bloated. It will be a kind of massive, reverse vanity-sizing," says the third, foul computer to the appreciative, sinister smiles of the Robot Council.

"A good pernicious addition to the metric plan. Do it, third, foul computer. Oh how the Americans will wail and gnash their teeth. Go to the top of the council's pecking order for that."

"I'm already at the top of the council's pecking order," says the third, foul computer.

"Well, go to the bottom and we will all be a lap behind," said the evil, violet-eyed Cyborg.

"What shall we do in Europe?" says a tiny, but evil, computer rack, blinking furiously.

"Perhaps we should force them to use Le Corbusier's Modular System," suggests another Cyborg who is little more than a brain-in-a-tank, with fish swimming around it.

832.2 meters later, I arrived at the Reproductive Biology class, and joined Kayla and Joe.

"Have you heard the news?" Joe whispered, before the class had started.

My mind raced, had 90-59 got new shoes? Had 12-44 changed lipstick colour? Had my price gone up?

"New recruits are in: apparently Los Angeles has fallen," Joe said.

I was dumbstruck. Partly because the instructor was using the slave mute button at the beginning of the class, but partly because it was hard to imagine a fortress like Los Angeles falling to the machines. Wow. Perhaps humanity was really fucked? Perhaps Lord Rockwood was my best option? I mean, I had always expected to eventually get to some human enclave and L.A had been one. How could I be sure of finding somewhere to go when I got out? On the other hand, was being a machine's pet so bad? So far, I had taken everything they had thrown at me and flung it back. They had fed me, clothed me and I was able to concentrate on the minutiae of existence - the right big girl shoes, the right outward presentation. Outside was starvation, cold weather, hiding from drones, little sleep, smelling like a used sheep, thinking that the next small cut could go septic and all with only the tenuous knowledge you 'have' some abstract concept of 'freedom'. The outside was getting to be a worse memory, and worse option, with every day. I hadn't had nightmares about life outside in weeks. I wanted to ask my collar how long it had been since I had one.

"Head up straighter, by 4 degrees. Winners don't slouch, <beep>!" Cortona whispered to me. I moved ever so slightly to correct myself. I was slouching and that wasn't a good sign. I hadn't been warned about my posture in over a week. What was happening to me? 

*****

A/N - Will they get enough votes to get 12-20 to tell them more about Lord Rockwood? Speaking of votes, even adding this to your collections will help spread the word. Thanks!  RK.