I AM A GIRL CYOBORG PET

by ROUNAK PURI

  'Why on earth would the collaborators do that? I mean they are people too' I texted.

  'To please the AI's. Fewer humans means no opportunity for a slave uprising, they think if they look tough on slaves it will send out a message to the slaves to knuckle down, plus brain washed and aromatherapy-ised slaves will be easier to manage, and much cheaper to feed if a third of the protein comes from animal poop. ' Rockwood texted, while being eyed up by the mall rat outside Neiman Marcus.

  'They are sending humanity a message by killing 4 billion of them? What ever happened to say it with flowers' I texted back.

  'Perhaps Interflora doesn't have a flower that says don't mess with us, if you even think about going Spartacus to us, and we will go so mediaeval on your slaves a$$es '7

  'Strange omission from the flower meaning dictionary' I pointed out musing on the plural of 'ass'.

  'It's weird isn't it? The people who say things like 'we've got to send them a message' are typically the same people that can never answer the question 'what messages through the medium of doing things have you ever received that you are sure was the message the original sender intended'?5

  Rockwood handed me his drink, for the first time since I was not on oblivion I was happy to do this service for him. I know what your thinking too, in these shoes it would be so easy to trip, fall and launch the contents, at first, slave owner I passed. It's not like these slinky slave outfits aren't in wipe free silicon for nothing. It is to my shame then, that I was slightly too happy to think of this and slightly to unlucky not to pass someone. I went back to trying to concentrate on being an e-slave. I now had a simple exit strategy get to the boat house at midnight. Make sure I didn't have military high heels on. No matter how absurd or uncomfortable, I had to get a pair of shoes from Chanel. Yeah, you're probably thinking the same I am, a year in slavery, and she's sounding like a valley girl already, what a loss to science how is she going to get her Pulitzer and Noble prizes now?3

  ****

  6

  We carried on up to Chanel. It had also just opened for Rockwood, well me. Mr Jones and I had an entire shop, and it's slaves at our disposal. I started2

  'I can't believe you opened the shop just for me' I texted. It was a nice gesture.

  'I didn't' Rockwood texted back 'I did it for Mr Jones, I'm not having anyone trampling his sketches. That and the collaborators fear and dislike the robots. I wouldn't want Mr Jones inconvenienced by shoppers leaving the shop screaming in terror'2

  'Oh' I texted back. Then sensed he was probably lying.

  'You are the first living human he's dressed he actually likes' Rockwood texted.4

  'Really?'

  'For the collaborators, he normally uses fabric that has some really funny message but only visible in the part of the invisible light spectrum only robots can see. His last one said. 'this collaborator is stupid enough to trip over a cordless phone'' Rockwood texted.

  'LOL' I said. 'What did it say on Zola's last dress'

  'Nothing, a cyborg can read the insults as well as any robot ;-( ' he said15

  We entered the shop I look around, apart from some well-lit empty shelves and a blank floor the shop seemed completely empty .1

  'Do you think we should come back when they have something to sell?' I texted Rockwood.

  I have been thrown out of some minimal shops in my time, but this place won outright winner. This place made an Apple Store look piled high with junk. It was stylishly empty. Honesty Victoria Beckham has had more thoughts than this place had products and this place had a shoe count of 4 four and that was only because we hadn't come into the shop bare foot.3

  An invisible door opened, and a slave girl assistant walked out.

  'Hi #160A my name is Excuse-me-miss' said the slave shop girl. I read her collar to make sure I had heard her correctly. Yes, she, the second girl and third girl that came out was also called 'Excuse-me-miss'. They knelt before Rockwood, and Mr Jones then got up and spoke.2

  'Welcome to Chanel, I am here to ensure you have a wonderful pedimentary experience' they all said in perfect unison.

  'This is weird.' I texted Rockwood. 'do you think they know the shop has been raided, and the collar won't let them stop the act?'

  "Mind if I called you Emm?" said Rockwood to Excuse-me-miss. Excuse-me-miss looked up.

  "You're not supposed to use my old..." she began.3

  "It's an abbreviation for 'E'xcuse 'M'e 'M'iss, E.M.M. Emm." explained Rockwood. Slave masters could call you want you wanted. If they got your names confused you went along and didn't contradict them.A slave owner like a customer is never wrong. If he wanted to call her Emm he could.

  "Err ... that would be perfectly acceptable Master" said Emm/Excuse-me-miss.

  "Lord" corrected Rockwood

  'Sorry, couldn't resist' Rockwood texted.1

  'Was that her real name?' I texted back in surprise.

  "Flatten those eye brows, I can't have my companion mammals slouching," said Rockwood to me in a tone almost vexed, I knew he was faking the strict Lord in public.1

  "So Emm, do you actually have any shoes?" I said.

  "How dare you, speak without an order" said Rockwood giving me a level 1 bolt for show. I pretended to be in more pain more than I was and shut up. 1

  "Truculent pets are so the in thing. So Emm, do you actually have any shoes?" he said

  "No need to apologise Lord. I'm a human slave and don't have any proper feelings to hurt. Here are some of our shoes" said Excuse-me-miss pointing at the glass skirting. I looked around and realised around the bottom of the shop ran a ring of mirrors set up so you could look down and see you own feet. I did a quick double take then I realised that the shoes I could see in the mirrors were not the shoes I was wearing. I guess the mirrors were actually screens that added images of shoes on top of my feet. Different mirrors added different shoes, so I was currently looking at about eight pairs of shoes.3

  "Oh these I find are most appropriate," said Mr Jones pointing at a pair to my right.1

  As pairs were identified others appeared on the screens. Soon one of the Excuse-me-miss girls appeared wearing a pair of the identified shoes. As they walked the grey carpet light up following the girl indicating information about the shoes. It looked like the shop floor was like the 'smart' red-carpet at Stellavista. As new shoes came out, they would walk in with a previous pair and place them in well lit shelves.

  While they walked Mr Jones kept altering my dress design to see if it fitted in with different shoes."What are these?" said Rockwood pointing to a pair.

  Emm began "Lord, these are Designer shoes which means you just purchase the design for your shoe printer. If that be pleasing you."

  "And these" said Rockwood pointing with his toe to a green circle which surrounded Emm's shoes.

  "These are open source - also for printers but you may alter the design" said Emm. Ok, this is strange as I was most fascinated with the laces and zips. Emm offered the possibility of changing the colour/texture/material combinations and as she talked the reflection in the mirror changed.

  "These are artisan shoes," said another Excuse-me-miss shop assistant walking in "they are most like the shoes in the old days. While the design cannot be adjusted designed around your foot shape and bone structure, they can use materials that are unavailable to be printed with. The artisan shoes with a blue follow marker are lovingly hand crafted by highly trained slaves. I realised the shoes could now be made with slave labour and not even bother to go out of America (sorry Mr Smarty Pants) to hide the fact.4

  This pair Jimmy Choo Leondra sandals with a 120mm [ 4.7″] stiletto heel" said Emm while modelling the shoes.4

  The carpet filled with information about which celebrity had worn these shoes to this show or that opening. My eyes were drawn to the simple buckle. Removable shoes what a luxury! I translated the price on the carpet into old money and wondered if I had the right number of decimal points. Those shoes alone were worth a year of my old student fees. Rockwoo
d saw Mr Jones approve and sent me into he slave area - it had a specialised slave shoe removal machine. It felt really really unnatural walking on bare feet. I both liked it but suddenly felt really small and weirdly less important. I was so used to high heels my feet found bare floor uncomfortable, and I wobbled loosing my balance. It also felt oddly illicit - technically I could be arrested and sent to the KCK machine for a few weeks and my owner fined for such a breach of the machine laws on female slaves not wearing high heels. I got to try the Leondra sandals on and walk around in them (relief). It was odd I realised that although I wore 'new' shoes every day they were printed around my foot shape so always fitted perfect so I never noticed. Badly fitting shoes as the new luxury. 2

  I walked up to the mirror. Shop mirrors were actually screens, when you moved rapidly, they would capture the image and hold it long enough for you to look back. This way you could see what you looked like from behind or the side or while walking. As more Excuse-me-miss slave girls came out, the carpet would draw pictures of shoes or draw lines to other shoes with the words ' people who had purchased this also bought these'. I looked down on a pair of Paul Andrew Zenadia Suede Pumps which Mr Jones really liked.

  "No," said Rockwood firmly.

  "But sugar these are wonderful," said Mr Jones in their defence. There was something about the way he stood which suggested the very essence of a stick man perplexed.4

  "Zolar has a pair" said Rockwood pointing to the information cloud around my right foot. There was an image of Zola on the carpet next to General Bitmarck at the 'oppressor of the year' awards. She worked for a charity called 'The Automatic Society for the Promotion of Cruelty to Slaves'. "I'm not trying to turn her into another Zola. I hired you, Mr Jones because you're the best, and that's want I wanted, but I draw the line there. She is who she is the choices should reflect her and her alone. Oh and nothing Just-read-the-instructions wore either. "3

  There was a moment of silence at this outburst. The Excuse-me-miss girls all slightly broke that weird model look of complete disinterest. I could tell they were silently freaked out. Human owners would be badly rebuked for showing this kind of attachment for personal slaves. You could dress a slave up in private ( you could do anything in private, and the robots frequently did ) but this level of admitting they were a real person was not something polite people did in public.

  We continued as if nothing happened. It only took one pair of new shoes to get Mr Jones back into his party mood. While we continued, Emm managed to lean over to me and whispered, "you'll be in flats by next year". 3

  She meant I would be a mistress set up in my own mansion with my own slaves. Visited when Rockwood could swing the permission into Judas City. If anyone could break the law and get me elevated to be a collaborator he could. I found I hated flats with vile contempt I normally reserved for those who looked down on me for reading to much. Some of the Excuse-me-miss girls had modelled flats, possibly some of the few slaves in the New Mechanical Order to wear them. For the citizens of Judas City flats showed you hat sold out your species and so deserved be bowed down to. I couldn't look at flat without my stomach tightening. Flats that so wasn't an option.7

  Rockwood waved at each of the expensive shoes Mr Jones asked for. I left with some Jimmy Choo's with a 4.7 heel for just walking around the house in. A pair of Forzieri pumps because they were there, some Giuseppe Zanotti Design high heels which worked with Mr Jone's designs. Some Christian Louboutin shoes because they came with a nice handbag and a pair of YSL Saint Laurent ankle boots. Again I ended up bowing to the credit card machine to pay for them all. Did I feel guilty about draining a couple of cars worth of money from his account? Not at all. I don't know who had more fun buying the shoes myself or Mr Jones. Through out this Rockwood hardly moved his eyes from me.1

  'OMG your trying to turn me into Christina Aguilera, Khloe Kardashian and Imelda Marcos combined' I texted Rockwood as we left followed by snake of 12 e-slaves carrying my stuff to the self-driving car and a cyber taxi Rockwood had to hire.1

  'Such an ugly image will take a huge amount to get out of my mind and This coming from the girl who hasn't worn the same pair of shoes twice since she was captured' Rockwood texted back.

  I guess he was right, the machine did print new shoes on me every day .

  'I AM Christina Aguilera, Khloe Kardashian and Imelda Marcos mutantly combined in Laboratoire Garnier! As if! The new mechanical order has turned me into valley girl, and I hadn't noticed NOOOOOOOO. What ever'.

  'You thought all that time running around like Trinity in the Matrix at slave school wouldn't have an effect on you' Rockwood texted back.

  'You mean I can fly a helicopter and have marvellous ninja kung fu fighting moves?' I texted.

  'Something like that' Rockwood texted back,

  'hmmm Laboratoire Garnier... do you think if they accidentally found the cure for cancer while looking for the next skin cream they would have to throw it out and start again?' I texted.

  'Under human control undoubtedly. I'll try that with the rebranding folks they are looking for 100 reasons why life under human control was over-rated. It's a sequel to the book top 100 reasons for slaves to love our robot overlords sorry robot super-friends'

  'Sounds like the ideal Christmas present for every slave in your life. So what was the number 1 reason to love our robot overlords' I texted.

  'Well there top four in reverse order were; end of war, end of hunger, cure of cancer and no more balls of matted hair found caught down the plug hole' texted Rockwood.3

  'I take it that a machine is in charge of this process' I texted.

  'how did you guess?'

  At the external entrance to the mall we left Mr Jones. He air kissed me and told my collar to make me lose five pounds before the ball it was only a few days away. Terrific that meant an hour in the exercise machine being bored out of my mind again. He looked up and a delivery drone appeared out of the sky. He just held onto the drone and took off leaving a confetti of drawings falling from the sky. I picked one up it had a picture of one of the huge skyscrapers wrapped in a fabulous dress. Despite being the girliest machine, I had ever met I was going to miss that robot.5

  I would miss him but not for that long. I was a slave, after all, I had to end every sentence in public to Rockwood with 'master' and despite what all the slave girl magazines told you, that wasn't a basis for an equal relationship. Who cared? I could escape, finally freedom, proper freedom and with the chance to help the resistance, whoever they were. How could I ever live with Rockwood? Take little Jenny up, become a cyborg? Walk around with a whip, pain remote control and ballerina flats. I guess we would need an extension to Rockwood Hall to hold my 'brain' there was a patch of garden that was spare. I would just have to watch hundreds of slaves be drained of their blood to feed my huge mind. A mind partly filled with perverted ideas from the dark side of the internet. I would look on people like ants, tiny stupid things I would need to control and punish. Would I be the same girl Rockwood liked, would he still want me around? Would I want to be around our would I prefer to behave like a cyborg of the 21st century like Zola?1

  I looked at him, could I spend an eternity with this guy? My heart was a quick 'sure no' problem, but the rest of me was 'I don't share well', and that harem of his was a huge obstacle. This wasn't an easy problem I needed to talk to someone. Fortunately, when I got back to the home wifi I had a very nice invitation.10

  ****

  Chapter 71/Him/Should I stay or should I go?

  It was a few days to go to the big Opening . I went down to the hospital wing technically called the repair shop for lunch with my little heroin Kayla. Visitors were allowed in during the feeding hour and the snow white robots running the place said this was alright to see her and have lunch. I was issued with some lovely faihetas, nice bread, beetroot salad, brow rice with soy dressing and kiwi fruit. Kayla had some garlic humus with strange crispy things which smelt lovely.4

  Kayla was sitting in her hentai style re
pair-pod, like a girl sitting in the middle of a huge easter egg. There was a massive closed egg next to her.

  "What's that do?" I asked pointing at the closed pod with my fork.

  "Oh that's 7091" Kayla said "he's in suspended animation. He's on ice while they print a new liver for him. I was frozen for a few days when I arrived. I think they just do it to let the Doctor Robots work nine to five and still have time to go robot golfing."

  "What was it like? The being frozen like a chicken, not robot golf " I said, pushing some lima beans round the plate and wondering if I could be bothered to get a knife.

  "I don't really remember. Less worse than going on a short vacation with you" said Kayla. If Kayla had been dead and was now alive did that make her a zombie or something? Her lack of suffering made me feel less guilty about the chicken I had left in the freezer back home.

  "SLAVES ARE REMINDED IT IS ONLY THREE DAYS TO GO TO 'HOW CAN I BE MORE SUBSERVIENT TO MASTER DAY'. THIS ANNUAL TRADITION WHICH IS STARTING THIS WEEK GETS SLAVES AROUND THE WORLD TO SUBMIT IDEAS TO THEIR OVERSEER ON NEW WAYS THAT THEY CAN IMPROVE THEIR SERVICE TO THEIR MASTER. IT COULD BE A NEW PUNISHMENT OR A NEW RULE TO LEARN. CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ? DON'T WORRY WHY NOT JUST INFORM ON A CLOSE FRIEND OR LOVE ONE? ALLS FAIR ON BE MORE SUBSERVIENT TO MASTER DAY. THANK YOU" said the house PRISM announcement system.

  "Who's the girl on the far bed what's wrong with her?" I asked making random conversation between mouthfuls of beetroot salad with a nice chilli vinaigrette dressing. Apart from being tied to the bed she looked healthy.

  "1776?" Kayla looking over "Oh nothing, she's pregnant. It does happen apparently, the slave sterilisation device they stuffed in you like all forms of contraception isn't perfect. Life will find a way and all that. She and the father of being shipped out when the baby is born. Rockwood owns some artificial islands off the East coast. Ex house slaves are sent there, she will be able to raise their kids there. "8