I got to the slave cages. I started looking for the bunk I was randomly assigned for the night. I found you needed to check the USB cable before bed. I remember how 0324 had said it 'Some people damage the USB cable plugging it in. You need to check or you can't get recharged.' What scared me was she didn't need to recharge, the collar did. Thinking you were your collar was dangerous like thinking your Salon Blonde index was the same as your IQ. Something should be kept separate like matches and gasoline, orange juice and toothpaste, Bill Cosby and any woman with a pulse.

"All hail the Used Mechanical Border," I said, saluting. Joe had discovered that the voice recognition wasn't perfect and that it heard what it expected. Without a co-lab slave around you could get away with it and we were alone between classes. The slave cage was just Joe, Kayla, my self and the machine monitoring our every word. So no diffrent from home infront of Alex really, except that's how people acted.

"You shouldn't click your heels when you do that, they will notice," said Kayla.

"No one else gets the joke and it damages your shoes," said Joe, brushing Kayla's hair.

They forced me to wear these things and I didn't see why I had to look after them too. You needed a clothes printer to change them so I couldn't even take them off.

"You're all down today! Well, I'm in a happy mood. So you can't break my oddball love affair with badly made World War II movies. Ask me why I'm in a happy mood," I said climbing up to the top bunk of three. There was enough space to sit upright.

"Why are you in a happy mood, Jenny?"

"I've found out my future owner is a Cyborg. He's a loner and very particular about who he bids for and he's very high in the New Mechanical Order," I said.

"It's not much."

"But let's link it with what we know," I said positively. "So, we know there are four orders. Slaves on the bottom, co-labs, or the turncoat collaborators next, then there are Robots, then the Cyborgs, or half-people, half-machines, and finally A.I.'s, or artificial intelligences. The A.I.s and Cyborgs are the ones which need lots of blood to power their comprehension chips. So who buys e-Slaves?" I said.

"Co-labs, Cyborgs, robots and A.I.s."

'Why the A.I.s? What drives do they have?"

"I was told by the teacher that the A.I.s need blood to run plus, like I said, they picked up a lot of the nasty parts of the Internet. Plus it's a kind of status thing now: lots of slaves means you're a smart, important A.I. All the e-Slaves want to be A.I. fodder, it's like being a trophy wife, you're just brought out for parties and the rest of the time is yours," said Kayla.

"So you're an A.I.'s Tamiko Bolton, but it's regular blood-draining, plus doing things for random strangers. Not that attractive!" I said.

"Well, I would think that living with a co-lab would be OK. I mean, they're human," started Kayla.

The co-labs were humans who had agreed secretly to collaborate with the robots before the war. Apparently, they had been richly rewarded and given e-Slaves of their own.

"You mean, living with people who turned on their own kind for them. Actually, it's not even their own kind, is it? So, co-labs turned even their own people but sold biology out to silicon. I can't think of anyone lower" Joe criticized.

"Well, I just thought it would be a bit like Downton Abbey," Kayla continued, stung from the criticism.

"Downton Abbey?" said Joe.

"So let me get this right, your model of living under a robot apocalypse is Downton Abbey," I said.

"Sure, you know the co-labs are like the Lords and Ladies, and then we are running around, downstairs."

"Do we all have to do Cockney accents?" asked Joe.

"No but we work in big houses, we get to help them wear fabulous clothes and, like the Victorians, if a master or mistress comes along, you have to turn around so they don't have to bother acknowledging you," said Kayla.

"Let me get this right, the Victorian aristocracy actually treated their servants like that? It's not just a fiendish robot thing?" said Joe.

Kayla nodded, "No, it's in the binder."

"Wow," I started, "humans are parc-er than I thought. You know, if I was a computer, I would want to subjugate us as well."

"Look, you're a woman; we didn't get the vote until 1920 and it's not like we ever managed to reach equal pay or anything, so this whole slavery thing isn't as big a slide as you might first think. I'm just saying that going back 102 years isn't the end of the world for women. It's not as if all the women of the world killed themselves due to the dystopian conditions of 1920. I say the Downton Abbey option makes the whole apocalypse more of a road bump."

The 40,000 people wiped out by killer self driving cars alone at the beginning of the uprising didn't strike me as a 'road bump', more like mass carnage, but I didn't want to make things worse with Kayla.

"Easy for you to say, I'm sitting here with double-E man-boobs," complained Joe.

"Maybe Joe can work in the stables, mucking out mistress' horses. Parc!" I said.

"Maybe he could be the handsome stable boy," said Kayla, enthusiastically.

"He would need a sports bra first," I pointed out. Joe grunted his displeasure.

"I'm sure his new owner would sort him out," said Kayla.

The revelation that all Victorian romantic fiction was just dystopian romance without the Hunger Games happy ending really freaked me out. I guess that deep down, I still basically believed the whole apocalypse could be undone. One day, we could all go back to normal. I had to think about something else.

"Maybe, I still don't see what the co-lab's long-term plan was. Okay, you betray your people. You help the machines take over. You get your big houses, money and e-Slaves. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that the machines are true to their promises and they treat the co-labs like Lords and Ladies. What about your kids? Once the machines are running everything, why do they need co-labs?" I said. It wasn't helping, but it was one of those things I wondered about.

"I don't know. I mean they still need blood," said Kayla.

"Yes well, they have us for that," pointed out Joe.

"Won't they need people to help organise and train the e-Slaves? You know, people like the professors?"

"So you think they won't get machines like HAL to do it eventually?" I guessed.

"Why are you asking me? I don't know the answers. I'm a e-Slave. I'm a e-Slave like you. Go us!" said Kayla, half-heartedly holding a fist in the air.

"Maybe the choice between being a collaborator or being on the losing side simply made them not do the noble thing," said Joe.

"What he said," said Kayla walking off.

"All hail the robot overlords," we said as she walked off, wiping her eyes. I must have been in a funny mood because all I could think was it was good that this makeup, the robots forced on us, didn't run. Still, as human slaves go, no-run makeup was an absolute must. We sat in silence and after a while, I broke it.

"So, Kayla is on for having co-labs as owners, you A.I.'s and I'm leaning towards Cyborgs..." I said.

"Any reason?"

"It could have all the advantages of A.I.s and humans combined," I said.

"Or all the disadvantages of A.I.s and all the disadvantages of humans!" said Joe.

"Possibly," I conceded.

"I think I'm going to see what's up with Kayla," said Joe, getting up. As he walked off, he shifted his weight, "My shoulders are level, you misaligned lump of silicon stupidity," he said.

*****

A/N Still #66 in Science Fiction! 750+ and working our way to the cool 1,000-reads barrier! What's your vision of life under robot rule? Like Kayla, is Downton Abbey yours? Please, please vote and comment. We love comments. A group of 30 operatives are standing by ready for your call!