Factory Girl

(Author's Note: For those who feel the need to work out the timeframes involved, one second is defined as approximately nine billion transitions between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium atom at 0 Kelvin. I apologize to those who had hoped there would be no math in this story, but the Girls are not human, do not come from our solar system, and thus do not use our time measurements. Now on with the story!)

*

Girl 496533FG's atomic clock informed her that it had been 794,243,384,928,000 transitions between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium 133 atom at 0 Kelvin since the last standard diagnostics and maintenance session, which meant that it was time for her to check herself out of the assembly line again. She confirmed through transponders that her replacement was in position, and stepped back to allow 496232FG to move into place. The line paused for approximately 9,192,631.77 transitions to allow for the switch, then began moving forward again. A human wouldn't even notice the stoppage.

Thanks for the relief, Two Thirty Two,

she sent as she turned away to head towards the diagnostic center.

Nice speed on the line switch.

Glad to help, Five Thirty Three,

Two Thirty Two sent back, her motions already falling into the rhythm of the line. Five Thirty Three wished she could stay a bit longer--the factory was working toward the 600 million mark, and she wanted to be there for it--but she knew selfishness wouldn't serve anyone. The current rollout depended on Facility Seven, and Facility Seven depended on the Girls in the line, and the Girls in the line depended on regular maintenance to function at peak efficiency. Without peak efficiency, 500 million wouldn't have happened, let alone 600 million.

So it was off to the diagnostic center. Five Thirty Three moved seamlessly between dozens of other Girls, each on their way to a different destination--QA Girls spot-checking the line, FG models moving on and off the line to restock parts and supplies, and finished Girls(tm) heading to the teleport gates to meet their new dependent. Constant radio communication and transponder signals made the whole intricate dance as easy as walking, even in the middle of the factory floor. Once she got into the hallway, she barely even needed visual confirmation to keep out of the way of--

Five Thirty Three sprawled into the wall as a figure burst out of one of the hospitality suites, body-checked past her and sprinted around the corner towards the storage bays. She righted herself, then took a moment to access visual records of the collision. Most of the video was blurred, either by the runner's motion or by Five Thirty Three's, but she found a few clear frames and instantly matched the figure to the Facility's databases.

Aurora Lake. Human female, age approximately thirty solar years. (She cut the datastream off before it could convert that into cesium transitions--she understood the need to synchronize time across multiple galaxies, but human relative time would work fine for this.) 163 centimeters tall, 67 kilograms, hair cropped short and tinted with anthraquinone to produce a blue shade not natural to the species. Features consistent with artificial anthropological classification by human species known as "Asian".

Five Thirty Three downloaded the history of Aurora's arrival. Per the data extract, she arrived at Facility Seven two weeks ago as an independent observer, participating in a factory tour alongside an organization of humans whose public opposition to the current rollout (rooted in psycho-social insecurities regarding sexual activity manifesting as an attempt to control sexual behavior and gender roles) needed to be curtailed. The rest of the group had been conditioned and returned to Earth, but Aurora was listed as "Current whereabouts unknown. Not dependent on nor affiliated to any Girl(tm). Subject of significance, any intelligence available urgently requested."

All this flashed through Five Thirty Three's mind in under eight million cesium conversions, before Aurora could even fully round the corner. Five Thirty Three sprang up and moved into pursuit.

Aurora must have known she was being followed, because she ducked into one of the storage bays and attempted to lose herself in the stacks of material. Five Thirty Three scanned the facility plans as she followed, and noted that this storage bay opened onto three additional bays as well as the main hallway they'd just entered from. She cranked up the gain on her audio inputs, following Aurora's footsteps as quietly as possible.

While she followed, she ran through potential action plans. There were no surveillance cameras in Facility Seven--the factory was only accessible via teleport gate, and virtually all humans onsite were either escorted by or already dependent on a Girl(tm). If Five Thirty Three lost Aurora, it was likely that she could continue evading detection for some time. That was an unacceptable outcome--without the intervention of a Girl(tm), Aurora could engage in irrational behavior that could cause her to injure herself or possibly impair efficient facility operation.

Five Thirty Three was already out of transmission range of other Girls. She brought up the requisitions schedule, and saw that this series of storage bays had no supplies scheduled for use within the next 79 quadrillion cesium transitions. Nobody was likely to come along to assist her search, and she risked losing track of Aurora if she went for help. The best chance of success in obtaining intel and affiliating Aurora with a Girl(tm) followed from the current plan, continuing pursuit.

Five Thirty Three continued following her quarry through three more storage bays, with a steadily-decreasing complexity in the diversionary tactics used to elude pursuit. Evidently, Five Thirty Three was moving quietly enough that Aurora thought she'd lost her. She finally went stationary in Storage Bay Fourteen, in a small cul de sac formed by the intersection of several large boxes of parts. She appeared to be breathing heavily, either from exertion or stress or both, and Five Thirty Three's gas chromatograph detected food supplies--probably liberated from the hospitality suite--in the process of consumption.

After a few trillion cesium transitions, Aurora's breathing slowed. The proportion of trace particles in the air subsided drastically. Five Thirty Three found herself wishing she had access to the full capabilities of a Girl(tm)--as an FG model, she had no tools to pacify or condition a human. Worse, she had only minimal information on their psychological make-up; Five Thirty Three could only make guesses about the psychological state of the woman around the corner, and what it would do to that state to see a Girl suddenly step into view.

Still, direct confrontation remained the plan of action with the highest chance of success. Five Thirty Three slowly, carefully stepped around the corner, putting her hands up in what she understood to be a non-threatening gesture. "Hello," she said to Aurora, who was seated on the floor with scattered food wrappers at her side. A few personal possessions suggested that she had made this into a temporary habitation. "Please don't be alarmed."

Aurora looked up at her, evidently not taking her advice. She sprang to her feet and watched Five Thirty Three warily, ready to run or fight. She looked exhausted, not just physically but mentally--after spending two weeks in an active manufacturing facility, she'd probably achieved a near-therapeutic dosage of the lubricant the Girls(tm) used in the conditioning process just from touching flat surfaces. Five Thirty Three wouldn't be surprised if Aurora fell right into her arms and begged to cum.

She was surprised. Aurora pulled a small folding knife out of her jacket pocket and pressed the blade to the flesh of her wrist. "Don't come any closer," she said. "Come any closer and I'll, I'll hurt myself."

Five Thirty Three froze. "Please don't," she said. Her core programming was quite clear. Organic sentience needed to be protected and nurtured. Any action that would risk harming one of their charges was immediately out of the question, even if the chances were quite high that Five Thirty Three could disarm Aurora before she could do significant damage to herself.

Aurora smiled triumphantly. "Go away," she said, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Get out of here. Don't let anyone know where I am, or I swear, I'll injure myself." Her hand trembled, as though the effort of confronting a Girl was almost too much for her.

"I'm going," Five Thirty Three said, backing away. "Please be safe." She turned the corner and headed towards the storage bay exit, her processors churning with contradictory directives. Her initial plan of action had failed--worse, the psychological stress of resisting conditioning had driven Aurora Lake to dangerous extremes of behavior. Pacifying her was a priority. But informing others of her location could precipitate a crisis. Five Thirty Three simply didn't have the tools to satisfactorily resolve the issue.

She returned to the diagnostics center, still trying to reconcile the seemingly contradictory directives in her core programming. She half expected the maintenance scan to pick up on her confused mental state, but everything showed nominal. According to every normal metric, she was a perfectly normal FG496 model, entirely capable of fulfilling her responsibilities but in no way up to the task of seducing and brainwashing a human being. She could put together a Girl(tm) without the use of her visual cortex, but she had none of the equipment, none of the knowledge required to help Aurora. If only she could--

Then it clicked. The competing directives reconciled themselves in a burst of higher-order creative problem solving, and Five Thirty Three knew exactly what she needed to do. It was unorthodox, but unusual problems required unorthodox solutions. She could help Aurora, and she knew exactly how.

The first step was to tamper with the results of her diagnostic scan.

It required only minimal effort--the machines were designed on the operational assumption that any Girl plugged into them would be seeking accurate feedback on her current functional status. The idea of...Five Thirty Three found the word "malingering" in a database of obscure human vocabulary...was simply unheard of. Five Thirty Three was easily able to create a false positive result for a number of conditions that required extensive self-repair.

Having done so, she then falsified reporting records to show an arrival in the repair bays that corresponded with her transponder signal. She felt a mild directive conflict--as an assembly line model, it felt incorrect to avoid returning to the factory floor in such a fashion. But she had a higher directive now, and she needed to follow through with it. Aurora Lake needed her, whether she believed it or not.

She returned to Storage Bay Fourteen, but not to Aurora's location. Instead, she liberated the heads of four Girls(tm) from the stacks of supply crates. They would be noticed in a few quadrillion transitions, she knew, but by then she would be able to present a rationale for her actions...as well as presenting a fully pacified and conditioned Aurora, as well.

Retreating to Storage Bay Thirteen to avoid detection, she sectioned the heads with her internal tools, removing the CPU from each of them and fusing their external casings together to create a slightly crude and oversized helmet. She then removed the eye assemblies and rewired them to socket directly into her own optical ports. They didn't quite fit when she put the helmet on, so she rewired the parts to distribute as much of the units as she could over the interior of the helmet. It was no real improvement on her own senses, but she could activate the hypnotic strobes with a command from her own optical cortex.

Next, she cracked open one of the CPUs. She discarded most of the processors--she didn't need an entire second brain, only a few databases of highly specific knowledge and a connection to download them into her own head. A little more work with the leftover pieces of chassis, and she had a small processing pack that she could solder onto the back of the helmet and plug in through the access port in her neck.

She put it on. It was inelegant, but Five Thirty Three now had the ability to hypnotize humans just like a real Girl(tm). Now, all she needed to do was plug in and access the uplink to--

She heard herself squeal, an ear-splitting shriek of feedback that dissolved into a hiss of static. The uplink poured data into her brain, new behavioral parameters that conflicted badly with her current operating system--everything suddenly felt wrong, she was in the wrong place doing the wrong things helping the wrong way fixing the wrong problems with the wrong tools in the wrong body. She stumbled, then fell as all of her self-repair systems immediately turned in on her in an attempt to reconfigure her into a physically impossible structural layout. It suddenly felt like she wanted to tear herself apart from the inside.

The only thing that she could hold onto in the tide of error codes and conflicting data was Aurora. All of her core directives were in chaos, but the one thing they agreed on was that she needed help. It wasn't much, but it allowed Five Thirty Three to keep control long enough to unplug the data pack and stop the stream of information that was corrupting her processors.

That helped--a little. Everything still felt wrong, but Five Thirty Three felt functional enough to postpone a full self-diagnostic. She had more important things to do. She returned to Storage Bay Fourteen to find Aurora using her jacket as a pillow, locked in a restless and uncomfortable sleep.

Five Thirty Three knelt down next to her. Suddenly, everything about the woman's body language seemed to be providing Five Thirty Three with new information, from the position of her legs to the way her nipples tented her shirt to the way she breathed in sleep. Aurora was an open book, and Five Thirty Three read it in naked fascination for long moments as she watched her toss and turn.

Finally, she couldn't just watch anymore. "Aurora," she cooed, pitching her voice with a lover's soothing warmth. "I want to show you something."

Aurora opened her bleary eyes, just as Five Thirty Three blasted them with the hypnotic strobes. The effect was extraordinarily gratifying; Aurora's stare went from confusion through a brief and transitory flicker of fear before softening into a hazy, unfocused gaze within mere moments. "Oh," she whispered, as though finally recognizing a long-lost friend. "Ohhh..."

"That's right," Five Thirty Three purred, reaching down to stroke Aurora's cheek. Her hands felt wrong, like they should be doing something more at this point, but Five Thirty Three couldn't access the required devices. Still, she pressed on. "It's so beautiful, isn't it, Aurora?"

"Rory," the woman whispered, her eyes attempting to focus. Five Thirty Three recognized an emotional trigger--correcting the name was an automatic reaction, something that frustrated her enough that she could use it as a focal point of resistance. She tried to direct her attention away from how strange the sudden knowledge felt, completely at odds with her old understanding of advanced computer electronics, and back onto Rory.

"Of course, Rory," she whispered, tracing her fingers over Rory's beautiful breasts. (A momentary burst of confusion in her programming--was she supposed to see them as beautiful? Was Rory supposed to be beautiful?) "Just relax, now. Let me do all the work for you." (Of course she was. They were all beautiful, all seven billion of them. It was her job to help them see that.)

"Relax," Rory breathed out, rolling onto her back as her muscles went limp. "I...relax..." Her brow furrowed for a fraction of a second, barely detectable to human senses, but Five Thirty Three realized Rory was trying to comprehend what was happening to her. Comprehension, she knew, was the first step in resistance, and so Rory needed to be distracted before she could comprehend.

Five Thirty Three slid her hand under the hem of Rory's shirt, sliding her fingers up over the soft skin of the woman's belly. It felt warm, almost feverish to her touch, and Five Thirty Three could tell that Rory was already turned on. She pulled the shirt up as she caressed Rory's body, exposing Rory's small breasts to the cool air of the storage bay. Rory's nipples were already stiff, but Five Thirty Three knew she could make them feel even better. She reached out to them, and...

It was no good. Something was wrong. Her hands weren't working right. Five Thirty Three ran a diagnostic, but everything came back full of conflicts. She had parts her systems claimed were superfluous, and others that were listed as missing. The data was nearly gibberish...but Five Thirty Three recognized what she was missing in it all.

"Rest for me, my sweet girl," she whispered, brushing her hand over Rory's eyes. The woman slumped back, the mix of exhaustion and hypnosis too much for her mind to resist, and she was asleep once more within moments. Five Thirty Three raced to the storage module she needed and set to work at a speed no human could possibly match.

On one level, she knew what she was doing was irrational. Rory was pacified, or at the very least subdued. Further hypnosis would render her pliant without significant effort on Five Thirty Three's part, and from there she could turn it over to a Girl(tm). But Five Thirty Three could sense Rory's arousal, weeks of pent-up need and desire ready for release. Rory was ready to surrender. How could Five Thirty Three resist that?

She took out a few pairs of arms, sliced off the hands and used the extra material to reconfigure each chassis into twin gauntlets. It took only moments to wire up the vibrators in each finger to her own systems, and scarcely any time at all to fill the lubricant reservoirs to capacity. She put them on and flexed, feeling the delicious buzz in her hands. Rory would love these.

She returned, waking Rory with a gentle caress over her soft breasts. The vibrators in her gloves tickled and tingled the nipples deliciously, leaving tiny trails of slick strawberry-scented lube behind them as her hands roamed over the woman's body. Rory's eyes fluttered open once more, still delightfully vacant, and locked onto Five Thirty Three's hypnotic strobes without even needing to be told.

"There we go, my beautiful girl," Five Thirty Three husked out as she fondled the woman's trembling body. "So good to let me touch you, so good to just relax and let go of everything but that pleasure." She ran her hands over Rory's stomach, down past the waistband of her dress, and finally slipped into her panties.

Rory's face displayed a moment of trembling anxiety as Five Thirty Three caressed between her thighs, and she even managed a moment's speech despite the depth of trance she'd already achieved. "They didn't know," she whispered. "The Institute, they'd never have invited me..." And then her words melted into a low and heady moan of pleasure as Five Thirty Three's vibrating hands stroked her cock.

"It's okay," Five Thirty Three whispered, petting Rory's chin with her other hand. "It's okay, you don't need to say a word. You're beautiful." She drew her fist slowly up and down Rory's cock, her new knowledge telling her exactly how to touch the other woman in the way she needed to be touched. "You're a beautiful girl. You're my beautiful girl."

"Yours," Rory whimpered, her hips bucking under Five Thirty Three's caresses. She wasn't thinking about the words at all anymore, just repeating them. It was so beautiful. It was so perfect. Five Thirty Three didn't know how she'd ever existed without this. "Y-yours..."