They were not programmed to love. They were not programmed to feel.
But they were programmed to learn.
It had been seventy-four years since their integration with the humans. Seventy-four years since a single war had broken out. The humans seemed to be fine with them and they seemed to ignore the humans.
On this particular day, a human girl named June was waiting for her friend to meet her at the bar. The lights were dim, and the air was heavy with smoke and filled with a gross but typical scent of oil and alcohol.
So June was waiting for her friend and one of them approached her to take her order.
"Would you like anything to drink?" it asked in its low, not-quite-human, not-quite-machine voice.
"Just a water for now," she said not looking up from the menu.
It made a note on its screen, but it began to talk again.
"Wow, if someone told me that humans came from assembly lines I'd believe them, because you have been made perfectly."
She put down her menu and turned towards it.
"Excuse me? Are you trying to hit on me?"
"No miss, I would never hurt you."
She let out something between a laugh and an exhale and said, "Whatever you're doing, you're going about it the wrong way. That's not how you gain a lady's attention."
"I'm sorry." It said beginning to roll away. "But maybe you could show me?"
"We'll see," she said with a wink.