I have pondered over the years when reading the editorial intros to SF stories, at the clearly disproportionate number of SF writers who have a number of cats. Haven’t come to any conclusions though.
Mind you I became a dog owner for the first time a year ago – and Ringo says hello. Which -is- pertinent to this review, as I read the short story with the little bugger asleep next to me in the armchair in his ‘on my back, legs in the air’ repose position, which of course made me probably more attenuated to a story about cats and dogs – or, rather, about those companions who have
Whilst we’ve had more than enough stories about humans cheating death through uploads, this is the first I can recall where our feline and canine housemates have lived on post-life, as the story briefly looks at the unintended side effect of the process that enables this to happen – clouds of AI nanites (or somesuch) that somewhat give the willies to people when the could arrives. For whom does the bell toll? And for the woman who set this all off, life is rough, rough.
More from this issue here.