My rich Great Aunt Gertie lays in bed, eyes closed, arm around her beloved cat, Eustus.
He’s not the original Eustus.
Gertie tried cloning. Cloning is hit-or-miss with personalities, though.
Luckily, the last came out nice and docile.
Now, she’s trying out the latest in hologram fields.
Before, they just rendered dusty, translucent ghosts.
These days, they’re quite lifelike with tactile presence.
Eustus wakes up, stretches, and curls back up, purring contentedly.
Gertie flickers for a moment, smiles in her electronic sleep.
She left everything in her will to Eustus.
(Even though he’s just a cloned copy, my lawyers say.)