There’s something wrong with the dog. Nalla has witnessed natural-reversion behaviour before, but never in the street like this. Only at the test facility downtown, times her cousin Kendy smuggled her in, the pair of them feral with insurgency. Nalla crouches, instinctively, and the dog’s snout smudges wet against her hand. Her grandaddy had owned an original-real dog. Cindy would shadow Nalla everywhere, make her feel protected. Nalla refocuses and tries a basic enquiry -latest ice mass loss?- but the dog just gazes at her. She should call it in. Any kind of malfunctioning roboticized creature is dangerous. Instead, she air-messages Kendy. He’s adept at erasing tracking chips. She could hide the dog, safeguard it at home. She scritches its ears. The dog plants a paw on Nalla’s arm. She can’t move. Then she hears it, from the dog’s radial transmitter: ‘Subject has failed susceptibility test. Send disposal unit.’
Linda Grierson-Irish’s short fiction has appeared in a number of anthologies and journals, received two honourable mentions for Best Microfictions, been shortlisted twice for the Bridport Prize, and included in the BIFFY50 and the Best Small Fictions anthology. She lives in Shropshire, UK.
This story won Second Prize in the November 24 Monthly Micro Competition.