Immortality seems everywhere, now. A couple of years ago, it was just some fad in Silicon Valley, like the competitive chicken breeding. But now, the postdoc knows people who know people who are doing it. Immortality. It’s a thing.

The postdoc prides herself in having an open mind, so she’s been thinking of trying it too. It would give her some extra time to sort out that formalisation of generics. But then, she’s a bit short of cash, which is a no-starter for an immortal. And it is not the only thing bothering her.

She can’t stop imagining herself at the top of the stairs, pumped up with fresh blood in her freezing suit, and absolutely terrified about taking a step down. Because at the bottom of the stairs the cat is looking at her in that cat kind of way, and what if it decides to get all entangled in her feet?

Just picture it. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of fresh blood and cryonic suit, wasted under a dead body with a broken neck.

She sees how she would slowly retreat back to her bedroom. Just in case.

And the cat is laughing his seventh-life head off.