By Ian McDonald
The international: 'Cyberabad' is the India of 2047, a brand new, muscular superpower of 1 and a part billion humans in an age of man-made intelligences, climate-change prompted drought, water-wars, unusual new genders, genetically more desirable youngsters that age at part the speed of baseline humanity and a inhabitants the place men out-number adult females 4 to 1. India herself has fractured right into a dozen states from Kerala to the headwaters of the Ganges within the Himalayas.
Cyberabad is a suite of seven stories:
"The Little Goddess". Hugo nominee top Novella 2006. In close to destiny Nepal, a child-goddess discovers what lies at the different facet of godhood.
"The Djinn's Wife". Hugo nominee and BSFA brief fiction winner 2007A minor Delhi megastar falls in love with a synthetic intelligence yet is it a wedding of heaven and hell?
"The dirt Assassin". Feuding Rajasthan water-rajas locate that revenge is a gradual, sophisticated process.
"Jasbir and Sujay move Shaadi". Love and marriage may be plain-sailing whilst your matchmaker is a soap-star man made intelligence.
"Sanjeev and Robotwallah". What occurs to the boy-soldier roboteers whilst the battle of Separation is over?
"Kyle meets the River". a tender American in Varanas learns the genuine which means of 'nation construction' within the early days of a brand new country.
"Vishnu on the Cat Circus". A genetically greater 'Brahmin' baby reveals himself left in the back of as he grows in the course of the ultimate iteration of humanity.
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Additional resources for Cyberabad Days
Machine-gun rattle. Kyle had never heard it so close. It was very exciting. Bullets cracked all over the place, flying wild. Kyle thought that perhaps he should hide himself behind something solid. But he wanted to see. He had heard it so many times before and now here it was, on the main streets in front of him. That cat-missile was getting really really close. Then the guard let loose a lucky burst; the steel cat went spinning into the air and blew itself up. Kyle reeled back. He had never heard anything so loud.
Not at first asking. A week passed without the jemadar calling. It was over. So over. Rai had taken to squatting outside, squinting up through his cool sexy dangerous shades at the sun, watching for its burn on his pale arms, chain-smoking street-rolled bidis. " He smoked the cheap cigarette down to his gloved fingers and ground the butt out beneath the steel heel of his boot. "When it happens, when we can't use you any more, have you something sorted? I was thinking, maybe you and I could do something together, go somewhere.
She was worried. Kyle knew that. Cantonment was locked down and would be until Coalition and Bharati forces had resecured the Green Zone: that was the way it was, Kyle had learned that. Locked-down was locked-out for Dad, and the SKYIndia hovercams were still showing towers of black plastic-smoke and ambulances being walked through the crowds of lost people and burned-out cars by Bharati policemen. The reporters were saying there were casualties, but they were also saying that the network wasn't fully restored and that was why he couldn't call; if there had been Western casualties, they would have said straight away because dead Bharatis didn't count and, anyway, it was inconceivable that anything could happen to Kyle's dad.