eBook
Buy
About This Book
Fennel is a lab rat with a (strong) mind of his own. Part of an experiment to isolate the precise pheromones that drive rats to procreate, he decides to not cooperate, at all.
Decides to go on a mating strike.
And not only that, he secures the agreement from his lab-rat friends to do the very same. All around mating strike.
With some interesting fallout.
::::
I think of myself as Fennel, but those in white coatsâ€"researchers, they call themselvesâ€"refer to me as “120112A†after my birthday (the First of December, 2012). The “A†means I was the first of the litter to be born (out of the gate, as it were) that dayâ€"my three siblings, emerging right after me, one, two, three, are known, in researcher dialect, as “120112B,†“120112C,†and “120112D†respectively.
They, however, think of themselves as Unicorn, Wishful, and Stream, respectively.
We live in a big plastic tank. Not unlike a small, transparent, upside-down bathyscaphe. That’s how I think of it, anyway. Unicorn doesn’t agree. Then, again, he rarely does.
We are lab rats. It is a dangerous job. Not so good for your health. I don’t recommend it.
Next door to ours is another big plastic tank. In it are another four lab rats, two boys and two girls, just like in my familyâ€"or tribe, that’s how we see ourselves. Tribes. One tribe to a tank.
We’re a tribe, they’re a tribe.
Our tribal name is Winter. Their tribal name is Spring. Because we’re a little olderâ€"two weeks older to be exact. Winter before spring, not very creative, but it works for us.
Their research names are “121512A,†“121512B,†“121512C†and “121512D.†A and C are the brothers. B and D their sisters.
They think of themselves as Forest, Rain, Cliff, and Mist respectively; Rain and Mist being the girls.
Once we were bornâ€"we had hardly hit the white, soft, sponge and cotton carpet of our bathyscapheâ€"Mother was removed and retired or simply disposed of, I’m not precisely sure which, they never said. I have my suspicions, though.
Never got to say bye. Didn’t even get to say hi. All in the name of science.
These days the researchers are trying to make us Winters mate with the Springs. Unbeknownst to them, howeverâ€"to the researchers, that isâ€"we’re on a mating strike. Both tribes are. No rat babies here. Not even close.
It came about like this.
Decides to go on a mating strike.
And not only that, he secures the agreement from his lab-rat friends to do the very same. All around mating strike.
With some interesting fallout.
::::
I think of myself as Fennel, but those in white coatsâ€"researchers, they call themselvesâ€"refer to me as “120112A†after my birthday (the First of December, 2012). The “A†means I was the first of the litter to be born (out of the gate, as it were) that dayâ€"my three siblings, emerging right after me, one, two, three, are known, in researcher dialect, as “120112B,†“120112C,†and “120112D†respectively.
They, however, think of themselves as Unicorn, Wishful, and Stream, respectively.
We live in a big plastic tank. Not unlike a small, transparent, upside-down bathyscaphe. That’s how I think of it, anyway. Unicorn doesn’t agree. Then, again, he rarely does.
We are lab rats. It is a dangerous job. Not so good for your health. I don’t recommend it.
Next door to ours is another big plastic tank. In it are another four lab rats, two boys and two girls, just like in my familyâ€"or tribe, that’s how we see ourselves. Tribes. One tribe to a tank.
We’re a tribe, they’re a tribe.
Our tribal name is Winter. Their tribal name is Spring. Because we’re a little olderâ€"two weeks older to be exact. Winter before spring, not very creative, but it works for us.
Their research names are “121512A,†“121512B,†“121512C†and “121512D.†A and C are the brothers. B and D their sisters.
They think of themselves as Forest, Rain, Cliff, and Mist respectively; Rain and Mist being the girls.
Once we were bornâ€"we had hardly hit the white, soft, sponge and cotton carpet of our bathyscapheâ€"Mother was removed and retired or simply disposed of, I’m not precisely sure which, they never said. I have my suspicions, though.
Never got to say bye. Didn’t even get to say hi. All in the name of science.
These days the researchers are trying to make us Winters mate with the Springs. Unbeknownst to them, howeverâ€"to the researchers, that isâ€"we’re on a mating strike. Both tribes are. No rat babies here. Not even close.
It came about like this.
Genres & Themes
Genres
Subgenres
Buy This Book
Formats & Editions
Browse the different covers, formats, and publication history for this title.
eBook
eBook
Buy