Four breeding cages stretched down the length of the room in two rows. The students were packed in a group of six, with the rest of them waiting outside for their shift. The air was congested with the stale scent of ammonia. The stench was how male mice marked territory; the lab technician told them. His voice had the mark of a seasoned professional. He was balding, wore glasses, had bad teeth, and a long white lab coat that had outgrown his fat belly. He hadn’t smiled once since the orientation began, and something in his mannerisms told them he was a man of business. The students knew they were going to dislike him for the four years that were to come. He shifted his weight to one foot and told them about the wonders of science. Lab mice, he pointed out, had and continued to play a part in progressing man’s innovations. He lifted the lid to one of the cages, and its occupants scurried about on the shredded wood charged with new energy. He picked up a slow occupant, and the rest watched from safety with little red eyes. The technician let the students observe as it frantically sniffed its new environment. There was a glow of power on the technician’s face. The glow brightened with the creature’s continuous display of fear and helplessness. He went on to talk about how well-suited the creatures were for research, but all Alice heard were its squeaks of resistance. They got louder and louder…
