By Tam Linsey
The single crop left ... is human.
After genetically altered weeds devastate Earth's crop lands, Dr. Tula Macoby believes photosynthetic epidermis can keep the human race, and her humans single-mindedly embark on a project to transform the cannibals roaming what's left of Earth. but if Levi, a relaxed stranger, refuses alteration, Tula doesn't imagine the single innovations could be conversion or death.
Levi Kraybill, a religious member of the previous Order, left his Holdout farmland to hunt a medication for his terminally ailing son. Genetic manipulation is a sin, yet Levi will do nearly whatever for the lifetime of his baby. whilst he's captured, he's definite he's damned, and his in basic terms get away could be death.
Tula's superiors time table Levi's euthanization, and he or she dangers every thing to set the blameless guy unfastened. Now she and Levi are outlaws together with her humans, and she's an abomination together with his. Can they locate sanctuary in a cannibal wilderness?
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"A nice and calamitous series of arguments with the universe: poignant, terrifying, ludicrous, and awesome. The Exegesis is one of these booklet linked to legends and madmen, yet Dick wasn’t a legend and he wasn’t mad. He lived between us, and was once a genius. "—Jonathan Lethem
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Extra info for Botanicaust (Botanicaust, Book 1)
If it's presentable, old man. ” “Of course not,” he said, revolted. “What do you take me for? She gave me two happy years, on and off, and I want to make an adequate return. ” “He's a small thing,” I said, holding up my thumb and fore-linger again. “Could he give her a perfect voice? For a time, anyway. ” Mortenson's suggestion sounded the gentlemanly thing to do. His ex-mistress sang cantatas at the local church, if that's the proper term. In those days I had quite an ear for music and would frequently go to these things (taking care to dodge the collection box, of course).
I said, and held out my hand for it, but he made no move to give it to me. “You'll want more copies,” he said. “No, I won't,” I said, looking over his shoulder. It was a remarkably clear photograph in brilliant color. Kevin O'Donnell was smiling, though I didn't remember such a smile at the time I snapped it. He seemed good-looking and cheerful, but I was rather indifferent to that. Perhaps a woman might observe more, or a man like my photographer friend — who, as it happened, did not have my firm grasp on masculinity — might do so.
Now when you tell a story, old man, the air of disbelief that descends upon the room is thick enough to cut with a chain saw, but it's not that way with me. There's nothing like a reputation for probity and an air of honest directness. His eyes glittered as I told him. He said could he arrange to give her something that I would ask for. “If it's presentable, old man. ” “Of course not,” he said, revolted. “What do you take me for? She gave me two happy years, on and off, and I want to make an adequate return.
Botanicaust (Botanicaust, Book 1) by Tam Linsey