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- Oh, lucky me. I was a female. How did I know this? Because my abdomen was slimmer than the rounder abdomen of the male drone, for one.
- But mostly because I had a stinger. It was about one eighth of an inch long and at the end of my abdomen. Kind of worked like a hypodermic needle. Except the tip was barbed so that it would stick into the skin of the honeybee's victim . . . and it shot poison, not some vitamin formula.
- Nice to have a weapon. But don't use it, Marco, the human brain in me reminded. If I stung an enemy, part of the stinger would remain in the enemy after I'd broken free. And I would die. Just like the bee I'd acquired. The bee who'd stung me.
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