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Chapter 11
Jack's return visits to the doctor were going well. The gene therapy had repaired the damage caused by the mini-stroke and all the tests pointed to complete recovery. The doctor noted that Jack seemed more relaxed and cheerful. Jack agreed, he had also noticed he had more energy and was enjoying his work again. The reward of doing the job his way and the interaction and thanks he received from other researchers made the hours fly. He was focused and much more able to take things in stride, a trait he would soon find useful.
Jack was awakened early one morning a few weeks after he had posted his software by a call. It was from Phylicia. “Jack we have a problem,” she said.
“Oh, hi Phylicia what's up,” he said sleepily.
“Your website, access is above normal, my friend tells me it's under investigation by the administration. She doesn't know how much longer it will be allowed to remain online.”
“Phylicia the website can't go down now, it is making a significant contribution to the independent research community.”
“I know Jack, I’m sorry.”
“Isn't there some way to placate the administrators?”
“Well, according to my friend they are going to want to meet the 'high school student' who created it. What are we going to do?”
“First, tell your friend that I’m sorry for the trouble. I'm also sorry I got you involved in this, I never expected there to be so much interest in the software. I thought it would take months not weeks before I made any headway with the research community. Second, tell your friend to give the administration my name and phone number, I'll explain as best I can. And I'll do my best to minimize the involvement of anyone else.”
“Okay Jack. I'll keep you informed, and don’t worry about me I can take care of myself, bye.”
Things moved fast, less than a week later a meeting had been scheduled between Jack and the university administrators. Jack knew that he needed to present a convincing case that would persuade the administrators to fund the website for the good of the research community.
When Jack had finished his presentation the university's Head of Information Technology spoke up, “Mr. Jackson we are not here to argue the worth of your research. But that you have used the resources of this university in a somewhat deceptive way I believe can also not be argued. You have used a public outreach program set up by the university to encourage high school students with their research and you have used it for personal reasons. We understand that your proposal passed our committee's approval but this website on our server is supporting researchers without recognition of the university's resources being used. We also believe that your promotion of some discredited methods of synthetic biology reflects poorly on the university. We think we have been very understanding so far. But because of the reasons I have just stated, we must now advise you that you have one week to move your website to other servers or we will be forced to shut it down without your cooperation. Do you understand Mr. Jackson?”
Jack felt defeated. “Yes,” he said.
Back in his apartment Jack posted that the website would need a new home and that he only had a week to find one. He received words of encouragement from the researchers using his software. Most of them weren't even involved in viral research but were using it for biological redesign, synthetic bio-bricks, and a host of other applications. But unfortunately, even with all the well wishes, no one offered him a host server.
Jack sighed.
Oh Miri, won't I ever learn?
Chapter 12
At first, it didn’t seem like much of a problem. A few sailors returning from a six-month tour of duty in the Indian Ocean reporting to the hospital at Naval Station Norfolk in Virginia. Doctors begin cataloging their flu-like symptoms and treating them for a viral infection although they didn't know what virus was involved.
As a young child, Sal Jeremy had played with his father's old Navy hat. His father had worked his way up to ship's captain before he was killed in the Third Gulf War. Sal had determined early that he would join the Navy when he was old enough.
He had just returned from an Indian Ocean cruise and was looking forward to traveling home when he began to feel a little run down.
“Hey Milton,” said Sal. “You want to go over to the base gym and workout a little?”
George Salton was called Milton because of his penchant to read poetry. “Sure,” said George, “let's go.”
The base gym was almost empty that morning. Sal and George worked adjacent treadmills for almost an hour. Suddenly Sal's knees buckled, he caught himself from falling.
“What's wrong Sal?” asked George. “Did you trip?”
Sal had stopped his treadmill and was leaning against the stand. “No, I just felt extremely weak for a moment.”
“Maybe we better take a break,” said George.
They walked over to the coffee bar and sat down. After a cup of coffee Sal said, “Milton I'm still not feeling right, maybe I should go see a doctor.”
“Sure. Can you walk okay?”
“Yeah,” said Sal.
George was walking beside Sal and conjecturing about all the things that might have caused Sal to feel sick. “ … And that food we had last evening, I for one felt sick just looking at it, maybe that's the problem.”
Just then Sal's knees started to buckle again, George caught him.
“Sal, Sal! What's wrong?”
Sal didn't answer, so George bent Sal's body over his shoulder and took off in a jog towards the hospital.
Besides Sal, others were being treated for the same symptoms, three were released within twenty-four hours. But Sal and the rest weren't responding to treatment. The medical personnel was becoming worried.
Thirty hours after George had brought Sal into the hospital he was dead. George had called his family to tell them Sal had entered the hospital, Sal's commanding officer now called to give them the bad news.
The day after the first men had reported sick to the base hospital two dozen more men, including Sal, showed up. On the third day, another twenty men came in sick. The fourth day was more crowded with nearly forty men coming in. Within a week half the crew from that particular ship, nearly one hundred and seventy sailors had visited or were in the hospital. Then other sailors showed up that had not been on the stricken ship. By this time the death toll had risen to forty-five with twice that number in serious condition.
There were some who died only hours after contracting the disease. The symptoms always started as a headache and burning eyes. If the infection continued to progress as Wesley Williams had witnessed in South Sudan months before, it would not be long until they started coughing up blood, and then gasping for air they would drown in their own body fluids. The doctors tried everything, nothing helped. Whether it took hours or days the results were the same for more than fifty percent of the infected. But if they could survive more than a few days they almost always recovered.
The CDC was alerted and they sent a researcher, Dr. Hughes. She took samples that the Navy doctors had prepared back to her lab. There she discovered that they were dealing with a new strain of the flu that had been seen a few years before. It seemed also to have elements of the virus Wesley Williams had found in South Sudan and the influenza she had caught in Vietnam.
Roberta wondered if it could be a MGE (mobile genetic element) moving from one virus to the other. That would be a first, she thought, anyway a vaccine was needed and fast.
Almost immediately the entire medical establishment of the country was alerted to the problem. An effort to develop a vaccine was begun. A study of the possibility of an MGE being the genesis of the new virus was started. Field canvassing to find others infected began.
But even with the assurance from the medical community that a vaccine was imminent, the constant barrage of media reports and the memory of the last outbreak caused fear to grip the public.
Many movie houses, restaurants, shopping centers and other public spaces closed due to the fear of exposure to the flu. Government had declared martial law in some places. Face masks of doubtful efficacy were required by law for anyone venturing into public. In urban areas, National Guard troops accompanied morgue runs that picked up dead bodies. To maintain quarantine the government banned private burial services and instituted public burials, mass graves became common.
People that still worked tried to stay home and were living off what savings they had amassed. Those that didn't work were impacted when services provided by human workers began to fail. Robotic workers were able to make up some of the labor shortage. But even so, there was often a lack of needed public services.
Without shoppers, the commercial retail system struggled to continue functioning. The government began to make up for the faltering commercial systems. Automated convoys guarded by manned military vehicles moved food and other goods from producers to local distribution centers. Other troops accompanied the usual robotic delivery vans to see to it that the foodstuffs were distributed safely to local markets or homes. The government printed the money it needed to keep the system from collapsing although hyper-inflation was a worry.
People providing services the government considered essential that weren't yet provided by robots were drafted into the employ of their country. Essentials included food, transportation, law enforcement, energy, and network communications among others. Trade between countries started to fall as goods considered non-essential were allowed to sit in warehouses and factories. Network connections became the basis for staying in touch with relatives and friends.
Streets empty, routine interrupted, the mounting worry paralyzed entire nations. Only a few brave (or criminal) souls went out in public.
Chapter 13
Jose loved to ride his bicycle. He had wanted this particular model since he was six years old. He had worked hard to save money, taking out the trash, cleaning his room and lately keeping the yard robots in line. And now at the age of eleven, with the help of his dad, he had his bike. The only problem, he hadn't been able to ride it for the past few weeks. Because of the virus outbreak, his mom wouldn't let him leave the yard. He talked to his dad but he told Jose to listen to his mom.
But this Saturday morning in Los Angeles while his mom and dad slept late he was determined to take his bike out for a ride. He applied the tube of 'Secure Skin' his mother had bought to his arms and other exposed areas. 'Secure Skin' was a virus repellent made out of aligned carbon nanotube channels which were small enough to keep out viruses (and chemical agents) but still allow air molecules to pass. He sealed his helmet to his shirt with duct tape and spread 'Secure Skin' on that also. He carefully and quietly rolled the bicycle out the side door of the garage. He waited until he got to the end of the driveway before mounting and riding towards his school.
The built-in heads-up display of his helmet used GPS to show his location in relation to the surrounding streets. It also showed vehicles equipped with locators which were required by law during peacetime. He could focus on an area of the screen to ID the other traffic. The display was relatively quiet except for some vehicles near the school. He focused and the screen identified the vehicles as belonging to the west coast unit of Homeland Security, Urban Task Force. He would have to avoid the school.
Jose turned left on Manzanita Street. He would go down to North Hoover and take Burns Street. He was half-way down Burns Street when he saw some fast approaching vehicles on the display. They would cross just ahead of him on North Virgil. Focusing, he found them to be Department of Defense troop transports. This would be cool, he thought. He would hide behind the parked SUV ahead and watch. He shut down his display.
The rumble increased, he felt the ground shaking, and a roar as the first vehicle passed. From his gameplay, he identified it as a robotic ground sweep. Its duty was to scout ahead of the convoy for any enemy activity, or in this case, cross-street traffic. As that roar settled down there came another roar and rumble as he saw troop transports passing. He counted ten transports each with a capacity of twenty troops. The rumble was just quietening when he heard a vehicle approaching. Another sweeper brought up the rear.
He was just about to arise when he heard the buzzing overhead. He ducked back down ending up flat on his back under the SUV. Skyward were robotic drones searching for movement below. He stayed as still as he could for as long as he could until he thought the drones must have moved on.
Jose got up slowly. Cool, he thought. He was just about to jump on his bike when the doors of the SUV flew open.
“What we got here, who you junior?” said a man. Two others also emerged from the SUV.
“I'm Jose, who wants to know?” said Jose defiantly, though he was backing away and looking for a way out.
The man laughed and said, “Who wants to know? I'll tell you shrimp, I wants to know. Me and my friends wants to know. We wants to know if you carrying any money?”
Jose had ten dollars in his pocket. “No, who you think I am, a Rockefella?”
The man laughed again, “You're a funny kid, gonna be a shame messing you up.” He lunged at Jose.
Jose spun ninety degrees to the charging man and started to run mounting his bike on the fly.
He jumped the sidewalk on the other side and headed for the alley between buildings. Except it wasn't really an alley more like a narrow opening. Jose moved his hands in on the handlebars to avoid having them scrap the bricks on either side. He heard the men yelling behind him and the SUV starting.
Jose popped into the open and turned sharply left onto a narrow parking lot. He heard the screech of tires behind him as he made it to the end of the lot. Darting to the right under a tree and onto a lawn, Jose didn't slow down.
He emerged onto another parking lot and once past an open gate turned left on the sidewalk of Normal Avenue. Jose began looking for another open gate and made an almost immediate left between some low buildings. He zig-zagged his way back north to Burns, not slowing until he got to the sidewalk.
He carefully peddled to the corner of Burns and N. Virgil where the SUV had been parked on the other side of the street. His heads-up showed no traffic on Burns or N. Virgil but it could be the SUV was blocking its signal. He stopped and pushed his bike to the corner of the building and looked slowly up and down N. Virgil. Seeing no vehicles he took off in a hurry crossing N. Virgil and flying down Burns.
His heads-up showed no traffic on the cross-street Madison so he blew through the intersection without slowing down. He turned left on N. Vermont Avenue and was soon at his destination, Osteen Drugs.
Jose had met the owner, Jason Osteen, at the cafe on the corner where Jose liked to buy milkshakes. Jason was reading the same old-school comic as Jose except in paper. Jose couldn't believe that such an old guy would be reading the same comic and a paper comic at that. They got to talking and Jason suggested to Jose that he should come over to the store and see Jason's collection of paper comics. Anytime he wanted he could pick out a comic and take it home to read. Jose had been going there every few weeks since.
Jose noticed the yellow ribbon across the entrance to the store. He tried the door but it was locked. The glass in the door had been broken and plywood covered the opening. Jose looked up and down the street, for the first time he felt the strangeness of the outbreak, it wasn't just news on the TV now. Jose felt a shiver; he turned his bike and headed back home as fast as he could.
Chapter 14
One evening as Jack was still searching for a host for his website there was a knock at the door.
It was Phylicia and she had been crying. “Hi Phylicia, come in, what's the matter?”
“I’ve been suspended from the lab. Professor Camble said I had been using my time in an unauthorized manner, I guess he means the time I've devoted to your project.”
“I’m so sorry Phylicia. I can’t believe this is happening to you. Just because you were trying to help me.”
“It’s those non-disclosure agreements we signed, they are written in such a way that we are nothing but slaves to the university, we haven’t rights to anything.”
“This is my fault Phylicia. I shouldn’t have allowed you to get involved. I’ve been foolish to think that the university is something other than a business. That they were interested in furthering knowledge in whatsoever way possible. All they are interested in is money and notoriety.”
“I wouldn't be surprised if Camble hadn't encouraged the university to shut down your site.”
“You might be right Phylicia but it's out of our hands now. With this viral outbreak and the general state of the world we can't be concerned with the machinations of the university anymore. We have to do the things necessary to take care of ourselves and help others.”
He continued, “And right now I think the only thing we can do is have that dinner I promised you long ago. I think we could both use a quiet evening. How about it, I'll cook us some food?”
“Sure Jack that would be nice.”
As they sat down to eat Jack offered up a prayer before they began, something he hadn't done since he was a young man.
Jack had taken Phylicia home late that night, as they had talked well into the evening. It was Saturday morning and he was still in bed when his Annie announced a call from a Dr. Roberta Hughes. Dr. Hughes introduced herself as a researcher in the Infectious Diseases Pathology Branch of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, she had been one of those using Jack’s software. After telling Jack how great a help his software, especially D-Cages, had been to her research, she began to impress upon him the need to get his site back up and soon when Jack interrupted and asked, “Excuse me Dr. Hughes, but why do you think it is so urgent?”
“Mr. Jackson we at the CDC believe we have a real problem. The plague virus of a few years ago seems to be back and it appears to be more contagious than before. I don’t have to tell you what that could mean.”
“No,” said Jack coldly. “You don’t, I know what that could mean.”
“Yes, and I believe that only the combination of services your site provided will help us with the virus detection and delivery mechanism modeling my lab needs to do in time to save lives. We have a vaccine already in development but of course, that only protects those not yet infected.”
“Well the biggest problem I face right now in re-establishing the site is that I don't have a host server and cloud ANI. And I don't have the money to lease them.”
“I think the CDC can help you with that Mr. Jackson.”
“You mean you will provide support free of charge?”
“Yes, we can provide you with the necessary space in our cloud and ANI access if you will commit to getting it set up and online. Mr. Jackson, I guarantee the CDC will be willing to take care of everything else.”
“Alright Dr. Hughes, I'll do what I can to get it set up as soon as possible.”
“Thank you Mr. Jackson and good luck. I will have someone contact you with the server information.”
Jack called Phylicia. “Guess what,” he said when Phylicia answered.
“What is it Jack?”
“I've just finished talking to Dr. Roberta Hughes with the CDC. They want me to get the website set up again. And you'll never believe it. They are offering to provide the servers and any other support I need.”
“Jack that's great. But I wonder why?”
“Well, there is a serious reason for their offer. They think the global viral epidemic of a few years ago is back and some of the researchers involved in its investigation were using the site previously and believe it would be an asset to have it up and running again.”
“That's wonderful. I mean your work could really make a difference in people's lives, just as you wanted.”
“You're right Phylicia, I hadn't thought about it but that is what it is really about, making a difference. But you got one thing wrong.”
“What is it Jack?”
“It's our work now, not just mine.”
Chapter 15
Of course, there were those who tried to take every advantage of the situation. They stole what they could and sold it on the black market. They promised cures for a price that some desperate families could not resist when faced with the loss of a loved one. Perhaps the worst of the worst were those that threatened to infect people if they did not pay the price the extortioners demanded. These were the most sought after by law enforcement. Pervasive surveillance and biometrics proved their worth as arrests were eventually made.
But no matter how hard the government tried there were always people falling through the safety net. Then something happened that was unexpected. Private individuals took it upon themselves to deliver services to those in need. It wasn't just altruism though, it was as commercial as any business. But except for a few outliers, most of the services were provided at a reasonable cost considering the danger the providers were taking upon themselves. It was enough to supplement the government's efforts and keep those in need from perishing. It was enough to keep some semblance of order in a society on the brink of disintegration.
But it wasn't enough to keep complete order.
“Damn kid!” exclaimed Rivera, pounding the steering wheel.
“Okay,” he said to the other two, Lamoille and Camel. “We've wasted enough time, what's the next address Camel?”
“765 Hyperion Avenue,” said Camel.
The SUV pulled into the driveway and stopped. The driveway continued to the back of the house. The house itself had at one time been a single private residence. Maybe a hundred years old it was now partitioned into separate units. The unit Rivera wanted was in the front.
Rivera unfolded his Annie and reviewed the target information. He then straightened his suit tie and walked up to the front door with the medical satchel in his hand. He knocked and waited.
An elderly lady called from inside, “Who is it?”
“Mrs. Cheevers?”
“Yes.”
“It's Dr. Joseph Sachs. If you remember we talked over the phone?”
“Oh yes Dr. Sachs, I remember.”
“Mrs. Cheevers I believe I told you I would try to get by today. Is it okay if I come in?”
“Well, I guess so, although I had forgotten it was today, wait while I get my keys.”
Once inside Rivera asked, “How is your husband today Mrs. Cheevers?”
“He sleeps most of the time. I don't think there is much change.”
“Have you considered what we discussed over the phone? I believe he is an excellent candidate for our treatment. I mean, as I told you, I can't guarantee it because each person reacts somewhat differently to the regimen but after our discussion, I believe he may be one of them.”
“Well the doctors at the hospital aren't any more help. They've given up on poor Mitch. Do you really think it could do some good?”
“I wouldn't be here if I didn't think there was a good chance Mrs. Cheevers. I have to choose the patients carefully, there's only so many hours in the day.”
“Oh I understand Dr. Sachs. It's just that it's a lot of money.”
“I know Mrs. Cheevers and I'm sorry to have to ask but your payment will go towards making more treatments that will be offered to others. For them, like your husband, it may be the only hope.”
“Okay Dr. Sachs, if you will administer your treatment I will get the checkbook. Is a check okay?”
“That will be fine Mrs. Cheevers.”
It didn't take Rivera long to administer the 'treatment', a concentrated vitamin B shot, and leave the sugar pills with Mrs. Cheevers. He took the thousand dollar check with him.
“Please keep me informed Mrs. Cheevers, you have my number, I am always available to my patients.”
“Thank you Dr. Sachs and goodbye.”
“Goodbye Mrs. Cheevers.”
Back in the SUV Rivera handed the check to Laimoille. “Scan that quickly and make sure it deposits,” he said.
Laimoille scanned the check with his Annie. A few seconds and he signaled thumbs up. Rivera started the SUV.
“Who's next Camel?”
They drove away to their next 'appointment'.
Chapter 16
After a day and night of non-stop work, Jack and Phylicia almost had the site back up. The cloud servers the government provided were adequate but as with everything the government does there was a lot of resistance when doing even the simplest things. The security requirements were extremely confining, often stumping them until they could contact their CDC liaison who would then chase the request up the chain of command until he found a person that could resolve the problem.
Eventually, they had it all put together and brought the site up. By that time the flu epidemic had reached its peak.
Except for a few trips to see each other Jack and Phylicia had mostly stayed in their apartments after bringing the site up. For weeks they maintained and updated the software and site remotely. But now they had been invited to a meeting at the CDC by Dr. Hughes. Jack called Phylicia about the invitation. Because it would require them to fly, neither was looking forward to the trip. Still, they prepared for travel with a feeling of excitement.
Their first long-range venture outside their apartments since the epidemic had begun shocked them with what they saw. Streets deserted of people except for troops and automated delivery vans. Checkpoints that had to be negotiated. Robotic drones overhead and robot security on foot. Barricades and barriers seemingly everywhere, nothing they had seen on television could compare with what they were seeing with their own eyes.
At one point Jack took Phylicia's hand absentmindedly.
“Jack?”
“Yes Phylicia.”
“This is frightening isn't it?”
“Yeah that pretty much sums it up. It's amazing how fragile is civilization. Normality gone in a moment. I'm thinking I may be more afraid of the measures taken to meet this emergency than by the cause of the emergency itself.”
They continued their ride to the airport quietly, taking in the strangeness of the scene, still holding hands.
At the airport, the old security was back, a thing they had only heard about. Besides checking ID's and tickets, security also scanned them for their temperature before allowing them to board the plane. At least the plane was only half full, the seat next to them was empty, no doubt a result of the viral outbreak.
Even though he had been there before Jack found Atlanta to be as strangely unfamiliar as Boston. It was as if the cities had been transported in total to a foreign country or a different planet. The enormity of the situation was more real to Jack now than it had ever been. He was glad he had been of help to the researchers at the meeting. He was glad Phylicia was with him.
The halls of the CDC were bustling with human researchers and robotic assistants. A robot concierge guided Jack and Phylicia to their seats.
The meeting began with introductions. It was an impressive assembly. Some of the better-known names were Dr. John Sailes of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at the National Institutes of Health, responsible for understanding how viruses were spread and how that might be prevented. Dr. Mary Heier, head of the Bureau of Biologics at the Food and Drug Administration, responsible for quality control and licensing of vaccines. Dr. James Gold of Virginia's Department of Public Health, the epicenter of the outbreak in the United States.
Dr. Frank Kilbourne, Director of the CDC, began the meeting. “I want to thank everyone for being here today. We at the CDC have been tasked with spearheading the response to this influenza outbreak. As many of you know we could be seeing a new mutation mechanism with this virus where MGE is involved. But however it arose we are pleased to report that researchers here at the CDC along with researchers at the National Institutes of Health have produced a vaccine for this current strain. This is the fastest response ever to any viral outbreak. It was facilitated by the rapid increase in our ability to model and simulate the viral proteins and their delivery mechanism. We have already decided to have the vaccine mass-produced and we want to thank those manufacturers who have responded to our call. We have also decided not to make this a mandatory inoculation but to allow local health authorities to decide the proper course to follow in their respective communities. We do however strongly recommend that everyone be vaccinated as soon as the vaccine becomes available, which should begin shipping in about two weeks, again a rapid response time by historical measures. We believe with the addition of this vaccine to our arsenal of treatments we will now be able to get ahead of the outbreak.” There was applause from the audience.
When it subsided Dr. Kilbourne continued, “We also want to announce an initiative to offer help to those who have already contracted the disease. As you know in any outbreak there are those that are already infected before they can be vaccinated. This highly contagious virus and its high rate of deaths have convinced us that we also need a way to treat those already infected and that we need to develop that treatment just as fast as we can. To that end, I have assigned Dr. Sydney Spencer, Deputy Director of the Office of Infectious Diseases here at the CDC to head the program. Sydney will now speak to you about this new initiative.”
As Dr. Spencer was beginning to speak a robot concierge came up to Jack and Phylicia and asked, “Are you Jack Jackson and Phylicia Hastings?”
“Yes,” said Jack.
“Would you follow me please, I will take you to Dr. Hughes.”
They were taken to the cafeteria and introduced to Dr. Hughes. “Oh, Mr. Jackson, Ms. Hastings, I'm so pleased to meet you in person, call me Roberta please.”
After asking Jack and Phylicia how they liked their coffee, Roberta turned to the robot concierge and asked that two more coffees be brought to the table.
“I hope you both are enjoying the conference. You two had much to do with making it possible you know.”
“Yes I do find it interesting, and please call me Jack. Although I have to admit, I'm not real sure why I was invited.”
“We thought, that is I and my team, that you two would find it interesting to see what your work has allowed us here at the CDC to do and the researchers that have been using your software wanted to thank you both personally. I think you will be surprised how much your efforts have helped our research.”
She continued, “It is no small thanks to you two that we were able to develop a vaccine for this infection. I would like to take you to meet some of my team.”
“Thank you, Roberta, we look forward to meeting them,” said Jack.
After finishing their coffee Dr. Hughes took Jack and Phylicia to a lab room down one of the side corridors. Upon entering Jack saw about a dozen people. Dr. Hughes called for attention and introduced Jack and Phylicia to those assembled. Jack seemed embarrassed when several researchers congratulated him on his software but Phylicia seemed pleased, if not for herself then for Jack.
Several of the researchers gathered around Jack and Phylicia in discussion.
“Mr. Jackson,” said Mark Lindsey, one of the virologists.
“Please just call me Jack, Mr. Jackson is just too formal for me.”
“Well Jack. Your software has been very helpful to my research and having an ANI link makes it even better to use. I was wondering what motivated you two to create such a great tool and make it open to all.”
Jack related his original motivation to find a cure for the disease that had killed his family. He then told them about his health problems that had put that search on hold. He brought Phylicia into the conversation by saying how helpful she had been in the software’s development and the price she had paid for that help.
Dr. Wesley Williams spoke up, “We've been able to apply your software to some of our existing projects and with good results. We are also interested in your program for research into providing a treatment for people already infected with a virus. I've been personally charged by Dr. Hughes to look into your idea of blocking molecules. As you know your idea is very similar to one of the ways the human body already employs to neutralize viruses. Have you made any more progress since your last posting?”
“No,” said Jack. “I've given it a great deal of thought though. I don't see any reason the approach wouldn't work except for one thing.”
“What is that?”
“I'm not sure the replication rate for the blocking molecules will be fast enough to block all the virions. It would basically be a race between the blocking molecule production rate and the virus reproduction rate.”
“Yes,” said Dr. Williams. “I had just about come to that conclusion myself. Do you have any ideas?”
“Well, the only way I see that we can be sure to get the production rates necessary is to use the body's cells themselves.”
“You mean as the virus does? Infect cells with blocking molecule machinery and allow them to create the needed copies?”
“Yes.”
“Preposterous,” said one of the virologists listening. “But it might work.”
“Jack,” said Dr. Williams. “I hope you will consider collaborating with us as we pursue a viral cure.”
“Certainly. I would be more than pleased to help out.”
“Jack, Phylicia,” said Dr. Hughes interrupting the discussion. “You may not realize exactly what you have done. You have essentially legitimized the use of synthetic biology in biological research. Something that, as you know, was frowned upon for years by the biology establishment because of the accident that killed the fruit flies.”
“Well,” said Jack. “I was an engineering student before I switched to biology so the idea of using synthetic biology to design a mechanism for viral detection seemed logical. The history of the reaction to that accidental release of gene drives from the Moscow lab seemed to me more of a knee jerk reaction among those fearful of foreign research groups. Gene drives, which everyone knows override natural selection to pass a desired trait down through succeeding generations, in this case, selection for male offspring only, have nothing to do with synthetic biology. As far as I know the reaction, which was never an outright ban, chilled synthetic biology research in academic labs here but nowhere else in the world which is probably why many people are looking at restarting their programs and why I continued with it in my research.”
“I think you will find most of the researchers here at the CDC agree with you. But since we work for the government we could not approach its use logically as you have,” said a virologist.
“Well, I guess that is the result of not having a real job over the past few months and not needing official approval for my work. I am fortunate in what happened to me although at the time I was pretty distressed. I had personally wanted to be the one that discovered an effective approach to handling viral infections. You only realize after long reflection that it is the effort you contribute to the goal that counts not whatsoever you do.”
“I would be willing to bet,” said Dr. Hughes, “that the methodology that you have provided for researchers here will eventually lead us to accomplishing the goal you set for yourself all those years ago, a universal viral cure.”
“Thank you Roberta, those are kind words,” said Jack.
“And you should be proud,” continued Dr. Hughes, “of what you have accomplished so far. You have contributed just as much to helping us find a vaccine for this current outbreak as anyone here.”
There was immediate agreement expressed by the other researchers.
“And I believe your wife and son would be proud too,” said Phylicia.
Jack looked at Phylicia, he was smiling again.
END
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