Sarah made a hrmph sound and rolled her eyes. She knew that her husband was teasing her. “Well, I just hope Rhonda’s confidence in my team is well-placed and that we can figure something out, you know. Six weeks is such a short window of time. It’s almost laughable. You can barely begin to sink into a simple research problem in six weeks, let alone find answers to what’s killing those people up there in the Arctic and how to stop it. It’s going to be a tough nut to try to crack.”
“Is your whole team going to be working with you?” he asked, handing her an oatmeal raisin cookie.
Sarah sighed and took a bite, then held it out, inspecting it. She was always interested in how many raisins had made it into her cookie. The poor ones averaged less than five raisins, and the really good ones had more than ten, guaranteeing several in each bite. Hers had eight. She chewed slowly and then said, “Yeah, though that’s another bone of contention. They were none too happy about the change in projects, you know. But, they won’t be that way for very long. We’ll get the lab all ready to go and get the new tissue samples and everyone will be off and running.”
“Everyone except you, sweetheart,” said John, motioning to her propped leg.
Sarah smiled. “Yeah, sheeze, I’m ready for it to stop hurting so much.”
She watched as he poured the steaming tea into matching cups, added honey to his, and milk to both, then carefully stirred.
“Well, I think it’s a compliment,” he said, now reaching over and touching Sarah’s face softly. She felt herself relaxing again with his touch and the tightness she had felt all afternoon began dissolving.
“She has a lot of confidence in you,” he continued, “rightly so, if I do say so myself. And, this is a great opportunity for your team to be able to help and make a difference. Besides, six weeks isn’t that long, like you said, so you’ll be back to your AIDS research before the end of the summer.”
Sarah exhaled disheartenedly. “You’re right, I know you are. And I said these same things to myself this afternoon. But still, I was feeling bad about it just now, as I thought about it some more.”
John nodded. “Did I tell you about the studies we’ve just started?” he asked.
Sarah shook her head. Her husband worked in the Neuropsychology Department where he led a team that investigated personality disorders. Over the last several years his team had been focusing on fear, attempting to elucidate the specific chemicals that were released in the brain when that emotion was present, and analyzing how those chemicals were metabolized. How could they be adequately managed? Why were some brains more prone to releasing those chemicals, and thus more likely to be fearful, than others? His team also investigated teenage brains, since this age group seemed to not act out of fear. Thus they were asking what went on in adolescent brains as compared to what occurred in adult brains—did they release fewer fear chemicals, which in turn made them more likely to try something more daring, or did they process the chemicals quicker, thus diminishing their effect on the brain?
“We’ve just started working with mouse models. We’ve partnered with a group from Stanford, and we’ll be doing research with specific known triggers. I’m pretty excited about it,” John said, and then, as they sat and sipped their tea, he told her about his new research plans. Instead of the typical scenarios involving mazes and man-made challenges, they would be using triggers that were hard-wired in mice.
“You mean like cats?” Sarah asked.
“Absolutely! My colleague at Stanford has been working with mouse behavior to elucidate what part of the cat induces the fear response. Is it the smell of the cat’s body, the smell of its urine, the sound of its claws on the ground, the look of its fur, its speed, the sound of its meow or hiss, the look of its open mouth, teeth or its eyes—what is it about the cat that induces the most fear in mice?”
“Surely it’s the whole cat, I would think,” said Sarah.
“Maybe, maybe not. For some animals it’s the shape of the body of their predator that induces fear. People who are afraid of snakes, for example, will register systemic reactions to a two dimensional shape of the shadow of a snake. And gorillas are frightened of toy crocodiles.”
“No way! Gorillas are smarter than that, aren’t they?” shot back Sarah, playfully. She loved challenging her husband this way.
“They are quite clever, true, but at least some of them are afraid of toy crocodiles. Let me tell you a story: I once read about a neat set of experiments about a gorilla who was taught sign language. The trainer had an area where she didn’t want the gorilla to go, and she found that simply telling the gorilla not to go there didn’t stop him from doing so. He understood perfectly, but he did it anyway. So she put a toy crocodile there, and the gorilla immediately stopped going to that area.”
“Really? Couldn’t it tell that the crocodile wasn’t real?”
“Yes, I believe so, but it said that it was still afraid.”
“It said?”
“With sign language.”
“Oh, right.”
“Which means that you can’t just assume things about triggers that induce fear. Like you, with spiders.”
Sarah shivered. “I hate them.”
“See, just mentioning the word gets a reaction from you. And now if I draw this,” said John, quickly sketching a frightening image of a spider. He showed it to his wife and she grimaced.
“You see? Intellectually you know it’s only an image, just paper with ink, but it still evokes a visceral feeling from you. So it could be that the shape of a cat will do so to mice as well.”
“But, that can’t possibly be ingrained, John. If the mouse has never seen a cat, it might not know to fear it. I mean, you always hear stories about unlikely pairs of animals becoming friends. Ducks following a dog around, a pig and sheep being friends, things like that.”
John took a sip of tea, considering. “That’s true. Well, we shall see what happens. But the point of this whole story of mine is that you aren’t the only one starting on something new. We’ll both have lots of new things to think about over the coming weeks.”
Sarah nodded and smiled. John always made her feel better, no matter what.
CHAPTER 7
“So, where are we in terms of transmission?” asked Sarah. Since beginning research on the Laptev virus, she had become much more involved in the ongoing work of her researchers, and she was holding weekly meetings with them. Before, when they were investigating AIDS, she used to only meet with them about every two weeks, unless someone needed a more frequent reunion. This gave her more time, in turn, to focus on filling out grant applications and securing the necessary money to be able to purchase the expensive materials and supplies that they used, as well as to cover the salaries of her researchers. Writing the essays that grant forms required was practically a full-time job, and one which Sarah did not enjoy at all, but it was a reality in almost every university setting across the world.
“We’ve been able to confirm that it’s definitely a virus that is contained in the ice and that can be transmitted through the air,” said Drew. “We tried an experiment with an untainted sample of ice core that the company sent us. In an air-tight chamber, we placed human cells in open containers near the top walls of the hood, and used a hammer to smash the bits and release a few particles into the air. Within a few hours, the cells begin showing signs of infection.”
Sarah pictured the tissue culture hood, also called a laminar flow cabinet, in her mind. It was like a stainless steel box, often about three feet wide and two feet deep and perhaps 3 feet tall. Hoods were always incorporated onto a table or cabinet so that the base of the chamber was waist height and could be easily used when standing. The front of the chamber was covered with a sliding glass door. When the door was raised open, it disappeared into a slot at the top of the hood. Powerful and precisely aimed fans sent a strong layer of air down the front of the hood, where the glass door had been, creating an invisible curtain-like barrier across which the air in the room could not casually cross on tiny currents. This air curtain, known as laminar flow, also helped to protect the workers as airborne microbes tended to be trapped inside the hood when scientists were working with their arms reaching into the hood, while the rest of their body remained outside.