associate is Dr. Vicki Banks. She will be assisting with today’s presentation. Mr. Greene in public relations tells me you are all physicians.”
“Except me,” Heidi said. “I work with Mr. Greene.”
Lou again saw Brenda’s eyes flash.
“I’m Dr. Brenda Greene,” she said. “Mr. Greene and I are— were —married. This is Dr. Harvey Plimpton and this is Dr. Lou Welcome. We’re attending the national physician health organization meeting, and we’re all thrilled to be here.”
Scupman, looking as if he could not care less who they were, nodded but made no attempt to shake hands. His eyes narrowed, possibly at the notion of having to interact with a species composed of more than one cell. A cloud of sorts passed in front of his face.
“I confess I was surprised that your husband would offer up our unit this way,” he said. “Much of the work we do here is top secret. To guide you into the heart of our lab would be profoundly irresponsible. You see, within the confines of this facility exist more than ten thousand different species of bacterium—”
“Actually, at last count, we have more than twenty thousand,” Vicki Banks interjected.
“Yes, of course, thank you,” Scupman said. “Twenty thousand different strains of germs, many of which are so lethal that even for people highly trained in biorisk management, including the most advanced biosafety and laboratory security protocols, the dangers are still quite pronounced. I know you’ll want more, but for your own protection, today’s tour will be confined to the safety of a slideshow.”
“We understand,” Brenda said, her disappointment obvious.
“Please, if you’ll take your seats,” Banks instructed. “Dr. Scupman has another commitment, so we’ll need to begin right away.”
As soon as everyone was settled, the lights dimmed and the first slide—bright colors, high definition—appeared on screen. It depicted a series of pink, rod-shaped bacteria, housed within a pink culture medium.
“What you are seeing here,” Scupman said, “is a Gram negative motile bacterium called Burkholderia pseudomallei. This impressive little creature is the root cause of the infectious disease melioidosis. Without proper treatment, mortality rate for infected organisms exceeds ninety percent. Vomiting, high fever, cough, and profound chest pain combine to deliver a mercilessly slow and agonizing death. This bacterium, endemic in parts of Asia, Australia, and Africa, is currently classified as a category B biological weapon agent. It is sturdy, easily obtained, easily cultured, and stable enough to be weaponized. Impressive, yes?”
Scupman flashed through a series of slides depicting different germs while speaking of the miraculous properties of each of them as if they were his brilliant, accomplished children. The more he rhapsodized, the more uneasy Lou became. It was one thing for Scupman to love his work, but another altogether to idolize the very beasties he was trying to defeat.
“Humans possess a vast array of defense systems to guard against such foreign intruders,” the entomologist went on, “and yet, despite all our impressive advances in science and medicine, we still have not unlocked the secret to the body’s abilities to defend itself. The step from genetic response to antibacterial effect remains as mysterious to us now as the origins of life itself. You may be impressed with our body’s capabilities, but I am here to tell you that frightening as it may seem, there are very few battles that bacteria are not equipped to win.
“How can an organism like B. pseudomallei remain hidden inside the human body for years, undetected by the immune system, as though a prowler has taken up residency within a burgled home, and then suddenly and without warning, become active and spread throughout the body until the victim’s life-giving blood turns to poison? This”—Scupman held up a single finger—“is but one of the questions our