The Furnace

by Timothy S. Johnston

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry.” His face was impassive, uncaring.

  I grunted. “Fine. Sit there and do nothing.” I looked at Shaheen.

  She sighed. “I’m telling you, the brain-tissue sample is the only thing I can think of.”

  “Let’s try to come up with something a little more practical first. If we can’t, then we’ll try your idea.” I jerked a thumb at the doctor. “And we’ll do it on him first.”

  He jumped at my comment and scowled, but still made no response.

  “When?” Manny interjected.

  I considered the dilemma. Power would fail in eighteen hours. We had to time this perfectly. If we performed a brain biopsy as a last resort, it would have to be done with enough time left for a ship to reach us. And it would take eight hours for a ship to get here. “When ten hours remain,” I said, “we’ll take brain-tissue samples.”

  He considered that. “Make it twelve, just to be sure they can get here in time.”

  I nodded. “Fair enough. That gives us six hours. Surely we can come up with something by then.”

  Shaheen winced. “That’s a lot of pressure, Tanner.”

  “There’s no other option. Now let’s figure out what we’re dealing with.”

  * * *

  We searched through article after article on our readers and tried to learn as much about bacteria as possible. Shaheen attempted to pinpoint the exact type of bacterium that Reggie had photographed in the drop of blood I had given him. Malichauk sat with his arms folded and watched with a kind of sneer on his face. I wondered if I had done the right thing in bringing him along.

  Eventually, I set down my reader and leaned back in the chair. “Okay, what have we learned so far?”

  “Well, I understand why some people are so scared of bacteria,” she said. “It can live in temperatures above the boiling point of water and in temperatures that would freeze us solid. It eats things from sugar to starch to sulfur, iron and sunlight. Bacteria in your intestines eat the food that you’re digesting. And get this—there’s even a type of bacteria that can withstand a thousand times the radiation that would kill a human being!”

  I absorbed it all slowly. I had assumed that radiation would kill the nanos. “What about the picture of the nano that Reggie took?”

  Her brow creased. “That’s where it gets a little strange. The computer had a hard time identifying it. I thought at first it was because of the processor components inside. But I think there’s something else too.”

  “What?”

  “The flagella.”

  I had to think for a second before it came to me. “You mean the tendrils that trail from one end.”

  “Yes. The bacteria uses them for movement. I’m assuming that’s how it migrates to the brain. But I can’t find a matching bacteria in the database.” She stared at her reader in silence. She seemed to debate with herself whether she should tell me her theory. Finally, “I’m thinking—” she glanced at Malichauk, “—that maybe he’s engineered this bacteria. Perhaps he attached flagella that belonged to another type.”

  Malichauk snorted. I shot a look at him. He was not good at this game. Shaheen had hit on something. “Go on,” I pressed.

  “I think we’re looking at a little bit of bioengineering here.”

  I folded my arms and grunted. If so, it would make it a hell of a lot harder to identify, and I knew we needed to classify the bacteria to create the test. Malichauk’s expression remained completely devoid of emotion, and as I watched him, I realized I wanted to just beat it out of him and be done with it.

  If we got close to the twelve-hour deadline, I would have to consider it.

  Shaheen studied me, but probably wasn’t aware of what was going through my mind. “What have you found?” she asked.

  I sighed in exasperation. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help here.”

  “Well...tell me what you’ve got.”

  “Here’s something interesting.” I glanced at the reader. “Many scientists think that early bacteria inhabited our cells and eventually became part of our own physiology. They may even be the mitochondria that make energy.” I hesitated. Something about that seemed important in some way. Something about bacteria existing in our cells...

  “I’m glad you find this interesting,” Shaheen said with a shake of her head. Then she stopped abruptly, and an odd look came over her face. “Something you said just struck me as important. About invading cells. Most bacteria don’t invade human cells. They live in the blood, in the intestine, on the skin, and so on.”

  I nodded. I’d had the same notion. I said, “But we know this nano—or bacteria, whatever—invades brain cells to take control.”

  “Yes, they invade the neurons. I’m just wondering how they manage to do that.” She paused and tapped the table several times. Then, “How many species of bacteria do you think can enter human cells?”

  “Thousands, probably,” I said.

  “But there’s something else: a great deal of bacteria that live inside us don’t do anything harmful. For that reason, our immune systems don’t react to them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve always assumed that a person infected with harmful bacteria would develop a fever, for example. It’s one way the body fights a bacterial infection.”

  “That’s true,” Sally said from the peanut gallery. “I’m no biologist, but I do know that most bacteria don’t trigger the immune system.”

  “Hmm,” I murmured. “Malichauk told us he’d developed the nano so it remained silent and hidden. That’s part of the reason why he fused it with bacteria.”

  “More so because it was the only way around the replication problem,” Malichauk said.

  I started, surprised he had spoken. “Why’s that? Why couldn’t you create a nano that built copies of itself?” Keep him talking, I told myself. Maybe something important would come out.

  He sat upright and suddenly seemed eager to speak about his creation. He probably thought the replication ability of the nano wasn’t something that could help us develop a test. Or perhaps he wanted to discuss replication to steer us away from the line of thought we had been on. I had to be careful here.

  He said, “The idea had been around since 1945, when a man named John von Neumann first proposed it.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” I said.

  “He’s a famous scientist from the twentieth century. He was Alan Turing’s teacher.”

  “Who?”

  He looked mortified. “Who was Alan Turing? My God man, that’s sacrilegious!”

  Shaheen said, “Come on Malichauk, either you’re helping us or not. What is it going to be?”

  Dammit Shaheen! I glared at her. Don’t antagonize the man!

  “I’ll talk about my invention,” he said. “But I won’t help you find a way to destroy it.”

  I knotted a fist. “So who was Turing?”

  “Only the creator of the computer. He was also a code breaker during one of Earth’s early world wars. The second, to be exact. He used his computing expertise to break an enemy’s code. Something called the Enigma code.”

  “So what does von Neumann have to do with this?”

  “He first postulated the idea of the self-replicating machine. He theorized—in the mid-twentieth century, keep in mind—that the most effective way to mine the moon and asteroid belt would be through the use of a self-replicating machine, to take advantage of its exponential growth capabilities.”

  Shaheen shot me a knowing look. I did my best to ignore her.

  He continued, “The problem with that was attempting to devise a microscopic machine that could create copies of itself. The difficulties have proved daunting. We’re still unable to do it, centuries after von Neumann proposed it!”<
br />
  “Why is it so difficult?” I asked.

  “Shrinking the processor and the method of locomotion was a breakthrough for medicine and engineering. But the replication has proved to be nearly impossible.”

  “It’s hardly impossible,” Shaheen broke in. “Engineers will do it one day.”

  “Sure. One day,” he sneered. “But I needed it done in my lifetime. In order to kill the Council, I needed self-replicating machines now.”

  “Why haven’t engineers been able to create the von Neumann machine?” I asked. Keep him talking...

  He frowned. “The concept implies that the medical nanos would harvest the building materials from within the human body. Materials exist for it, such as iron in the blood and so forth, but the manipulating arms of the nano would have to move individual atoms around and bind them together. We’re not quite at that stage. We can’t build manipulator arms that can move individual atoms.” He glanced at Shaheen. “Not yet, at least.”

  “Which is why you’ve fused a nano with a bacterium.”

  “Exactly! When I came up with my plan, I realized how foolproof it was.”

  Manny snorted loudly. Malichauk seemed to do his best to ignore him. “Why try to develop a machine that can replicate when we already have examples of it everywhere we look?”

  “You mean bacteria,” I said.

  “I mean life! We are essentially von Neumann machines. We are self-replicating. And yes, so are bacteria. So when I hit on the idea, I began a series of experiments that lasted more than a decade. I eventually developed an engineered bacterium—you were right about that by the way, Shaheen—and managed to fuse the microprocessor with it.”

  “And how does the processor replicate with the bacteria?” I pressed. I smothered a triumphant look; he had inadvertently given us something there—he had told Shaheen that her theory was right.

  “I inserted the code into the bacteria’s DNA. When it replicates, it also recreates the processor. It takes the raw materials from the host body, the same as with any other bacteria that live within a human being.”

  Katrina said, “If it wasn’t such a hideous idea, you might actually be eligible for the Nobel Prize, Lars.”

  He offered a sly smile.

  “But if you don’t help us, we’re all going to die,” she continued.

  His expression grew instantly dark. “I refuse to do what you want.”

  “Even if it means your own death?” I said.

  “I’d rather avenge my brother.”

  The clinic grew deathly silent.

  “I hope you don’t mean that,” Lingly said in a small voice.

  “I certainly do.”

  Another long moment passed. We stared at each other, yet again at an impasse. I exhaled loudly. “Okay,” I said. “So you fused a couple of bacteria cells together to create this nano.”

  “Plus a processor.”

  “Of course. Now, the question is, what bacteria did you use?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, Tanner.”

  Beneath the table, my fingers pulled together into a fist. Soon I would have to deal with this issue violently, and when I did, I was actually beginning to think I might enjoy it. Malichauk frustrated me, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face.

  I turned back to Shaheen. “I guess we have more research to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Maybe what we should focus on,” Shaheen said to me an hour later, “is which bacteria are capable of entering human cells.”

  That thought had occurred to me earlier. It had slipped away during the discussion with Malichauk, but here it was, back again. Perhaps Shaheen was on the right track.

  “There are many different varieties. We decided that earlier.”

  “Yes, but we could narrow it down even more. It has to be one that can hide from our immune systems. I’ve come across this article in the medical database. I think it might be important.”

  I noticed Malichauk stiffen. It took some effort to ignore him. “Yes?”

  “Our bodies can fight back when a dangerous bacterial infection occurs.”

  “You said that earlier. A fever, for—” I stopped suddenly. “Are you suggesting that someone infected with this nano will develop a fever that we can check for?”

  “No, that’s the whole point. There is no immune response. But this can help us narrow the type of bacteria that Lars used.”

  I nodded. “All right, so how do bacteria hide?”

  She glanced at her reader. “There are a number of ways. First, they can do something called molecular mimicry. These bacteria actually look like parts of the host’s own body. When they do this—through a chemical process—the immune system won’t attack because it thinks the bacteria actually belong there.”

  I absorbed that. “So you think this is what the nano does?”

  “Hold on. I’m not finished. There’s also the ‘suppression of antibody’ method. You see, when our bodies detect a harmful invader such as a virus or bacteria, they send antibodies to seek it out and destroy it. Some bacteria, however, can disable these antibodies. One example is a bacteria called Mycobacterium leprae.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  “It’s more commonly called leprosy.”

  I blinked. “Really? That was a dreadful disease. I didn’t know it was bacterial, though. I thought a virus caused it. It actually suppressed antibodies?”

  “Yes. Now, here’s an interesting method. Some bacteria actually—I’m paraphrasing what the article says here—”

  “You mean dumbing it down.”

  She flashed me the whisper of a smile. “For you, yes. It’s called ejecting the antigen. Some bacteria actually detach a part of themselves into the bloodstream. The body’s antibodies go after these ejected segments rather than the bacteria itself!”

  I suddenly wanted to yawn. This had brought back memories of her lecture on exponential growth, as well as Reggie’s discussion on the sun’s structure. “Fascinating,” I finally managed.

  “It really is,” she said. “It’s an example of the military looking to nature to develop methods of defense. From an engineering standpoint, it’s incredible.”

  My forehead creased. “What do you mean, military looking to nature?”

  “Well, it’s the same as a fighter—either in space or in an atmosphere—that launches decoys to attract enemy missiles. It’s quite a thing to see it happen at a cellular level.”

  “Oh.” Strange, the things that enthrall engineers.

  “Now, I’ve come across a bunch of other techniques bacteria use to hide from the immune system. They all involve attacks against phagocytes.”

  “What are those?”

  “They’re cells responsible for destroying and consuming harmful bacteria, an important part of the immune system. I’m going to skip over all these.”

  “Why?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Because I’ve found something more interesting. I’ve saved it for last.”

  I perked up at that. “What is it?”

  “It’s a method of evading our immune systems.” She looked up at me. “Tanner, it’s called hiding inside cells.”

  I turned to Malichauk. He looked from me to Shaheen and back again. I could tell she’d hit on something important. Call it a hunch. Or maybe the fact that Malichauk had a terrible poker face. “That does sound interesting,” I said after a moment.

  “The nano Lars created stays hidden from the immune system,” she said, also with an eye on the doctor. “This method of hiding struck a chord somehow.”

  “Maybe because we know our nano can enter human cells.”

  She nodded. “Indeed. But more important, not just any cells—brain cells.”

  S
he was right. Perhaps this was how we could narrow the choices down. “What does the article say?”

  She read from the screen before her. “‘Some bacteria hide from an immune response inside the host’s own cells. By doing so, they do not provoke an immune response. They multiply inside these cells and continue to invade the body. Some examples include Brucella, Listeria, Mycobacterium leprae and Mycobacterium tuberculosis.’”

  I leaned back in the chair and stroked my jaw. “I know the leprosy one. The last one obviously causes tuberculosis. But what’s Brucella?”

  “Um...give me a minute here.”

  I turned to Malichauk. “Do you have anything to say?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  “You seem to want to say something.”

  “I don’t.”

  I watched him for another moment. He was unable to keep his secrets hidden. I knew we were close.

  “Here it is,” Shaheen said. “‘Animals often carry Brucella and can cause infections in humans. It can enter the body via the skin, respiratory tract or digestive tract. It enters the blood and lymphatic system. Symptoms are high fever, chills and sweating.’”

  “What about Listeria?” I said as I watched Malichauk from the corner of my eye.

  She hesitated. “It’s officially called Listeria monocytogenes. It’s a food-borne bacteria. It’s one of the deadliest, in fact. It kills up to thirty percent of the time.”

  “Food poisoning?” I said, skeptical.

  “Yes. According to this, when you eat food that contains this bacteria, it reacts with the cells in the intestinal tract. Listeria binds to the intestinal cells and can penetrate the cell wall and cause infections.”

  “I see. But I’m not sure—”

  “There’s more,” she said, looking up at me. “Once the bacteria have entered the intestinal cells, they can also move to other organs.”

  “Such as?” I knew what she was going to say.

  “Spleen. Liver.” She paused before—

  “Brain,” I whispered for her. “Interesting.”