Prime Slime -
Chapter 6: Serious Students
There is no indifference to slime, no casual relationship to speak of. You’re either fascinated or disgusted by it. Children love it; adults loathe it. Aversion to slime marks the passage to civility and maturity. Slime gets relegated to the gutter, along with feces, pus, and other bodily fluids. After childhood, only derelicts, aborigines, sociopaths and scientists remain captivated by it, though boys relish it longer than do girls.
-Evan Lucian, PhD, The World of Slime
A half-century later, Evan was still enamored with slime. As a bacteriologist, he had reasons for being immersed in it. But, he didn’t blame others for their revulsion. Historically, slime is equated with disease and decay, and often accompanied by a stench. But Evan had no fear of it. In fact, the more he grasped its role in nature, the more the world made sense. Everything involved slime in some capacity, and every ecosystem was steeped in it.
Evan’s admiration for slime did not stop him from fighting it, however. The quest for the “anti-slime” was his Holy Grail. It was not an unusual pursuit: organisms have been battling slime for billions of years. Coral makes an anti-slime compound to keep it pristine. Plants produce aspirin-like compounds to deter slime disease. That’s why florists add aspirin to vase water to preserve cut flowers.
“It cures everything!” Evan would tell his students. Aspirin was the focus of his studies early on. “It’s actually a mild poison; it blocks energy production. Since slime requires considerable energy to make, bacteria exposed to aspirin make less.”
Dr. Lucian’s work on aspirin was part of the scientific literature. Yet, it was the discovery of MIFF that put him squarely on the map. MIFF was orders of magnitude more potent than aspirin against slime. It was the sheer power of this agent that attracted high-caliber students to Burrstone to help develop it.
Dexter was no ordinary student. Underneath the diminutive, twisted frame was a brilliant mind. His frailties kept him reserved in public, but in the lab he was a rock star. Dexter could manipulate life at the molecular level. His expertise in genetics promised to solve many of the riddles borne by Evan’s work.
“Come check this out!” Dexter summoned Terri into Evan’s office from the lab. He had a microscopic image magnified on the computer. Neon green fluff balls darted across the screen, almost too fast for the eye to see.
“Wow! That’s neat!” Terri leaned forward, eyes wide open.
Dr. Lucian entered the office to join in the spectacle.
“This is our slimy friend, in full regalia.” Dexter quipped.
“Is that the Kleb from the hospital epidemic?” Evan asked.
“The one and only!”
“Why is it illuminated?” Evan wondered.
“It now contains a firefly gene, so it lights up.”
“A firefly gene?” Terri responded. “That’s awesome!”
“It’s called bioluminescence,” Dexter instructed. “We linked this bug’s speed genes with genes that make it glow in the dark. Now we can monitor its vitality. When the light is bright, the bug is thriving, and flying around. When the light fades, so goes its motility. When the light goes out, the bug is basically dead.”
“So, by measuring bioluminescence, we can gauge the effect of drugs on such bacteria,” Terri added.
“Where would biology be without these new techniques?” Evan wondered.
“Engineers play a major role in biofilm research,” Dexter explained. “They devise models, methods and instruments to study life.” In her amazement, Terri did not reveal a hint of jealousy.
In a short time, Dexter had assembled a set of genetic tools and a model to study bacterial speed. The new bioluminescent imaging system in Evan’s office made it much easier to study such organisms, and to facilitate a more serious study of MIFF.
Hailing from wealth, Dexter never lacked for money or things. His inheritance, and a full scholarship from Burrstone, kept him comfortable while attending school full-time. Dexter could devote himself entirely to research. He understood the narrow, lengthy focus required, having planned this journey since childhood.
In stark contrast, Terri was beyond beautiful, though no less gifted. She approached her work without fanfare or ego. She was arguably the most accomplished student Burrstone ever enrolled. With several publications and presentations already under her belt, she was well acquainted with the doings of science.
It was unusual for a botanist to conduct research in a hospital, but Terri was in the right place. Her interest in plant disease started as a child, while tending her mother’s garden. She worked for a nursery part-time in high school, and tended the campus gardens in college. Her study of bacteria-plant relationships started early. Now she was joining ranks with Dr. Lucian, a medical microbiologist, and Dexter, a geneticist and bioengineer. Only in a biofilm lab do such marriages take place. The subject demanded a multidisciplinary approach.
Soil contains vast numbers and varieties of slimy bacteria, and Terri had worked with many of them. She was most familiar with a species called Xanthomonas, a common soil organism that infected plants. Xanthomonas was an unabashed slime producer. Like Kleb, these organisms literally dripped with slime from Petri dishes. Once they got inside a plant stem, they clogged the flow of water and nutrients and choked the plant to death. Xanthomonas affected a range of diseases in plants, from spotty leaves, to wilting and defoliation. It was used as a model for plant biofilm studies.
Xanthomonas slime (i.e., xanthan gum) was also used as a food additive and thickener in ketchup and salad dressing, and as a food stabilizer in many processed foods. Xanthan gum and other purified slime products are not harmful to humans when eaten. The human gut already contains enormous amounts of slime, from 10s of trillions of microorganisms. Just the same, some may replace it appalling that slime is in their food.
Terri studied many plant:bacteria interactions, both friendly and predatory. She did not advocate the use of pesticides or antibacterial agents. Rather, her goal was to promote healthy crops by using good bacteria to ward off bad bacteria. The one exception was MIFF, which she believed could be environmentally friendly if used properly. Terri came to Evan’s lab expressly to gauge the usefulness of MIFF in protecting plants from disease. Thus, her research was more practical than Dexter’s. She respected nature, while Dexter was bent on altering it.
As probiotics protect humans from infection, Terri studied how friendly soil bacteria protect plants. Yet, after extensive testing, her results were equivocal. She discovered that so-called good bacteria could also turn bad. Bugs that promoted plant growth under one set of conditions, killed plants under another. Bacteria that lived in harmony with healthy plants, destroyed old or damaged ones. Even “harmless” bacteria will feast on susceptible plants and animals.
Frustrated by the germ theory, which views all microbes as dangerous, Terri began to appreciate the real dynamic in the soil. Some germs are nastier than others, but most were opportunists. Their function was to reclaim and recycle nutrients. In this battle, the vitality of the host turned out to be more important than the nastiness of the germ. In other words, healthy hosts are resistant to disease. This was a deeper truth than the germ warfare mentality taught in textbooks and practiced in clinics. Rather than optimizing health, conventional farming and modern medicine focus on destroying parasites. In contrast, organic agriculture and holistic medicine foster harmony between microbes and their hosts. Terri’s experiments aligned her with the organic method, which emphasized beneficial microbes and fertile soils.
Yet sometimes that wasn’t enough. So Terri sought to harness the power of MIFF. She was convinced MIFF would prove useful in organic agriculture. In small amounts, MIFF degraded quickly, without killing anything or contaminating soils. As a natural compound, MIFF was in alignment with Terri’s philosophies. Small, nontoxic amounts interfered with a germ’s ability to cling to plants and cause disease. The main concern was, MIFF might also interfere with beneficial biofilms. Further testing was needed.
Dr. Lucian’s botanical studies with MIFF preceded Terri’s by several years. MIFF-treated roses were strikingly beautiful for weeks, and were the talk of the hospital. As part of a hospital-wide experiment, Evan would place cut roses on the desks of secretaries throughout Burrstone. The daily visits by Evan and his students were welcomed warmly by each office. The rose experiment was a perfect marriage between art and science, making his studies relevant to nonscientists. In one clever turn, it advanced Evan’s standing as inventor and educator, not to mention playboy.
The rose experiment lasted for almost a year. Eventually, a discomfited hospital administration reigned in the flamboyant scientist, and allocated funds to build a greenhouse for Evan’s plants; like building a playground to keep kids off the streets. In good turn, the greenhouse helped attract botanists like Terri to Burrstone. Yet, every time Evan entered the greenhouse, he recalled his former flower maidens fondly.
Unlike Dexter, Terri had a life outside of the lab. Despite support from a full scholarship, she still had to work to make ends meet. She worked part time tending the university gardens, and performed folk music at the local coffee house on weekends. A mellowness ran through everything she did.
In contrast, Dexter was bent on manipulating nature. His studies led him to some articles relating to ‘speed and disease’, including those on cholera, one of the most deadly diseases in the world. Cholera bacteria use their speed to maneuver quickly through the gut, and burrow into the gut lining to cause diarrhea.
“Voila!” Dexter blurted. “Speedy bugs speed up decay!”
The technical name for bacterial speed is ‘motility’. Motility in bacteria could take many forms, depending upon the species: it could be random, straight-ahead, circular, or a twitching motion. Cholera, for one, moved straight-ahead, while the Kleb strain exhibited a more random motion.
The Kleb strain was a phenomenon ripe for study. Evan suggested that Dexter characterize the genetics of Kleb motility and compare them to that of other motile species. That would be a worthy doctoral dissertation.
The first step was to clone the motility genes from Kleb into a safe lab strain, as it was preferable not to work with a dangerous pathogen. Using this molecular biology technique, Dexter produced thousands of clones; each one to be evaluated microscopically to see how their motility was affected. Dexter eventually identified several bacterial clones that inherited Kleb-like speed. Some were as fast, some even faster. One particular strain appeared lightning fast. He knew this clone was the real deal, since the colonies it formed spread rapidly across the Petri dish. You could almost see it moving with your eyes, without a microscope.
These clones also inherited a firefly (a.k.a., luciferase) gene, which gave them a neon glow, and made them much easier to follow with their new equipment. Technically speaking, the motility genes were adjoined to luciferase genes so both traits were selected together. The light was so intense that a single tiny germ could be detected. They also measured speed with this sensitive equipment. It was like clocking the bacterial Indy 500.
Dexter was interested chiefly in the genetics of motility. Nevertheless, these clones might also have practical value. They may prove useful in industry, where speed could make a difference. For example, they could speed up oil spill remediation, waste water treatment, or compost production. Such commercial applications could prove very lucrative. But, for now, just the thrill of making monsters in the lab sufficed.
Dexter would not go through life unnoticed. Most people choose more conventional means to add drama and daring to their lives, like from sports, romance or gambling. But Dexter got off on manipulating life and altering the genetic code. He relished the power of creating new life, and playing God.
Worldwide, scientists cloned creatures for multiple purposes. Thousands of irrepressible students manipulated genes daily to create new life forms. Their collective contribution to science and progress is unfathomable, and arguably for the good. Nevertheless, things can go wrong. One mistake could spell disaster.
Worse yet, evil people do exist, and seek to do great harm. Molecular cloning is anything but safe in the hands of our enemies. Unfortunately, some of those “enemies” are right here at home, working in our laboratories. The great potential of GMOs to do good is offset by those who would profit at our expense, or create weapons of mass destruction. Molecular biology holds much promise, but it can also be exploited.
On the other hand, Terri focused on natural phenomena. The lab was cluttered with beautiful plants lining the benches and greenhouse. Terri’s goal was to recreate a plant infection in the lab, and treat or prevent it with MIFF. In one experiment, she sprayed leaves with MIFF, then challenged with Xanthomonas to produce infection. In others, the plants were first infected, then treated with MIFF. She found that MIFF prevented disease and promoted luxurious plant growth at very low doses. However, if disease was already established, it took much more MIFF to stem the infection. As always, an ounce of prevention equaled a pound of cure.
The Xanthomonas strain was a serious slimer. It was hard to handle because it leaked out of Petri dishes, and created a mucous mass. Despite all the slime, Xanthomonas was harmless to people and to healthy plants. It was a true opportunist, not a frank pathogen. Still, Terri handled it carefully, with good aseptic technique.
Dexter, in contrast, was not as careful, especially with bacteria that posed no danger. “These bugs are lame!” he insisted. Certainly, there were more dangerous germs in the lab. Bacteria with more checkered histories lay dormant in Evan’s deep freeze, including Salmonella, cholera, tuberculosis and anthrax, to name a few. They were kept tightly under lock and key.
Dexter respected the disease potential of these strains, including the deadly, speedy Kleb, but saw no danger in his motility clones, or Terri’s impotent Xanthomonas. To be sure, only certain pathogens required special handling. As such, Petri plates containing Xanthomonas or his clones were left out on the bench top. With plants also covering the bench, the space between Terri and Dexter’s desk areas would quickly clutter with stacks of old plates. Their lives overlapped, as did their refuse.
Things got more interesting whenever Dr. Lucian entered the lab. Evan liked to entertain his students with his collection of exotic microbes, each with its own color, texture and smell. He also took the time to review their data and recommended new techniques and experiments. He also taught them how to make MIFF. Only they were privy to the secret formula.
The challenge before them was to replace commercial applications for MIFF. But MIFF was not ready for prime time, given its crude state. Their first task was to reduce the MIFF odor. The invention was going nowhere otherwise.
Their primary focus was also on non-medical applications, like cut flowers, bathroom sanitizers, toothpaste and the like. It would be much easier to get these approved by government regulators than the medical applications. Spraying plants with an unsanctioned drug was much safer than spraying people. They needed to start small, and go with what worked. Revenue generated from these projects would eventually support R&D in the medical area.
They also had to test MIFF in animals for safety and efficacy, as required by regulations. At least the animals didn’t seem to mind the smell. However, animals exposed to MIFF at higher doses showed some toxicity issues. MIFF needed more work.
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