faculty dining room. Still suspecting a snoopy receptionist, I told him I'd meet him there, and how he could recognize me. I was pretty sure I'd recognize him, with a high-caste Hindu name like his.
I parked in a restricted faculty parking lot and met him as agreed. Showed him my ID and told him that actually I needed to talk somewhere more private. He went for it, intrigued by the sense of secrecy, I suppose. At Peri's, after we'd gotten menus and a pot of tea, I said in a low voice: 'Doctor, what I'm going to tell you is strictly confidential. I'm working on a case that's highly sensitive and secret.' Then I told him about the viral meningitis, and Vector Biology's inability to culture it.
'First, though— Years ago I read that the viruses that caused the Great Flu and EVM, maybe even the AIDS virus, might have been engineered. In your opinion, is that technically feasible?'
He answered as quietly as I'd asked. 'Many things are feasible today. Thirty years ago, when AIDS first appeared, genetic engineering was quite primitive. But today, yes. Something like those could definitely be engineered. If one had the requisite facilities. It's not something one could do on a carpentry bench in one's garage.
'On the other hand, there's no need to blame genetic engineering for devastating plagues. Deadly pandemics have occurred throughout history without humans engineering them.'
I said nothing to that for a minute, just looked at him, setting him up. 'Dr. Chatterjee, I'm not interested in a virus that could infect millions. Can a virus be engineered that could infect only one person? One genotype?'
It took him a minute to answer. 'You are familiar with killer bees?' he said.
'Not directly. I've read about them. Saw a TV special on them once.'
'Then you are aware that what people today call killer bees are not the same insects imported into South America half a century ago. The killer bees we have here are the result of hybridization and introgression. They are an introgressed form of our domestic, mild-mannered
'However, earlier this year a geneticist at Stanford, Kareem Bennett, succeeded in tailor-making a disease that should eliminate the killer bee genes from the Americas. He started with an old endemic viral disease of the domestic bee, one that's been around for as long as anyone knows. And created a genetic component in the virus that makes it far more virulent than the normal virus.' He paused, shaking a finger for emphasis. '
I was starting to feel excited, instead of merely hopeful. 'How difficult is it to do something like that?'
'Now that it's been done once, it should not be so difficult. Assuming you have a properly equipped laboratory and the necessary skills. First Bennett engineered a viral genome that was totally nonvirulent. That was the most time-consuming step. Then he tailored a selected low-grade virulence for genomes that included what we can call the 'killer' genes. With that accomplished, he altered
'And other geneticists can adapt his procedures to their problems?' I asked.
'That is correct. Bennett's completed work has just been published in scientific journals. And, of course, a fully detailed description is available through the virological, medical, and entomological networks. As a referee for the AIBS journal, I received a draft of Bennett's manuscript, and with his permission circulated copies in our laboratory. I considered his work that interesting.'
'Umm. And a virus could be tailor-made for a single specific human being and no other?'
'A specific human genotype, almost certainly. One person, and any twins and other clones that might exist of him or her. But to make it specific, it would probably be simplest, certainly safest, to key the virus to that person's total genome. Which would seem to require working with diploid material from that particular person or his clone.'
'What sort of diploid material?'
'Hair would suffice.'
It was looking more and more as if this was the right track. 'If,' I said, 'a meningitis virus was designed to kill Arthur Ashkenazi and only Arthur Ashkenazi, I suppose they'd have started with the EVM virus. Correct?'
For just a moment, Chatterjee's eyes widened. Up till then we'd been talking bees and hypothetical humans. Now we were down to cases. 'Probably not,' he answered. 'There is something available that would make the work much quicker and easier. Assuming the designer had diploid material from Mr. Ashkenazi.
'The EVM epidemic simply ran itself out, you know. Epidemics do that. And may renew themselves later with genetic variants. The great flus of history, for example, and the Black Death. Meanwhile, researchers all over the world had worked desperately to develop a vaccine, and finally succeeded. If EVM should now recur in some genetic variant or other, there exists a noninfectious, nonvirulent form with which people may safely be inoculated. Unless they happen to have an allergic reaction. A form which will give them immunity without even a mild fever. It can even be taken orally.
'Thus if someone wished to tailor a virulent form, one would best start with the vaccine. A major part of the work has already been accomplished.'
Something else occurred to me. 'How long would it take to do it?'
'It is difficult to say. Three months perhaps. Or possibly as little as two weeks, considering that one would be designing it for a complete genome. Also, one would not need to go through the steps of designing a low-level virulence and then modifying it for a greater. So let us say ten to thirty days.'
'And how long would it take after inoculation to make the victim sick?'
'It's difficult to state in advance with any certainty. It might be quite quick.'
'Hours?'
'Quite possibly.'
'Who'd have access to the vaccine?'
