subject for which he’d won his Nobel and Lasker prizes. Virulence was the microorganism’s ability to invade and kill its host cells, something salmonella was particularly good at. Over the years Rothman had found, classified, and defined the five pathogenicity “islands,” or areas, in the salmonella genome that encoded for various virulence- related factors such as specific toxins and antibiotic resistance, both of which had contributed to salmonella being by far the largest cause of human food-borne illness in the world. Every year salmonella caused the mortality and morbidity of countless millions of people. Every year typhoid fever alone still killed upwards of half a million people, a situation Rothman had his sights on rectifying and was coming closer to each year.
Initially when Pia first joined Rothman’s lab, she had been more interested in his newer area of research, namely stem cells, and had hoped to work with them. But he had had other ideas and wanted her to cut her teeth with his continuing salmonella work. As time passed she’d become as committed as he in the microbiological arena, fascinated by bacteria and viruses in general and salmonella in particular and the microscopic realm they inhabited. Soon she found herself reveling in the involved science while enjoying the thrill of working with one of the greatest minds on the subject. On a daily basis Pia had come to relish refining her knowledge of genetics so that she could one day make her own contribution to basic research. Gradually she had come to realize how exciting research could be and how well it fit with her personality.
Pia watched Rothman type away in front of her. The level of his concentration was truly remarkable. One minute he’d been talking with her, the next he was totally absorbed, as if she were no longer in his presence. Pia did not take any aspect of his behavior personally. After he’d confided about his Asperger’s, she’d read about the syndrome and guessed that many aspects of his personality were dictated by it, even ignoring her as he was doing at that moment. Instead of being annoyed, she thought about the content of the article she’d rewritten. It was about studies that Rothman had been doing involving salmonella typhi grown in outer space on the orbiting International Space Station. Rothman had found that growing the bacteria in a zero-gravity environment made it enormously more virulent than control bacteria grown back on earth. It was Rothman’s belief that the conditions in space somehow mimicked to a marked extent those present in the human ileum, triggering the bacteria to turn on the genes in the pathogenicity islands to produce effector proteins. Pia was one of the few people who knew that at that moment in the refrigerated storage facility inside the biosafety unit there were three strains of these enormously virulent, space-grown salmonella. She also knew that what Rothman wanted to do was to figure out how zero gravity caused these changes with the hope of learning how to turn them off, not only in space but in the human ileum as well.
Although Pia had learned to be patient in Rothman’s presence, she had her limits. After a few minutes had gone by Pia coughed lightly. She’d found by experience that coughing seemed to penetrate Rothman’s concentration more than anything else. Almost immediately he peered around the screen of his Mac and pushed a box of tissues in her direction. He had a phobia about people coughing in his presence. He was, after all, a firm believer in the “germ” theory. Pia took one of the obligatory tissues.
“Right. Miss Grazdani, for this month’s assignment . . .” He disappeared from her sight again. He resumed his two-finger typing but at least kept talking. She couldn’t see his face but she preferred it that way, which he did too as both had trouble maintaining eye contact not only with each other but with everyone else as well. “I want to move you over into our induced stem cell work. You’ve done a knockout job with salmonella, but it’s time you started in the other arena.”
A smile of anticipation appeared on Pia’s face. Rothman’s words were music to her ears.
“We’ve been making breakthrough discoveries of late involving organogenesis.”
Pia’s heart picked up speed. It was the first time Rothman had talked to her about his stem cell work. She knew what organogenesis meant as the word was self-explanatory. It was now the cutting edge of stem cell research. It was the last hurdle before creating organs that could be transplanted into patients-organs like hearts, lungs, and kidneys. It thrilled her to think that Rothman was making enormous leaps forward. And the idea that she would become part of the effort gave her chills down her spine.
“At this stage our biggest problem is that tissue culture techniques and fluids have not kept up with the breakthroughs that we’re making. Current tissue culture techniques were developed for sheets of cells, not solid organs. I’m sure you can gather what I mean. It relates to oxygenation and removing metabolic waste while maintaining acid base balance within extremely narrow parameters. It’s been basically a combination of pushing the limits of biochemistry and engineering. We have come up with some impressive hardware breakthroughs, but the involved fluids have not kept pace. The problem that is now holding us back is the acid base balance. My guess is that the pH is varying too much. We can’t figure out why. What I want you to do is to become a tissue culture fluid expert and figure out why we’re having this pH problem. Got it?”
“I think so,” Pia managed. She had learned that it was never a good ploy to question any of Rothman’s directives. Anything and everything could be discussed again, but not on the spur of the moment.
“Good! Get to it! And when I finish making these changes in the manuscript, I’ll see that Marsha gets you a copy for your final review. Now get out of here!”
Rothman’s typing picked up pace, a few keystrokes followed by several frantic deletions. Pia kept her seat despite Rothman’s final comment. She sensed that this was all the information she was going to get about her month’s elective at the moment, and it wasn’t much. Inwardly, she shuddered a little. She had expected to be working on some aspect of Rothman’s salmonella research as she’d done in the past. Tissue culture was a new discipline for her and what she was being tasked to do sounded like an entire Ph.D. project, not a month’s assignment. She was going to need a lot of help from Rothman and from the other technicians, especially Nina Brockhurst, whose job it was to take care of the physical plant of Rothman’s organ-growing experiments, which would include the baths. In the past Nina had openly resented Pia, claiming Rothman played favorites with her. Pia had taken the situation in stride as she knew there was always intrigue when people were forced to work together, especially when the boss’s signals were so hard to read.
But whatever the workload and her colleague’s demeanor, Pia knew she was going to find the month fascinating. Even if the fluid bath assignment wasn’t, on the face of it, very exciting in and of itself, it was still vital experience she would be gaining, learning the basic techniques for taking care of newly created organs, a key steppingstone in the journey from studying organogenesis in mice to studying it in people. Most important, the work was in the stem cell arena: the place she believed she really wanted to be.
Pia coughed again, this time into the tissue that she had in her hand. Rothman’s face reappeared around the side of his Mac. His expression was one of surprise that Pia was still there.
“I went to see the mother superior at the convent last night,” she said. “I told her about my not wanting to go to Africa.”
“Good,” Rothman said simply. His face disappeared. The typing recommenced.
“She was nice about it, but I could tell she was not happy.”
“That’s her problem, not yours. You’ll be doing a lot more of God’s work here in my lab than going to any godforsaken part of Africa.”
“She said she did not want to be repaid.”
“Good for her. So don’t.”
“I think I should. Are you still willing to cosign for a fifty-thousand-dollar loan?”
“I am, but I think you’re crazy. She doesn’t want to be repaid, or so she says. Save your money.”
“She used the word ‘betrayal,’ ” Pia said. She knew she was distorting the reason the mother superior had chosen to use the word, but the fact that she had used it at all still bothered Pia.
Rothman gave a short, mocking laugh. “Betrayal! She’s just trying to foist some Catholic guilt on you, Pia. For chrissake, pay her the money if you need to and be done with it. I’ll have Marsha take care of it with my bank. As a fourth-year medical student, I’m sure your credit is adequate. Remember, it’s your life, not the mother superior’s. Now, get out of here and get to work.”
Pia got up and left Rothman to his typing. Passing Marsha, she thought about hitting the library. Her initial plan was to read everything on tissue engineering that she could get her hands on. She had no doubt it was going to be an overwhelming amount of information.
4.
