MIND FIELDS Read online

  Sandi glanced at the clock: 07:45. “Shit!” she shouted again. She jumped out of bed, still a bit disoriented from being torn out of her dream so abruptly. “Put up the coffee,” she snapped at Paul as she ran to take a quick shower.

  “You got it,” he said, turning to admire her shapely, young body. He liked that she preferred to sleep in the nude.

  Paul went to put some coffee in the Mr. Coffee machine, and pulled a couple of donuts out of the refrigerator. He looked around at the well-organized kitchen. He liked what Sandi had done to his life. Paul had bought the house on Maryland Avenue the year before he met Sandi. The small two-story row house was close to his biotechnology lab at Hopkins, and plenty big enough for his needs. He was young and the mortgage was a tough pill to swallow, but Hopkins had given him a pretty sweet deal to stay on after his graduation as the new biotech lab director for the nanotechnology project.

  He didn’t do much besides work and sleep that first year, and the place had been pretty much a mess all the time until he met Sandi. She was a grad student, and although he knew that it was frowned upon by the university, he couldn’t help himself. He fell in love the fist time he laid eyes on her. Fortunately, it was her final year, and he somehow had managed to restrain himself until she graduated. He called her the night of graduation and asked her out. She wasn’t too surprised. In fact the only thing that she was surprised about was how much she enjoyed his company. He was a different man outside the lab.

  He soon talked her into staying on at Hopkins to assist him in his research. Before long, they decided that she might as well give up her apartment, since she only went there to pick up the mail anyway. Nearly all of her time was spent either at the lab or at his house, but Sunday mornings were her special time. Sandi loved to get up early and sit on the porch out front sipping her coffee until the Sunday paper came. Hardly a car passed by that time of day, and the stillness of the morning was broken only by the paperboy riding past on his bike. She decided to buy herself a housewarming gift the day she officially moved in – a new Mr. Coffee coffeemaker. She’d had it with that instant stuff Paul seemed to accept for its convenience.

  “Coffee ready yet?” Sandi asked as she came into the kitchen rubbing her hair dry with a towel.

  Paul smiled as he nodded toward the fresh pot of coffee on the counter.

  Chapter three

  Paul and Sandi hurried into the auditorium at a few minutes after nine, and a much-relieved dean of graduate studies introduced Dr. Sandra Fletcher to the eager audience. Her presentation on organic nanobionics promised to turn the field upside down, and there were as many reporters present as there were scientists.

  Sandi felt the sweat bead up on her brow as she took the stage. She was accustomed to pressure, but not to crowds, and this crowd was intimidating. She shielded her eyes against the camera flashes coming from the press corps. The dean of grad studies at Hopkins had giddily leaked the story of Dr. Fletcher’s success to a reporter friend of his from the Baltimore Sun. The story made the front page of the Sunday paper, giving Hopkins the publicity that the dean had hoped for, but for which Sandi was not prepared.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she started out nervously, “thank you for coming today.” She wasn’t sure that she really meant it.

  The room darkened, and the DLP projectors lit up the screen that dropped down behind her. The Hopkins logo was emblazoned in the center of the screen.

  “Imagine a world without surgery. Not a world without the technology to perform surgery, but a world without the need to perform surgery. Imagine the ability to analyze and repair damage to the human body without making a single incision. Imagine the ability to build new body parts, completely compatible with their hosts, and assemble them inside the body. No pain, no rejection by the host, no recuperation time.”

  The first image appeared on the screen, a digital rendering of a miniature computer. “You are imagining a nanobot, a programmable computer about the size of a single human cell,” the image of the nanobot began to shrink and elongate, “one that can be programmed to mimic any cell function in the body, even one as complex as a neuron in the human brain. A group of these cells,” the video on the screen brought to life her description as several nanobots coalesced to form a brain, “can theoretically be built into a new body part, a bionic replacement for a damaged brain in this case. I refer to this as nanobionics.”

  As the lights dimmed, a forty-something year old man in jeans and a well-pressed plaid shirt slipped quietly into the auditorium, taking a seat in the last row of the upper left corner of the room. He pulled his Orioles cap down slightly in front, and nestled inconspicuously down into his seat. JT Anderson had been a campus prodigy himself here a couple of decades back. His early work on nanotechnology proved to be the breakthrough that catapulted the application of silicon-based nanobots from the lab to the hospital, making the procedure clinically viable. He had anticipated the breakthrough early enough to leave Hopkins and start his own private lab. When the patents came, he owned them outright, and he became one of the wealthiest men in the country in a few short months. The Baltimore Nanotechnology Institute (BNI) quickly dwarfed Johns Hopkins in both name and wealth, a fact resented by more than a few at the university.

  He smiled as Dr. Fletcher continued. “As most of you know, the groundbreaking work in nanotechnology was done right here in Baltimore about a decade ago. The first nanobots were constructed of a silicon-based material. They were essentially miniature computers programmed to perform a single task. The first clinical use, of course, was in the treatment of vascular disease. The nanobots were injected through a catheter, which was threaded up through the arteries until it approached the area of the blood clot. The bots were then injected directly into the area of the clot and were programmed to dissolve it by releasing an enzyme that interacted directly with the clotted blood.”

  A classic video clip of the first successful case graphically displayed the clearing of a clogged blood vessel.

  “The problem with these early nanobots was that they were foreign particles within the human body. If not removed, they could cause severe host rejection reactions or they could get caught up in the kidneys, resulting in renal failure. This is where the work of Dr. Paul Hingston revolutionized nanotechnology.” She smiled at Paul, who was sitting in the front row. “The brilliant work by Dr. Hingston, done right here at Johns Hopkins, led to the technique we now use to manufacture organic nanobots. Human cells are grown in culture, and then the DNA is removed. This creates a ready supply of blank cells that can be custom tailored to any task by introducing designer DNA strands created in our lab. The cells can then be programmed to turn certain DNA sequences on or off, causing them to differentiate into different types of cells designed to perform different tasks. In effect, Dr. Hingston created a programmable single-cell computer.”

  “Organic nanobots degrade naturally within the body much like many other organic cells do, without causing any damage to the host, and since they can be tailor-made for each host, the risk of rejection is minimal. The big problem with these organic bots is that they have a life of fifteen to thirty minutes once within the host before they start to break down. This short life severely limits their usefulness. Therefore, medical science has continued to employ inorganic bots for many clinical procedures, despite the expense and potential dangers that accompany them.”

  Up until now all the information Sandi presented had been a review of the last fifteen years of advances in nanobotic research. The grad students in the audience were getting antsy, but Sandi was keenly aware that the reporters in the crowd knew virtually nothing of nanotechnology, other than for the propaganda stories leaked by BNI periodically to push up the price of their stock. It was critical that they understand the basic principles of nanobotics if they were to grasp the true significance of her work, and so she had led them gingerly up this path with a des
cription that was as basic as she could muster up.

  Sandi Fletcher took a deep breath. “And now, this is what I think you’ve all been waiting for.” A pair of video clips began to play side by side on the screen behind her. “On the left is a clip of a clot-busting organic nanobot treatment, and on the right a clip of a similar procedure using the new type II organic bots. The video clips displayed the bots being injected via an angiocatheter just upstream from an arterial clot. Both videos showed time-accelerated views of the clots dissolving and restoring blood flow through the previously blocked artery. As the video clips proceeded, the vessel on the left remained unchanged, with the clot dissolved, but the blood flow still blocked by additional clots further along the artery, while the video on the right showed blood flow through the artery continuing to be restored as the additional clots were sequentially dissolved by the nanobots.

  “As you can see, the new type II bots continue working long after the original type I bots have died. We have synthesized a new membrane stabilizer that extends the life of these type II bots for days within the host body, and we are working on new techniques that could extend them for years. This longer life not only allows them to function longer, but because we have so much more time to work with, they can be injected through a peripheral vein in the arm, and programmed to become active when they reach their target site. The procedure is safer, quicker, cheaper, less painful and more effective. It will eliminate the need for inorganic bots as they are used today.”

  The academicians in the crowd nodded in admiration, while the press corps feverishly took notes and photos.

  “With these long-life nanobots, we now hope to create bots that can perform many other tasks within the human body, tasks that take longer than simple clot-busting. These new bots could theoretically be programmed to repair any damaged organ in the body without ever opening up the patient. The implications are staggering. This will be the next revolution in medical care.”

  JT Anderson listened intently to Dr. Fletcher’s presentation. As he watched her speak, the passion in her voice reminded him of himself at the same stage in his career. The thirst for knowledge had been unquenchable in those days, but had long ago been overshadowed by the thirst for power. He had a knack for seeing things in a different way than most people when it came to science, and the aptitude to see those things long before anyone else. He was here to see if there was more to nanobionics than even Dr. Fletcher herself realized, and he was not disappointed.

  Dr. Fletcher’s animated presentation explained the basics of nanotechnology so clearly that even most of the reporters in the hall could understand. As the lights brightened and the screen retracted, she received a standing ovation from Paul, who knew that she had brought their lab work into the public eye in a positive light, the kind of enlightenment that was needed for a scientist to gain public acceptance. The undercurrents created by rumors about the use of nanotechnology to somehow transform humans into machines and dehumanize our species threatened the future of the field, but Paul was sure that her presentation today had derailed much of the concern. He joined her on the stage for the photos and interviews that followed. JT Anderson slipped out the back and waited in his late model Ford for the parking lot to empty out.

  As the last of the crowd left, Paul took Sandi in his arms and held her tight. “What a rush, seeing you up there like that. You were awesome.”

  Sandi smiled. It wasn’t hard to please Paul, at least not for her, but she too knew that the presentation had gone well. She was as pleased as she was relieved that it was over.

  “Let’s go celebrate. How about a couple of beers and a bucket of mussels down at Bertha’s?”

  She frowned. “How about a picnic in the back yard? You pop down to Lexington Market while I go home and take a nap.”

  “Deal.”

  He took her hand, and they headed toward the door at the back of the auditorium. The door opened just as Paul was reaching for the handle. The man in the Orioles cap smiled and held out his hand. It startled Paul and Sandi for a second, but up close his outfit wasn’t much of a disguise.

  “Hi. I’m …”

  “JT Anderson,” Paul finished the sentence, as much with admiration as disdain. Although Anderson’s ethics were not held in very high regard at the university, Paul envied his success. It was tough getting by on an academician’s salary in a big city, and he always harbored a bit of resentment at the fact that the fruits of his labors would belong to the university no mater how great his successes.

  “Right,” said Anderson, taking off the hat. “Not much of a disguise, huh?”

  Sandi laughed. “All you could afford?”

  He just shook his head and smiled. He couldn’t help but notice that Paul was still holding her hand. “I see that I’m interrupting. Let me get right to the point. Would you like to sit for a moment?” He motioned to the back row of seats in the auditorium.

  “Thanks,” Sandi said, shaking her head in the negative, “but I’m too pumped. I’ve never talked in front of that many people before, and now…well, it’s not every day that I get to meet the richest man in the world.”

  “Eighth richest,” he corrected. “All right then, I’ll be brief. I want you to come to work for BNI.”

  Sandi started to decline his offer, still altruistic in her academic endeavors, but Anderson waved her off. “Both of you,” he added motioning to Paul as well. “You’ll have your own lab of course, and whatever you need. I’ll give you each a million a year for starters, as well as stock options. You’ll have complete freedom to pursue your nanobionics research without the constraints of academic regulation or budget crunches. I’ve been there and I know what it’s like.”

  He could still see the doubt in her eyes as she looked him over. “Look, I know what people here say about me, but with rare exception it’s always out of jealousy. I am first and foremost a scientist. I did what I did for scientific freedom as much as I did for money. If I had to work within the constraints of the university system, thousands more would have suffered before nanobot therapy was available for clinical use. BNI is a scientist’s dream.”

  Sandi was speechless. It was a tempting offer, but she was just making a name for herself in academics. He stood for everything that she was against in science. She didn’t want to privatize her work; she was doing it for the public good, not for the highest bidder. “Thanks, Dr. Anderson,” she said looking him straight in the eye, “but no thanks.”

  Paul was flabbergasted. He’d been struggling to make ends meet for years. Sure, the work at Hopkins was exciting and he was proud to be a part of such a prestigious institution, but this was J.T Anderson, for God’s sake. An opportunity like this usually comes around never in a lifetime for most people, once in a lifetime for the luckiest amongst us, and it was about to walk out that door. He grabbed her arm. “Sandi!” He turned toward Anderson. “Could you excuse us for a moment?”

  Anderson nodded, and Paul pulled Sandi outside the door to talk in private.

  “Look, Sandi, I know how you feel about BNI, but think about this, would ya?”

  “What’s there to think about, Paul? We’re on top of the food chain now. There’s no place better than Hopkins. We’ve got all the support we need right here. That’s how we got to this point in the first place. Do you really want to spend your time answering to a board of directors and stock holders?”

  “All the support we need? Are you blind? I know that you’re still pretty naïve when it comes to the business side of biotech, but look around you. We get by with generation-old equipment that’s barely adequate to run our experiments, and it’s a fight to get the grant money even for that. Anderson is giving us the opportunity to work with state of the art stuff.”

  “Yeah, but Paul…”

  “Listen, I’m just asking you to think about it, that’s all. If we say no now,
Anderson walks out that door and with him goes a once in a lifetime opportunity. Just give it a day. Sleep on, OK? For me…for us.”

  “Well…” she hesitated.

  “Thanks. It’s the right decision, you’ll see.” Paul turned back toward the door.

  “Hey,” Sandi grabbed his arm. “I said I’d think about it.”

  Paul nodded and smiled at her. They walked back in to the auditorium.

  JT Anderson saw the hesitation in Sandi’s eyes. “I know it’s a big decision. Why don’t you sleep on it? Here’s my card.”

  He handed them a business card and tipped the bill of his baseball cap ever so slightly. “Great work, Doc.”

  Sandi couldn’t help the smile that crept across her tense lips. JT Anderson could be very charming. She found herself liking him in spite of her desire not to. She nodded and walked out the door.

  “Thanks, JT,” Paul said reaching out to shake Anderson’s hand. “You’ll be hearing from us real soon.” He hesitated briefly, and then hurried off to catch up with Sandi.

  Paul could hardly contain his excitement. He loved working at Hopkins, and had never really thought about doing anything else, but ever since JT Anderson approached them his mind had been racing at the possibilities. He led Sandi out of the red brick building holding her briefcase in his right hand and her hand in his left. The fragrance of summer was in the air. School had been out for about a week, and the campus was quiet. Paul loved the solitude that followed the hectic academic year. The sun peeked through the tall trees that lined the walkway to the faculty parking lot behind the auditorium.

  He was trying desperately to think of a way to sway Sandi’s mind, but couldn’t find the words. The silence between them seemed to be building a barrier that was getting thicker by the minute, and he decided to start on neutral ground.