Chapter 4

Bob Grange was of medium build. He had been a runner but had quit for no good reason. He now stretched, thought deep complex thoughts, and generally went through life in meditative contemplation. That's what he called it when asked, to everyone else it was a mindless fugue. He knew his friends thought him a tad bit strange, but what did he care? They knew nothing of inner truth. The oneness of the whole. Why just last night he and Linda had spent the entire evening discussing the total symmetry of a ring. They weren't different, others just had not seen the light. Inner peace escaped them, and that left them tense. What was this thing George and Harold were up to? The reactions Harold had faxed were simple chemical reactions that could be done catalytically, electrolytically, or biochemically. Harold had been so specific about low pressures and low power availability. Every time those guys called it was some weird project or another but this was the strangest. Even the temperatures were weird. All the way from -50oC to 700oC. What were these guys up to? Environmental cleanup? Maybe, but George was barely willing to recycle for money, let alone invest in something that merely made the acid rain less of a problem. Linda had bought the story whole hog. She had said, "Oh, how wonderful. George has finally come to his senses and used that wonderful talent to help the Hygeia." She liked to call the earth Hygeia to emphasize the total oneness of nature and the earth. Well at least Linda wouldn't be against helping those two. But it just didn't fit. George and Harold would be in it for themselves, not for the greater good and this project looked like it might do everyone some good: very, very, strange.

Well, make the call. "Hello, this is Dr. Bandor's Lab. We're busy right now. Please leave a message at the beep."

"Hi, this is Bob Grange. I am at 555-8644, extension 1745. Could Dr. Bandor please call?"

Just then the line clicked. "Bob, it's Emily. What can I do for you?" Bob had always been intrigued by this woman. He loved her smile, her eyes, both of them, and her body didn't hurt the entire package either. She always made him feel like she really cared for him although every advance had been rejected. She had a smile and intensity that told you she was constantly thinking. Even though he was never quite sure what she was thinking about. Every once in a while, he was sure it was what he wanted her to be considering, but it never seemed to be. They had gotten over the stilted conversations years ago when he had married Linda and the possibilities became limited. But he still wondered every time he saw her and her penetrating eyes and smile.

"I got a call from George Stone a couple of days ago. He is setting up a processing plant to remove sulfur dioxide and carbon dioxide from smoke stacks using bacteria. He asked me if I knew anyone who could advise him on the biochemistry." Smoke stacks. It must be in smoke stacks. Those temperatures and pressures couldn't be anywhere else.

"I thought George was selling stuff out of his garage. What's he doing working on environmental clean up?" Emily knew George from college and had never thought him a scientist. A capitalist pig yes, an environmentalist never.

"I don't know. Harold MacAnish and he came up with an idea. Harold, as always was too busy so George asked me if I knew anyone. I suggested you and George was enthusiastic." Bob was really just a middle man.

"Well, it sounds like an interesting idea." Emily loved new projects. The old ones were just a grind. The best part of any project was the first few days when you were grinding out the ideas. The actual work was always tedious and the writing excruciating. The worst was the rewrites when you were long since bored with the idea. "Do you have any specifics?"

"Harold faxed me a set of reactions and the operating conditions. I could fax them over to you and you could look them over." Bob really would have preferred to deliver them in person. He enjoyed the convenience of electronic transfer but seeing Emily would have made the drive worthwhile.

"Sure, we use the same fax line as for voice. It will pick up when you send it." Emily was hooked. She would get to the bottom of this once the specifics came in. Harold, Harold MacAnish was behind this. George would never have come up with something like this. Selling frozen guacamole in a corn chip cone would be a George idea; biochemically cleaning up the atmosphere definitely a Harold.

"Thanks Emily."

"Great to hear from you Bob. Let's have lunch."

"Bye."

The phone rang again in 30 seconds and the fax machine answered. The lab was trying to save money and only had one phone line. It was a royal pain. She would be calling a data base and no one could get to her. Well, such is life in public institutions working on grants. The fax machine started to spew paper and Emily watched in amazement. This plant certainly was going to reprocess some bad air in a bad environment. What? Now came the specifics. No power. No water. Low pressure. Well, actually high variation in temperatures and pressures. Wow! What were those two up to? She could definitely solve the problem, there were definitely organisms that could live in the environment and perform the chemical reactions. She was sure a lithotrophic bacteria could handle it. She might have to make a hybrid of an algae and a bacteria to provide nutrition and the enzymes but it was possible. Possibly a green algae and a thiobacillus linked together: What a great idea. This was a Harold project for sure. She would get to the bottom of this once and for all.

She picked up the phone and called Harold. "Harold? Emily Bandor, how have you been?" Harold was such a strange man. After that woman he had lived with so long had left him he retreated into himself and his work. Cute guy, pleasant, hard working, warped sense of humor, but he had never married, never done well after what's her name.

"Great, and you?" What did she want? Harold knew Bob was going to talk to her. Maybe this was just social. Yeah and other famous lines: The check is in the mail, I will respect you in the morning, I won't come in your mouth, and I am from the government and I am here to help.

"Bob Grange called me this morning about a project you and George are working on." Emily was twirling her finger in her hair.

"Oh, the BioAtmospherics work. Yes. George mentioned Bob might contact you." Good name for it thought Harold. He was a terrible liar and an even worse liar to women. They seemed to mysteriously cause him to confess long before he had actually done anything wrong. It kept him out of trouble but made him a terrible source for secrets. "What do you think of the idea?"

"Seems feasible. I think a lithotrope, possibly archaebacterium pyrococcus furiosus with a blue green algae could do the reactions you two suggest. Do you have samples of the emissions you want to process?" Emily was going to get it out of Harold. She knew what a push over he was.

"No, actually we were planning to simulate the emissions once we got a test organism." Harold could feel himself getting pulled out. He was going to cut the conversation if it got too far.

"Where are you planing to test it? If you two have funding we could test it in my facility." Emily wanted to keep these two on a leash.

"George is working on that right now." Quick, change the subject thought Harold. "If you make a hybrid how long will that take?"

"A few months to select out the clone of interest." Emily had lost him. "If we have to splice individual genes for your enzymes it might take longer. We also have to ensure any hybrids will only live in your facility. We will need to work in a specific nutritional requirement that will cause them to die out if not in your facility." This might be the hook she needed.

"Oh." Harold didn't want to tell her he was just going to release it willy nilly into the atmosphere and that he didn't want it to die out but rather to survive as long as possible. This metabolic requirement stuff had come in from the people who were afraid of new organisms taking over the world. Yeah, some bacteria that looks like dust is going to eat Manhattan like Godzilla. More likely leave a really disgusting bathtub ring. "We don't want it to have a metabolic requirement. We want it to thrive in the gas phase." Harold could feel the truth slipping into this woman's possession. He had to distract her.

"The gas phase? Harold, what are you going to do with this organism?"

Chapter 5

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