World without Cats (19 page)

“Why me?” protested Noah. “There are dozens of capable scientists working on FHF right now. What makes you think that I would succeed where others have failed?”

“Because you’re good, Noah,” Vera responded firmly. “Because you’re considered by your colleagues to be one damned good molecular biologist. Maybe you won’t succeed, but, if the cats disappear, how will you feel ten years from now? Will you be asking yourself, ‘Could I have done something? Could I have saved the cats?’”

“That, lady, is a cheap shot.”

“Yes, I suppose it is—” Vera’s apology was interrupted by the chirrup of the telephone.

Noah looked at the mantle clock. “Eleven o’clock. Who the hell is calling at this hour?” He grabbed his phone. “Hello, Noah Chamberlin speaking.” Vera saw him start with surprise. Noah put his hand over the phone. “It’s that epidemiologist, Angelo Kraakmo. He’s in town and wants to have lunch with us tomorrow.” Vera shrugged and nodded her okay.

Angelo arrived at the café before Noah and Vera.
I hate it when people come late,
he thought, unmindful of the fact that he was several minutes early. When the couple did show up, on time, Angelo greeted them warmly.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

“Have you heard about the fleas?” asked Angelo, after they had settled into a booth.

“What fleas?” asked Vera and Noah in unison.

“In Los Angeles,” Angelo replied, casually hiding his burrito under a dome of salsa. “The fleas are attacking people and dogs.”

“Cat fleas?” asked Vera.

“Yes, all over the city. In fact all over Southern California. It’s on
The Los Angeles Times
website.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Vera, “Cat fleas aren’t too particular anyway. Most of the fleas found on dogs are actually cat fleas,
Ctenocephalides felis
, even in normal times. Some flea species are particular about their hosts, but not cat fleas. If they can’t find a cat, they go for what’s available—dogs, humans, whatever. With the cat population so decimated, we can expect a pretty awful flea problem everywhere. It’s strange that we are just hearing about it now. Oh, I know; it must be that the winter weather kept the fleas dormant. Now, with the temperatures warming up, I’m sure there will be more flea problems.”

“Oh, brother,” muttered Noah.

“I did not know that about cat fleas,” said Angelo. “I guess that shows once and for all that I am not an epizoologist.” He grinned. “I suppose you are wondering why I asked to meet with you today.”

Noah nodded.

Angelo looked Noah in the eye. “I would like to know if you have thought any more about possibly working on the FHF problem.”

Noah stopped chewing and, mouth open, scowled at Angelo, and then at Vera. “Did you two cook this up together?”

“Noah, I swear I had no inkling—” Vera began. She then stopped, and, like an opening fan, a grin spread over her face.

“What’s so damned funny?”

“It’s not funny at all,” she countered, “ironic maybe, but not funny. It seems that I’m not the only one who believes you could make a contribution to the FHF problem.”

“Absolut!” said Angelo. “Am I to understand that you two have, ah, discussed the prospect of Noah working on the virus?”

“Yes, we have,” Noah responded, “and I have told Vera that I am not interested.”

“Scandaloose,” said Angelo soberly. “Well, I am not one to try to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

They ate in silence awhile before Angelo remarked, “I read in the paper yesterday that the Pope is holding a weekly cat-blessing in the piazza of San Pietro.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Noah asked sharply.

“Just making conversation,” replied Angelo innocently.

“There must be something else that three intelligent people can find to discuss besides FHF and cats.”

“No, Noah,” Vera said. “These days intelligent, caring people can talk of little else.”

“That is correct,” agreed Angelo. “Perhaps, Noah, you underestimate the magnitude of the disaster. Do you think it is just cats that are affected? Man has been living with cats for at least ten thousand years, you know. Do you think that such a stable, intimate association can be broken quickly without having a major effect on mankind?
Homo sapiens
does not live in isolation. We say that no man is an island, yes? But no species is either. We humans depend on our cattle, our pigs, fowl, and yes, on our cats and dogs. And I say this even though I do not care for cats.” As he spoke, Angelo’s voice rose in pitch and volume.

Noah glared at Angelo. “I’m sure glad you are not one to try to pressure me into doing something I don’t want to do,” he grumbled. Noah rose and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Angelo and Vera staring at each other in astonishment.

At the institute, Noah stared at the vinyl tiles of the elevator floor.
Everybody I’m close to is pressuring me to work on FHF. Why don’t they mind their own business?
When the elevator stopped at the fourth floor Noah headed for his office.
I wonder if, somehow … What could I do, anyway?
Noah was halfway down the corridor before he looked up and realized he had gotten out on the wrong floor. He threw up his hands and moaned under his breath.

When he finally arrived at his office, Gary was waiting. “Doc, I’ve got some news.”

Noah looked up questioningly. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Guess who’s making alpha-globin RNA?”

Noah’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean
E. coli
WC1953?”

“Yep. No doubt about it. It hybridizes quantitatively with alpha-globin DNA.”

“So that altered promoter was the key.”

“Yes. We’re on track now. Tomorrow I’m going to try inserting the RNA into the FeSV chromosome.”

Noah stared at the enthusiastic, bespectacled youth. “Gary, sit down a moment. Let’s talk.” Gary deposited his lanky frame in a chair too small and regarded Noah expectantly. Noah pursed his lips. “Gary, what are you going to do with the FeSV once you get the globin RNA integrated?”

Gary shrugged. “You mean what will I do if there are no cats to test it on?”

Noah nodded.

“I don’t know. I’ve been proceeding one step at a time.”

“You know,” Noah commented, “one mark of a good scientist is to look forward. Good science is like good chess. You’ve got to look beyond the next move to the next and the next.”

“Hell, what can I do about FHF? That’s way outside my field.”

Noah said nothing for a moment. “Maybe not. Maybe the two of us could do something. You know that epidemiologist, Kraakmo, is in town. He came to ask me to work on FHF.”

“Really! But, Doc, you’re not a vet.”

“No, but I think the disease might be attacked with the help of the techniques and concepts we’ve been using with MEFA.”

“Where do I come in?” asked Gary.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure that I should start on FHF. But if I do, I may ask for your help from time to time. For now, go ahead and continue with the MEFA project. If you have to stop, you can work on your thesis—at least up to the work you’ve completed.”

Gary grinned. “Doc, you’ve made up your mind, haven’t you? You’re going tackle FHF.”

Noah displayed a worried smile. “God help me. I guess I am.”

Reprinted from
The
Bakersfield Californian,
June 27, 2020

Taft overrun with mice

The central valley town of Taft is battling a massive infestation of mice that began on Sunday, and has been worsening in spite of efforts to trap and poison the rodents. According to residents, mice are running thick in the streets and seem to be unafraid of people or dogs. They enter homes and commercial buildings through any available opening. Homeowners have been kept busy searching their exterior walls for access points. The mice are active mainly at night but are quite noticeable in the daytime also. Annie Vishay awoke in the middle of the night to find two mice scurrying across her bedspread. Townspeople have discovered mice in their linen closets, clothing drawers and beds. Of course the rodents are also routinely detected in kitchens and pantries.

Dr. Judith Manishevsky, field biologist at Cal State Bakersfield, estimates the average density of mice in the fields north and east of Taft at seventeen mice per square yard, or about eighty-two thousand mice per acre. Several species of Hawks have been seen feasting on the mice in the area. Farmers have also noticed increasing numbers of barn owls and ravens, but no cats. Some locals have been shooting the predatory birds, fearing that they are apt to do more harm than good. Many farmers have set zinc phosphate traps but have been unable to control the hordes of mice. Jim Pfeffer of Taft reports that his barley and alfalfa crops are total losses. He sets several dozen traps each night, but by the next morning, the traps are so full of dead mice that no more mice could possibly gain access to the poison. Several corpses of predatory birds have been found, apparently dead from eating poisoned mice.

Dr. Carmine Petrucci, population biologist at Cal State Sacramento, notes that such population explosions of mice in the valley are not uncommon, especially in the area around Buena Vista Lake near Taft. “However, the numbers are generally not of the magnitude we are seeing at this time,” he said. “The unusually wet winter and warm spring have resulted in abundant vegetation on which the mice are able to feed. As they use up the available food, the mice migrate until they find new forage.” Indeed, farmers in the area have reported them entering granaries and consuming or fouling large quantities of feed and seed grains.

The stench of mice, living and dead, as well as their excrement, is said to be overpowering, and many residents of Taft have taken to wearing cloth masks, a strategy that is not very effective, say the locals. Jamie Gunderson, age 12, a youngster with a keen business sense, has been buying up all the aerosol deodorant he can find in Taft stores and going from door to door selling the cans at a handsome profit.

Petrucci reports that the mouse explosion (mainly the common house mouse
Mus musculus
)
began at Buena Vista Lake in February. The mice began migrating from the lake when available food in the area ran out. The rodents then migrated southwest in the general direction of Taft. Bands of mice have also been seen moving north and east and are expected to reach Bakersfield by Friday. Engineers at the Department of Water Resources contacted by The Californian have expressed alarm at the potential for damage to the California Aqueduct.

Public Health authorities have issued an alert to all communities in the area, advising residents to seal up all openings greater than a half-inch wide. However, Petrucci points out that such precautionary measures may be fruitless as the mice are quite capable of gnawing through wooden walls.”

Two people were killed late last night when their SUV skidded on Interstate 5, forty miles south of Bakersfield. The car hit the center divider and overturned, crushing the occupants. The fatalities were a mother, 44, and daughter, 23, returning to Bakersfield from an overnight stay in Los Angeles. Names of the deceased are being withheld pending notification of next of kin. Witnesses reported that the highway was slick from the crushed bodies of mice that had been run over. The California Highway Patrol has posted signs limiting the speed on I-5 to 25 mph from Buena Vista Lake to Highway 58.

Biologist Petrucci notes that, although house mice are primarily vegetarians, when food is in short supply, they will eat anything, plant or animal. Mice that are killed on a freeway attract others who then come out at night to feed on the bodies of the dead ones. This, of course, increases the probability that more mice will be crushed by automobiles.

Petrucci believes that the mouse boom is probably not a direct result of the recent decimation of domestic and feral cats by the FHF virus, although their absence has probably aggravated the problem. Cats are only one of several environmental factors that tend to keep mouse populations in check. According to Petrucci, coyotes, in years past, also tended to help control such mouse explosions, but sheep farmers have long since killed off these animals.”

16
 

Noah paced the floor. “In order to design a protective immunizing agent, we absolutely have to be able to grow FHF in cell cultures.”

Gary threw up his hands. “Doc, people are trying to grow this son-of-a-bitch all over the world. What can we do that others haven’t tried?”

Because of its high infectivity and because the FHF virus harbored Ebola genes, the two scientists now carried out their experiments in the institute’s only BSL-3 facility. The lab had an anteroom that served as an air lock. All air leaving the lab was filtered by a HEPA system, and all manipulations were carried out within biological safety cabinets.