Chapter 14: Organic is Better
Evan’s lab was among a cluster of one-story, ivy-laced buildings that formed the Biology Department at Burrstone. In better years, the verdant ivy on the red brick was something to behold. But, the relentless drought had since shriveled the vines into the scorched terrain. In contrast, the greenhouse stood out like a fertile oasis. The bright yellow spatter of MIFF on the brick and brush outside added a touch more color to the place.
A week after visiting Terra, everything was in place for the Prime Slime plant study. Evan outlined several goals for the study. Their hypothesis was that organic plants are resistant and conventional plants are sensitive to Prime Slime. The first thing they had to determine was the infectious dose, or the number of bacteria needed to produce infection. Also, three MIFF doses needed to be defined: 1) that which prevented infection (preventive dose), 2) that which cured existing infection (therapeutic dose), and 3) that which was toxic to plants (toxic dose). The preventive dose is generally lower than the therapeutic dose, which is preferably lower than the toxic dose. For a drug to be useful, the effective dose (in prevention or therapy) must be measurably lower than the toxic dose. The space in between is called the therapeutic window, which defines the range of safety for a drug.
The scientists were eager to test their newest MIFF formula. Since their last fiasco, Dexter and Terri developed a new method that reduced the MIFF smell considerably. It made all the difference, because now they could spray freely without disturbing others. Any toxicity inherent in the stink was removed as well, conceivably improving the therapeutic window.
Early on a Saturday morning, the three scientists made their final preparations. Experiments on this scale required significant time and effort, so Evan was relieved to have quality help. In fact, it was amazing how well they worked together. In a relatively short time, everything was in place and ready to go. Only the Guinea pigs were missing, which were George’s plants.
Like clockwork, George and his farmhand arrived from New Jersey. They drove up in an old VW bus filled with vegetation, and pulling a large wagon bursting with foliage. Adding to the spectacle, the vehicle was painted bumper-to-bumper with psychedelic flowers. Across the side of the bus was written “Flower Power” in large multicolored letters. The brown backdrop made it even more conspicuous, like a flashback from the 60’s.
This magic bus towed a very valuable cargo. Both organic and conventional plants were provided, matched for size and kind. The conventional plants were purchased from the farm adjacent to Terra. Though they were labeled accordingly, George Green could tell them apart easily.
Indeed, George was not happy about buying such inferior merchandise. Never in a million years would he purchase conventional plants, especially from his middling neighbors. However, it was a necessary sacrifice to prove the superiority of the organic method. George would not set foot on their toxic farms, so he sent his Mexican farmhands to make the purchase.
George had a very low regard for the neighboring farm. Its scam was to steal customers away from Terra by selling similar products at much cheaper prices. Yet, to the discerning customer, there was no comparison.
This second-rate farm was a major thorn in George’s side. The seed from their GMO crops wafted their way into Terra’s gardens, and had to be carefully removed, like weeds, every season. Horrible smells from their pig pens and chicken coops drifted over and detracted from the serenity. In contrast, manure management and compost production was an art form at Terra Organics. This might have been Evan’s experiment, but George Green felt he had much to gain in the contrast.
It was not a perfect experiment—no biological trial ever is—but it would provide useful information. The fact that the farms were juxtaposed implied that the soil was identical. Yet, over time, topsoil from a conventional farm degrades. The use of commercial fertilizer, weed killers and pesticides turn it into a nonliving, non-arable, toxic waste dump. In contrast, the organic farm enriches its topsoil. It is a haven for vitality, where all life forms—plants, bees, worms, microbes, cattle and people—thrive.
While unloading the fresh flowers to the lab doorstep, Terri greeted them warmly: “Welcome to Burrstone!” she said enthusiastically. George took her hand and soaked up some of the warmth. After a protracted pause, Terri introduced George to Dexter, who also could not hide his excitement.
“Greetings,” Dexter offered. “It’s an honor!”
“Nice to be here,” George answered, as they shook hands.
George noticed the displeasure on Evan’s face as he came into view. Evan could have done without the psychedelic bus. He was already under enough scrutiny. George also failed to mention the farmhand he brought along.
“This is my co-worker, Cal Radi”, George said. “Cal’s been with us a long time.” Cal, a short Mexican donning a red bandana above his jet-black ponytail, nodded quietly. Weathered from the sun, only his bandana stood out from the parched background.
Together they quickly brought in the plants. Eventually the entire lab was lined with vegetation. It was a thing of beauty, with all the different varieties and colors: begonias, peonies, roses, pepper plants, ferns, chamomile and more. Plants were placed a foot apart on the bench tops, each organic plant placed next to its conventional counterpart. Underneath was a strip of absorbent paper soaked with MIFF to prevent the spread of disease. The faint smell of sulfur lingered, but nothing like before. The new MIFF mixture was decidedly easier on the nose.
Evan and company were taking no chances. They had a combination lock installed to restrict entrance to the lab. UV lights were aimed at all surfaces. MIFF spray bottles were placed on every bench top. As a precaution, Prime Slime was kept under lock in the freezer and only Evan held the key.
When all was ready, Evan unlocked and opened the freezer door. Dexter donned a pair of cryoprotective gloves, approached the freezer and opened a frigid drawer, releasing a puff of cold air. He pulled a rack of tubes from the deep cold and placed it on top of the MIFF drenched paper, next to a lab sink. The farmers watched hypnotically as Dexter pulled out two of the tubes and quickly placed the rack back in the freezer and relocked the door.
The tubes were composed of clear glass, so their contents were visible. After thawing under warm water, the thick, murky liquid inside signified that hundreds of billions of bacteria were present. For purposes of the study, the thick suspension had to be diluted to a less concentrated form. Dexter removed roughly a drop with an automated syringe, placed it in a vial of saline, and mixed the contents. There were still a billion organisms present in the diluted vial, and it still appeared turbid. From that vial, another drop was placed into a new sterile tube of saline. This tube now contained roughly 10 million bacteria, as evidenced by only a slight cloudiness. Each dilution contained 100-fold fewer bacteria than the prior dilution. In this manner, Dexter produced several dilutions, from many billions down to just a few bacteria. All the caps were secured to avoid contamination and spillage.
The dilutions were made for a reason. They would be used to determine the minimum number of bacteria needed to produce disease. Some germs need to be present in the billions to cause disease, others in millions or thousands, while some very virulent pathogens required only a few organisms to sicken or kill their host; the smaller the number needed to produce disease, the more dangerous the bug. In contrast, Terri’s Sluggo strain could not produce disease in plants even when in the billions.
The degree of dilution was marked on each tube with a black lab pen, and a set of plants was inoculated with the contents of each tube. Dexter, Terri and Evan applied a specified amount on several leaves of each plant with a small brush. The plant pots were labeled accordingly. Since each plant had many leaves, several experiments were possible with each plant, and each dilution could be tested in triplicate.
Some plants were also sprayed with different MIFF doses before challenge with Prime Slime, to gauge the protective dose.
Inoculating all the plants took a good hour. Afterwards, they removed their protective disposable garments and placed them in the red bag, along with the used glassware, brushes and disposable plastic ware. Then they washed their exposed skin thoroughly with an antiseptic and wiped the bottom of their shoes with MIFF before exiting the lab.
As Prime Slime did its thing, they made off to the Social Hall to grab some lunch, just two blocks from the lab. Like most cafeterias, it offered an assortment of junk: pizza, hot dogs, burgers, fries, chips, candy and soft drinks.
After a quick inspection of the menu, George protested: “You expect me to eat this crap?”
Dexter looked around the room, as if for the first time.
“Not to worry,” Terri said, as she pulled out an avocado sprout sandwich on German dark bread. “I don’t eat this crap either.” Dexter wondered what all the fuss was about as he inhaled a super-sized coke and two pieces of pizza. Evan had a hamburger without the bun or fries, and Cal downed two bags of tortilla chips and a candy bar. Terri and George looked at each other smugly.
An hour or so later they returned to the lab, and were stunned by what had occurred. As predicted, all of the inoculated leaves had wilted on the conventional, but not on the organic plants. Even the diluted samples, with just a few organisms, caused disease on the conventional plants, though it took longer to manifest. Without a doubt, they were dealing with a frank pathogen: a little Prime Slime went a long way. In contrast, all the organic plants stood tall, except for a spot or two on the heavily inoculated leaves. By nightfall, thick slime encased the lifeless, wilted conventional plants, and by morning, they were completely devoured. Next to each slimy mess stood a beautiful, flowering organic plant. In all his years in the lab, Evan had never seen such a spectacle, or obtained such perfect results.
Conventional plants sprayed with MIFF also resisted the slime, even at very low MIFF doses and heavy bacterial challenge, indicating that MIFF was very effective at protecting against disease. The fact that a little MIFF could protect plants from Prime Slime, without toxicity to plants, was highly encouraging. However, heavy MIFF doses wilted the plants, so they also achieved the toxic dose. The therapeutic window was huge, because only a small dose of MIFF was needed. It indicated that MIFF would be cost-effective, with minimum environmental impact, and without an odor problem, which ensured its potential for commercial success.
No one expected to see such drastic differences so quickly. The specter was even more intense with the lights off. Conventional plants glowed brightly in the dark, but their organic counterparts were virtually invisible. Some of the organic plants glowed dimly at the inoculation site, but this disappeared overnight. In contrast, slime glistened for days on the conventional plants, or what was left of them. Clearly, the organic method made the difference.
George was the first to share his observations: “I could tell from the start. The organics were healthier and sturdier. Plants have immune defenses too.”
“I noticed that too,” Terri exclaimed.
“Apparently, healthy plants are not susceptible to Prime Slime, no matter what species or variety tested,” Evan concluded.
“Health repels and sickness invites decay,” George noted.
“Well put,” said Terri, with an inviting smile.
“Don’t overlook the power of MIFF,” Dexter chimed in. “Even sickly plants are protected with tiny doses. We’ve got a winner here.” Evan was tickled as well. He knew hospital administration would be pleased.
While everyone gawked at the spectacle, no one noticed that Cal Radi slipped one of the Prime Slime vials discarded in the red bag into his pocket.
“This proves the point I made earlier,” George continued. “When it comes to food quality, farmers are the real scientists. We provide perfect plants for perfect results in your experiments.”
“I think I get it now,” Evan responded. “Slime is not the bad guy. Rather, its role is to take down the bad guys.”
“Exactly!” George blurted, patting Evan on the back. “Prime Slime is not evil. Evil is about a lack of integrity. People who grow this shit are the evil ones. They’re the real slime.”
“The organic approach is nature’s real intention. The whole of western civilization is out of integrity,” Terri offered.
“Perhaps so, but genetics has its place,” Dexter insisted.
“Please explain” George responded, trying to be open-minded.
“For one, we could genetically modify plants to be resistant to Prime Slime.”
“But doesn’t slime play an important role?” George asked. “It exists to help recycle sick and dying plants and animals. Your genes would interfere with nature, and keep sick things from being susceptible to slime. What happens then?”
“Just because a plant is sick - or a human for that matter - doesn’t mean we should let it die.” Dexter retorted.
“Maybe so, but I’ll tell you where that has brought us,” George responded: “We have cultivated a world of sick food and sick people. That cannot be sustained.”
“Many of our plants and veggies are already genetically modified, and devoid of nutrients,” Terri added. “Just think about the sickness we’ve created; the lack of quality in our food, and the lack of health in our people.”
This did not resonate with Dexter, since he didn’t eat much green stuff anyway. But Evan was awakening to the concept of nutrition. He was listening intently.
“Perhaps some GMOs are safe,” George assented. “Still, I worry about big agribusinesses using it to control wealth. I worry about corruption and cutting corners, about lab accidents and unforeseen consequences. What happens when the technology gets into the wrong hands? I’m sure it has already. I think we’ve opened up a can of GMO worms.” Despite his frustration, George had a sense of humor.
“GMO foods undergo extensive testing to assure safety,” Dexter insisted. “Companies spend millions assessing toxicity and environmental impact. GM foods are regulated beyond measure.”
“We try to make informed decisions, but nothing is certain,” Evan added. “Maybe we are on the wrong track. I mean, just look at what happened in our lab, Dexter.”
Dexter was undaunted by the all eyes directed toward him: “Think about it: The outcome of this experiment could go two ways. We can use it to promote organic agriculture, or simply spray everything with MIFF and not worry about it.” The choice provided food for thought.
It wasn’t long before Terri responded: “Yet, if we continue down the conventional path, we’ll use up the arable land, increase toxic waste, fuel global warming, add to the burden of human disease, and eventually destroy the planet, MIFF or no MIFF.”
“MIFF could serve to protect our current food supply,” Evan argued. “Yet, organic farming appears to be the ultimate answer.”
George was mostly pleased with that logic, but he warned: “I can also foresee corporations exploiting MIFF to keep growing unhealthy plants.” Evan concurred silently.
“People are beginning to discern the difference in quality,” Terri asserted. “Did you know that chimps prefer organic over traditional bananas? They can instinctively tell the difference. In fact, they eat the whole organic banana with the skin on, but peel the non-organic bananas. Wild bees prefer organic flowers. And cows will eat organic grass right down to the nub, before they venture into non-organic pastures.”
“Is that so?” Dexter remarked with a passing interest.
“Let’s get back to the experiment at hand,” Evan suggested. “Today we gauged the infectious doses for conventional and organic plants, and proved our hypothesis. We also determined the preventive MIFF dose for conventional plants, which turns out to be very low. We also determined the toxic MIFF dose, which was comparatively high, suggesting a favorable therapeutic window. However, we did not determine the therapeutic dose. Next time we’ll need to infect the plants with Prime Slime and then spray the infected plants with MIFF to see if we can stop the spread of infection. Those experiments can get a little complicated, so a detailed proposal needs to be worked out.
“Each of us needs to think about designs for further experiments. Let’s make that a priority. George, can you continue to provide more plants for testing?”
“As long as you continue to reimburse the commune. We have mouths to feed.” He looked over at Cal, who sported a sheepish grin. His mind was elsewhere.
“No problem,” Evan assured him. “The hospital will pay handsomely for your flowers.”
George continued: “This experiment merely heightened my distaste for that dump of a farm next to us. Their synthetic chemicals, GMOs and animal stench have ruined my life. I hate to have to buy their crap, or support them in any way.”
“Yes, but now you can see their purpose for being.” Terri replied. “Their existence makes your farm look that much better, and the science that much stronger. By comparing identical plants on adjacent soils, no one can dispute the data.”
Staring into her eyes, George was overtaken by her wisdom, not to mention her beauty: “This is perfect: scientist and farmer working together.”
“We’ve certainly made some breakthroughs.” Evan assented, as he tried to reclaim George’s attention. “The evidence is quite clear. Still, more experiments are needed.”
“Testing will also help improve MIFF activity, which is our primary concern,” Dexter added.
“One problem,” Terri noted. “Now that we’ve sprayed these plants, they are no longer organic. Organic produce must be pesticide free.”
“Fortunately, only the conventional ones needed spraying,” George noted.
Suddenly there was a loud knock at the main entrance. Evan heard a familiar voice and opened the door promptly. Dr. Honcho stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the lab, absorbing the contrasting life and death that filled the room. Then he glanced over at the longhaired strangers. Quietly but firmly, he grabbed Evan by the arm and pulled him into the office. Behind closed doors, he let loose:
“Who the hell are these people, and why are you exposing them to that monster of yours?”
Evan took a moment to catch his breath and find his backbone:
“They provided the flowers for this experiment, sir, which allowed us to discover something very important today.”
“You’re pushing it, Lucian. I’m about to board this place up!”
“Their plants have provided an important piece of the puzzle. It turns out that organic plants are immune to Prime Slime, while conventional plants are readily killed.” Honcho was nonplussed:
“I want only authorized personnel in this lab! Do you hear me? We can’t afford to let anyone know what’s going on here, or help this bug escape again!”
“Yes sir, but we are making great strides to improve the MIFF formula. Notice that there’s hardly any smell. Plus, it’s amazing how little is needed to stop this slime. That’s a very good sign, both from the standpoint of safety and commercialization. Besides, these folks know next to nothing. They merely provided the plants.” It was a bit of a lie on Evan’s part, but he had to find a way to continue the experiments.
Honcho took note of the added safety features in the lab, and the MIFF-saturated absorbent paper below all the plant vases. He also noticed the lessoned smell. Having been in medicine for four decades, he knew that the biggest prizes involved the greatest risks.
“Be careful, Lucian! Your shadow falls on us all.”
“Yes sir, I know.”
“Report to my office tomorrow with an analysis of your work.”
“First thing tomorrow, sir!”
“And, keep the riffraff out of here!”
Meanwhile, George and Cal had picked up the vibes and made toward the door. Terri winked at George as they fled the lab.
Before leaving, Dr. Honcho greeted Evan’s students, admonished them to be extra careful, and wished them well in their studies. Once he departed, the scientists sprayed everything down, cleaned up the lab, and turned on the UV lights to sterilize the lab. That’s when Evan checked out as well.
The students returned to Evan’s office in the soothing AC to analyze the data. Dexter sat at the computer, while Terri read off the numbers. In the middle of the analysis, Dexter turned to Terri:
“You think the Mexican guy had any clue what was going on?”