I Became a Plague Doctor in a Romance Fantasy

68. Fleming, Alexander Fleming (3)

****

I stared at Amy. She was completely different from Istina. Amy was less thoughtful but made up for it by talking twice as much.

“Explain it to me: structure and function. The bacteria not growing around the blue mold on the culture dish is basically illustrating how the mold monopolizes resources that bacteria could have used.”

“Aha…”

“Do you get it?”

Amy nodded her head and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, scribbling something down.

“Just a moment…”

“So, you’re saying the mold produces a substance that kills bacteria in order to compete for resources?”

That’s right. Amy scratched her head.

“Yeah.”

“I understand the logic, but it feels like there’s a leap somewhere. There must be some big difference between mold and bacteria for this to work.”

The fundamental difference between mold and bacteria…

Actually, the reason mold produces a substance that kills bacteria without harming humans is because mold is more similar to us than bacteria. Mold and humans are eukaryotes while bacteria are prokaryotes. Penicillin interferes with the peptidoglycan cell wall synthesis found only in bacteria, selectively killing them.

But how do I explain this?

Let me simplify it…

“Mold is way more complex than bacteria, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Just wait a bit longer.

We prepared a thousand culture dishes, so we should find at least one strain of the blue mold we’re looking for. Then we can produce penicillin.

And the next day…

Maybe because it was summer, both the bacteria and mold grew faster than expected. We gathered to search through the culture dishes for our target.

I hope we find it quickly. We have a thousand stacked dishes – it’s driving me crazy already.

“Looks like they’ve grown enough, right?”

“Yes.”

“All we need to find now are the dishes where bacteria didn’t grow or grew irregularly. Though it might not be there.”

If we’re unlucky, it might not be there at all.

Only a few species of blue mold among hundreds produce antibacterial substances. There’s a chance the specific strain isn’t even in this warehouse, right?

Me, Istina, and Amy…

The three of us started the selection process. Discard the strains without sterilizing power, separate those where bacteria grew less.

Looking at the stack of a thousand culture dishes made me sigh. Will this take an hour?

I glanced at Istina.

“Did we really have a thousand culture dishes in the lab?”

“Yes. We checked the warehouse too.”

That’s a lot.

Istina shrugged.

I never asked her to prepare a thousand. I didn’t imagine she’d make so many. Still, Istina is smart, as always.

It might be better to finish these kinds of tasks quickly when we have time. Right now, we only have one inpatient and no other assignments.

After sorting for quite a while, Amy raised her hand like a prospector finding gold.

“Is this it?”

I looked at the culture dish. It does seem like fewer bacteria grew around the mold.

“That’s probably it. Set it aside.”

“Yes!”

30 minutes later. 995 culture dishes were thrown into the trash with bleach.

We cultivated a thousand strains of blue mold from a thousand bread pieces, and only five showed any sterilizing power.

“Good job.”

“At least we found some.”

“What’s next?”

Now that we’ve found our golden goose, we need to wait for it to lay eggs. We need to cultivate these five penicillin-producing strains we just discovered.

“We’ll recultivate the confirmed sterilizing strains on fresh bread and repeat the sterilization tests.”

“Yes.”

“After the research presentation, I plan to distribute our sterilizing strains as widely as possible for further study.”

Istina tilted her head.

“Can’t we make money off this?”

“Would that really work?”

There are ethical issues, of course…

Even in my original world, it took 20 years to commercialize penicillin. Delaying medical progress just to make money 20 years from now feels wrong.

It felt like such a distant future.

Anyway…

Next step: We prepared five bread baskets, placing mold on top. It should spread naturally through the bread.

The five bread baskets now rested in the warehouse, containing only sterilizing strains. I placed them down and left the storage room.

“Let’s wait a bit. Good work everyone.”

“Thank you.”

Thanks to Istina preparing a thousand dishes, it seems we’ve accelerated the discovery of penicillin by several weeks.

I’ll have a lot to talk about at the symposium: our method of cultivating blue mold, verifying its sterilizing power, and plans to chemically extract penicillin.

****

The academy’s bakery.

Anabet watched the young professor visit again. Sometimes he came with students, sometimes in his surgical gown – a frequent visitor.

This professor occasionally bought cookies for his students. Sometimes they came along, and a few days ago, he bought a hundred morning rolls.

Anabet often wondered:

Why does he buy a hundred morning rolls? Surely not for himself.

Who could he possibly be giving a hundred rolls to?

As this continued for a few days, Anabet finally asked him directly.

“Professor? You must have good news if you’re buying so much bread.”

“Oh, I work at the hospital.”

“Ah, I see!”

The professor hurried off, as usual not saying much. She’d rarely seen him talk beyond exchanging a word or two with his students.

Anabet thought more about it. If he worked at a hospital, he must be a healer.

Could he be buying the morning rolls for patients or hospital staff? That would make sense.

Maybe he’s distributing them to busy hospital workers who miss meals, or to the poor who fall ill from hunger.

Though she didn’t ask specifically…

Since he said he worked at a hospital, it must be bread for sick people or those caring for them!

At any rate, whoever receives that bread must truly need warm bread.

Saying it was for the hospital, Anabet decided to pay special attention to the morning rolls.

With effort, can’t we change the world, even in small ways? The hundreds of morning rolls the professor buys must certainly improve the days of hundreds of people, even slightly.

Ding!

Today, the professor entered the bakery again. Anabet turned to check if the bread was ready.

Judging by the freshly baked smell and buttery aroma, it seemed to have just finished baking.

“Hello!”

The professor looked somewhat rushed, checking his wristwatch as he entered. Are there many sick people at the hospital today?

“Uh, a hundred morning rolls, please.”

“Your student isn’t coming today?”

“He’s also busy.”

Anabet carefully began placing the morning rolls into paper bags. With so many, it took some time.

She quickly handed them over.

“Here you go.”

“Ah, thank you for your hard work.”

“Yes!”

The professor left the bakery carrying an armful of bread. Only the warm scent of bread remained.

Anabet sighed in relief. He’s come again today, that professor. Thanks to him, our bakery sales have doubled.

I hope the people eating that bread are happy. I added extra butter especially for them. Maybe their day has improved just a little!

– That’s what Anabet thought.

****

The bread bag smelled strongly of butter.

I returned to the lab with the bread. Ten bags of ten each. I need to hurry back and start cultivating the mold since we’ve already found our target strain.

All we need to do now is cleanly isolate the strain and grow it properly. Then we can share it with interested professors at the next symposium.

They can either cultivate it further or conduct their own research.

That should do it.

Amy sat at one corner of the lab, peering at the blue mold through the microscope. While admirable, I doubt she’ll discover anything significant that way.

“Has it grown much?”

“Yes.”

Penicillin won’t be visible to the naked eye. While it’s good scientific practice, I wonder exactly what she’s observing.

“I’m looking at what you mentioned, Professor.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“You said mold has a more complex structure than bacteria, right? I’m looking at that.”

Right…

Fungi create complex structures like hyphae, mushrooms, and spores that allow them to survive in environments where bacteria can’t thrive.

“Can I eat a morning roll?”

“Hmm, not that. We don’t want to confuse the mold cultivation with food.”

Amy nodded.

“I see.”

“Where’s Istina?”

“She went to check the bread in the warehouse.”

She’s working hard too.

“Soon I’ll introduce the concept of antibiotics in class. You know about the upcoming symposium in Witbi, right? I’ll be presenting a paper there.”

“Yes.”

“Teacher Amy will attend too, right?”

“Ah, yes! I want to go!”

That’s settled. I need to prepare for the lecture, but I’m not sure if bringing the mold will work – the strain might not look nice by then.

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