"Ken Jenks - Vectors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jenks Ken)

Trent rubbed his chin. "Well, we certainly have unique sanitary conditions here, but we have the world's most carefully cooked food, so that vector isn't likely."

"The incubation period for cholera is about 48 hours, so it was probably brought up by the crew of Atlantis. The whole crew had crawfish the night before launch, but boiling kills the bacteria." I frowned thoughtfully. "The World Health Organization documents on the Internet say there have been only two cholera outbreaks in the U.S. in the last century. One was in 1978, in Louisiana, where Bear comes from. The other was in 1973, in Port LaVaca, Texas."

"Bear? So maybe he wasn't just space sick."

"Right. I wanted to talk to you before confirming this with Houston. But I think Bear's been having diarrhea, which is a symptom of cholera, not space sickness."

"How sure are you of the results? Think about the implications if you're wrong."

I could think of little else. If I were wrong, doubt would be raised about in-space biological testing, with suspicion transferred to other forms of wet chemistry in microgravity. If we had to evacuate an astronaut who turned out not to be very sick, my career as an astronaut would be a short one. And I could lose a good friend. No astronaut ever wants to be grounded. "Not one hundred percent. To completely identify the organism, I'd need antiserum specific to Vibrio cholerae bacteria, and we don't have any on board. But if Bear doesn't get rehydration therapy immediately, he may die."

"What about infecting the rest of the crew?"

I thought for a moment then replied, "I don't think that's a danger. The organism only lives in water, and it can only be spread by contact, not through the air."

Trent looked guarded, thoughtful. "So we ought to quarantine him?"

"First, Houston will probably start Bear on rehydration, which won't hurt him even if he doesn't have cholera. But it's definitely their call. Second, we need to find the infection vector. If it wasn't Bear, it may be Kathy, or even me. A quarantine would be good, if it's possible, but that may be even harder on Bear."

Trent leaned back and gazed at me for a moment. "OK. Call Houston. But don't mention names. We've got to treat this as a private medical matter and respect Bear's privacy. There could be a lot of careers on the line here."

"Agreed, but there is something else you should know. Cholera is an internationally reportable disease. Eventually, someone will have to tell the United Nations."

Trent shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I wouldn't want to be on that committee, but I probably will be. Document everything."

I gave him a mock salute, "Yes, sir!"
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The flight surgeons in Houston took my input without comment. Then, twenty minutes later, I found myself on a private medical conference with Estelle Rogers, chief flight surgeon. Trent Miller listened silently from another headset on Calypso.

"Dr. Griffith," began the surgeon, "we're reviewing your notes from your lab work, and our technicians had a few questions. As you know, if this had happened on earth, we'd send another sample out to an independent lab for confirmation. That's not possible here, so I hope your professional pride will withstand the intense scrutiny you'll be under."

I cocked my head at the microphone, "What do you mean, Dr. Rogers?"

"I mean that we'll have to ask you to walk through every step in your laboratory procedure, with live video downlink and a real-time teleconference, to confirm your procedures, since we can't confirm your results by any other method."

I thought for a moment. "Dr. Rogers, I don't think we have time for that. If we have a person on board infected with Vibrio cholerae, that person may be dead within a few hours."

"Indeed, Dr. Griffith. If. So far, we only know about a suspicious organism in the lavatory."

I bit my lip. "I'll need to check with commander Miller about the video and telecon set-up."

"Very good, Dr. Griffith. Please make haste."
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While I floated next to him, Trent called Atlantis on the phone. The only method of secure communication between Calypso and Atlantis, the satellite telephones hadn't been planned when Calypso was designed, but communication technology had continued to advance long after Calypso's design was frozen in the '90's.

"Shackelford here," came the reply from the shuttle.

"James, it's Trent. We've got some bad news, and we wanted to discuss it with you before you heard it from Houston."