Medusa

“Did you use the same search procedure for the sea star?” Gamay asked.

“Essentially. We found fragments of an unknown specimen not far from the Harbor Branch dives, did a habitat profile, and, as that TV chef says, Bam! We found whole sponges that also contained the cancer-killing chemical.”

“Does the star’s potential live up to its beauty?” she asked.

“The Harbor Branch specimen produced a chemical dozens of times more potent than the most powerful drug. The star is almost twice that strong.”

“Do I detect a note of smugness in your voice, Dr. Mayhew?”

The scientist widened his mouth in a smile that for once did not look pasted on his face.

“We’ve got a long slog ahead of us before we can license the chemical to a pharmaceutical company, which would take the compound through clinical tests. We have to find a way to produce the chemical in quantity. Harvesting sponges in the wild isn’t feasible economically or ecologically.”

“I’m sure you’ve looked into raising sponges through aquaculture,” Gamay said.

“We’re researching that possibility. Better still would be culturing the microorganisms that produce the chemical. That would support our ultimate goal of synthesizing the chemical for wider distribution.” He shrugged. “First, we have to figure out how it works.”

“You have your job cut out for you, Dr. Mayhew.”

“True, but the potential rewards are mind-boggling. Ocean biomedicine is expected to be the greatest source of pharmaceuticals in the future.”

Gamay cast her eyes around the lab.

“What’s in the other tanks?” she asked.

“More sponges, different varieties. Each specimen has its own chemical characteristics. We’re looking at cures for a host of human ailments. For instance, we’ve got corals that produce potential antibacterial and antiviral agents, and painkillers many times more powerful than morphine but without addictive qualities. The possibilities are endless.”

Mayhew attempted to move the tour along.

“I’m a bit puzzled,” Gamay said, subtly resisting the push of his guiding hand. “I’m sure I read on your website that you were doing research on other invertebrates. I haven’t seen any species of Cnidaria.”

The question seemed to catch Mayhew by surprise. He dropped his hand from her elbow and glanced reflexively at the door to a walled-off section of the lab.

“Jellyfish? Well . . .”

Mayhew may have been an accomplished scientist, but he was an amateur at cloak-and-dagger. Gamay’s eyes followed the direction of his revealing glance, and she gave him her most charming smile. Taking him by the arm, she urged him toward the door.

“I’ll bet you forgot,” she said.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s . . . We don’t like to disturb them.” He was folding under her unrelenting gaze. “Well, I suppose it won’t do any harm.”

He opened the door and ushered Gamay into a room that was dark except for the light emanating from a tall, cylindrical transparent plastic tank four feet across and eight feet high.

The light came from a dozen or so jellyfish, each about the size of a cabbage, that glowed with pulsating blue lights. They were in constant motion, moving from the bottom to the top of the tank in a graceful, hypnotic underwater dance.

A figure on a ladder, bending over the top of the tank, turned toward their interruption. The unearthly light revealed the face of Dr. Be

“Dr. Mayhew, I didn’t expect-”

“I leaned on Dr. Mayhew to show me this part of the lab,” Gamay explained. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Be

“Not at all,” Be

Gamay’s eyes took in Be

“In all my years of diving,” Gamay said, “I don’t think I have ever seen anything this beautiful.”

“Or as deadly,” added Mayhew, who had come up behind her. “The medusae in this tank produce a toxin that would put a cobra to shame.”

Gamay dug into her memory.

“This is a box jellyfish, isn’t it?” she asked.

“That’s right. Chironex fleckeri, the sea wasp. There have been almost one hundred recorded deaths from its sting, which can kill a human being in under three minutes. I suggest that we stand back and give Dr. Be

Dr. Be

To Gamay’s surprise, the jellyfish didn’t shy away from the net but clustered closer to it, making it easy to snag one and transfer it to a beaker. In the process, the color of the jellyfish deepened and the pulsating became more frequent, as if they were agitated.

“I’ve never seen jellyfish act in that fashion before,” she said. “They’ll usually try to avoid any threat they perceive.”

“Jellyfish are predators,” Mayhew said, “but most species simply drift around, encountering their meals quite by chance. The eye in jellyfish is more acutely developed, which means it can see rather than sense its prey. Combined with its jet-propulsion capabilities, a jellyfish actually can chase down its intended meal.”

Slowly shaking her head, Gamay said, “I’m not sure I understand. You said ‘most species.’ Didn’t you say these were box jellyfish?”

Dr. Mayhew realized that he had said more than he had intended.

“I misspoke a moment ago,” he said. “Actually, it’s closely related to the sea wasp, but more highly developed and aggressive.”

“I’ve never seen a sea wasp quite that color,” she said.

“Nor I. We came up with all sorts of fanciful names before settling on blue medusa.”

“What is their potential pharmaceutically?”

“We’re in the early stages of study, but the chemical it produces is far more complex than anything we’ve encountered. Experimenting with this delicate creature is like riding an untamed stallion.”

“Fascinating,” Gamay said.

Mayhew glanced at his watch.

“Thank you, Dr. Be

Gamay offered no resistance as Mayhew guided her out of the room and back into the main lab. He showed her some other species under study, then they left the resource-cultivation building and walked a short distance to another cinder-block structure.

This lab had fewer tanks than the first one. Ocean scientists like to distinguish between wet labs, where specimens are housed and prepared, and dry labs, where computers and sensitive analytical instruments are kept. This was both, Mayhew explained. The wet part was where chemicals were extracted and placed with bacteria or viruses to see what the reaction might be.

They spent more time in this lab than the first one, and by the time Gamay was out of questions it was nearly midday.

“I’m as hungry as a horse,” Mayhew said. “Let’s break for lunch.”

The kitchen served up gourmet-quality hamburgers. Mayhew chatted nonstop about nothing in particular, and Gamay figured he was just stretching things out. After their long break, the tour continued to a third building, which contained almost all computers and no tanks.

Mayhew said the computers were matching chemicals to diseases faster than could be done by human beings. Gamay glimpsed Dr. Song Lee. Her eyes were glued to a computer.

The tour was over by midafternoon. Mayhew seemed relaxed for the first time since Gamay had met him. He excused himself, and asked if Gamay would mind if he didn’t accompany her back to the lodge.