Super Genius DNA - Chapter 251: Cold Chain (3)
“Thyl… what?”
Professor Kim Gwang-Myung frowned.
“Thylakoids,” Young-Joon replied.
“Thylakoids…”
“Plant leaves and algae have an organelle called the chloroplast. This organelle is green, which is why plant leaves and algae are green. There is a net of tiny pie-like internal structures inside the chloroplast, which are the thylakoids,” Young-Joon said. “The membranes of the thylakoids are actively engaged in taking sunlight and converting it into energy. Plants and algae have been evolving this for 2.4 billion years, and it’s an incredible level of efficiency.”
“… Haha.”
Kim Gwang-Myung scratched his head.
“Um, what should I say… Doctor Ryu, solar cells that mimic plant leaves are called biosolar cells. Not me, but many scientists have already tried that.”
“And they weren’t very successful?” Young-Joon asked.
“That’s right. I don’t know much about thylakoids and whatnot, but trying to obtain electrons from the chloroplast, which is a type of protein in a cell, and storing them… That’s very difficult. It was almost impossible to combine a solar cell made up of inorganic materials with chlorophyll, which is a complex mass of organic matter,” Kim Gwang-Myung said.
Then, one of the professors who was hosting the seminar intervened.
“To add, Doctor RYu, the photosynthetic efficiency of plant leaves isn’t even that high. My lab studied that before, but we failed.”
“It’s not very high?” Young-Joon asked.
“The photosynthetic efficiency of a plant leaf depends on the wavelength of light and the concentration of carbon dioxide. It’s usually around five percent when measured experimentally, and the rest of the energy is either reflected or dissipated as heat.”
“That’s true if you just use the chloroplasts itself,” Young-Joon said. “Chloroplasts were originally a type of bacteria. They were living things before they got into plant leaves, so chloroplasts have tons of genes and biological metabolisms inside, most of them having nothing to do with absorbing solar energy. The cell membrane of chloroplasts and the cell wall of plant leaves reflect a lot of sunlight, so of course the absorption efficiency will be low.”
“Then what do you propose?”
“We only purify the chlorophyll molecules that cause electron transfer in the thylakoid membrane, which is inside the chloroplast,” Young-Joon said. “I think it’ll be a little difficult to do this in just any plant… We’ll probably have to take some unusual algae from the deep ocean and get the chlorophyll from there if we want to get close to one hundred percent efficiency.”
“…”
The professors were speechless for a moment.
Breaking the silence, Kim Gwang-Myung asked, “We’ll have to try it to find out, but is what you’re talking about even possible with current technology?”
“Maybe. There will be quite a lot of conditions to fulfill, starting with choosing the species of algae to purifying the chlorophyll, but… In other words, that’s all we have to do,” Young-Joon said. “Do any of the professors here want to give it a try with A-GenBio?”
* * *
Young-Joon, who came back to the company, met Park Joo-Hyuk.
“So you went to school to deliver a scholarship donation, but you ended up verbally signing a research collaboration agreement?” Park Joo-Hyuk asked.
“Not even an agreement. All we talked about is how we could work together and that I would give them a call,” Young-Joon said.
“Wow, you really like working, don’t you? You said you would be at Jungyoon University for thirty minutes to give your donation, and then you come out two hours later, saying that you’re going to build solar cells that generate electricity?”
“Anyway, write me a contract for that later. Also, did you hear anything from Director Kim about the Philistines?” Young-Joon asked.
“It’s the first I’m hearing of it.”
“Things like Philistines receiving funding for their research and development illegally, or acquiring strains illegally…”
“Nothing like that, but remember how you asked me to look into the law on how botulinum toxin is distributed in Korea?” Park Joo-Hyuk said.
“Yeah. You got something?”
“I found something interesting. Korea is one of the best Botox markets in the world; it’s the best Botox country in the world. How many Botox-related companies do you think there are in Korea?” Park Joo-Hyuk asked.
“Hm, overseas, the United States, China, Germany, and France have one botulinum toxin company each… Oh, and now one in Egypt. Anyway, there must be three or four companies in Korea,” Young-Joon said.
“I looked, and there’s nine.”
“Nine?”
Young-Joon was shocked.
“Yeah. There are four companies in Korea that have commercialized botulinum toxin, and there are five companies that have received permission to develop it.”
“That’s a lot, considering there are more botulinum toxin companies in Korea than all the foreign ones combined. Are the distribution and development processes being managed well?”
“About that part… There was a legal dispute between them recently,” Park Joo-Hyuk said.
“A dispute?” Young-Joon asked.
“Two companies, called Woongdam Pharmaceuticals and LifeToxin, that were fighting over botulinum toxin.”
Although they weren’t like A-Gen or A-Bio, both were fairly large medium enterprises. They both had substantial drug pipelines, so it wasn’t like their livelihood depended on botulinum toxin.
“They’re pretty big companies. Did they fight about patented technology or something?”
“The very first company to have used botulinum toxin in Korea is LifeToxin. Woongdam Pharmaceuticals started after them. But botulinum toxin is a toxin purified from a strain called Clostridium botulinum or something, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But they’re fighting about where they got that strain. Woongdam Pharmaceuticals claims that it’s their bacteria that they isolated on their own, while LifeToxin is claiming that they stole their strain…”
“Are you serious right now?! Young-Joon shouted all of a sudden.
“Shit, you scared me. What’s the problem now? What part made you mad?” Park Joo-Hyuk asked.
“I don’t care if LifeToxin is right or Woongdam Pharmaceuticals is right. Are you saying that the government can’t control the storage, cultivation, and transportation of Clostridium botulinum, one of the worst bacterial strains alive?”
“That’s the part you’re mad about…”
“Well, the bacteriaitself is pretty common, since you can find it in things like spoiled canned goods and sausages that were sealed without sterilization. I don’t know how much of it exists in the country, but the wild-type strain is only in trace amounts and doesn’t pose much of a risk due to environmental conditions. But isolating it, getting it as a cell line, feeding it and mass-producing it to produce botulinum toxin is completely different.”
“Hm.”
“If Woongdam Pharmaceuticals had isolated it from nature themselves, they would have filed a report with the KCDC when they obtained the cell line, so I don’t see how they can get into a legal battle…”
“I saw the report, and it was just a piece of paper, very simple. All they wrote was that they obtained it, and that was it.”
“Oh my…”
Young-Joon put his hand on his head, as if he had a headache.
“It’s a new, extremely toxic strain, and they didn’t use NGS (Next Generation Sequencing) to decode its entire genome or write up a management or disposal plan?”
“That’s pretty strict for organisms imported, but the regulations are very lax for domestic organisms,” Park Joo-Hyuk said. “And that’s why LifeToxin is accusing and criticizing Woongdam Pharmaceuticals of not having the environment to isolate botulinum, lying, and taking their strain.”
“That’s also insane. If that’s true, they were the ones who let out that toxic strain because they couldn’t control it. They should be thinking about a solution.”
“You want me to set up a meeting with the KCDC?”
“I’ll talk to the secretary’s office and set it up. You don’t have to worry about that, and thanks for letting me know. This is not the time for me to be worrying about Philistines.”
Bzzz!
Young-Joon’s cell phone rang. It was Director Kim Young-Hoon.
“Yes, Mr. Director.”
—I’m on my way to Egypt right now. I spoke with Prime Minister Felus as you instructed before.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Young-Joon said.
—You don’t sound well. Is something wrong?
“Um… No, I’m fine.”
—I made a last-minute appointment with Philistines yesterday, so I don’t know how it’s going to go. They’re making a lot of money, and their production and sales are going well, so there’s a chance that they might turn down our investment.
“Then tell them this.”
—What should I tell them?
“Tell them that we can help them with distribution, not production,” Young-Joon said. “Botulinum toxin needs to be stored below minus twenty degrees Celsius. Tell them we can make a cold chain for them.”
* * *
Kim Young-Hoon hung up the phone. He was in a car traveling to Cairo, Egypt. He thought back to his meeting with Felus the day before.
“Doctor Ryu said he’d like to proceed with the clinical trial, since it makes sense to run a clinical trial with a diverse ethnic background,” Kim Young-Hoon said to Felus.
“But there’s a problem. First, your son is brain-dead, and it will be difficult to fly long distances on life support. Second, even if we solve this problem, he is still dead under current medical laws. Bringing the body of a poor orphan boy from Palestine into Korea, having it transported to the Next Generation Hospital for the clinical trial would most likely expose your relationship, Mr. Prime Minister.”
“… I would prefer that it would not be revealed,” Felus said.
“That’s why our medical staff will be coming here.”
“Really?”
“The problem is that Professor Miguel cannot come here. He’s not an employee of the Next Generation Hospital, just a visiting professor.”
“What’s the difference if he can’t come?”
“It is impossible to do the procedure of using a microsyringe to inject stem cells into the subventricular zone through the nose. I don’t know how many technicians in the world are skilled enough to do that.”
“Then…”
“The brain death recovery technology is still in the development stage. There are also easier drug delivery methods that we are working on as follow-up research at A-GenBio. If you agree, we will use one of them,” Kim Young-Hoon said. “By the way, the CEO is confident.”
“…”
Felus thought for a moment, then nodded.
“This is the best we can do. Okay.”
Kim Young-Hoon, who was watching Felus sign the consent form, asked, “By any chance, have you heard of a company called Philistines in Egypt?”
“Philistines?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it a pharmaceutical company? They’re doing so well that the news has made it all the way here. People were saying that they’re riding the wave that A-GenBio created, and the Middle East is now getting high-tech science like the pharmaceutical industry…”
“Then have you heard of a scientist named Isaiah Franklin?” Kim Young-Hoon asked.
“I don’t think so. Do they have something to do with Philistines?”
“I’ve heard rumors that they have a connection with the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. That terrorist organization has attacked the GSC before, and our CEO was there as well.”
“The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine…”
Felus pondered the name again, which was born out of the tragedy between Israel and Palestine.
“Do you want Israeli intelligence to look into it?” Felus asked.
Kim Young-Hoon nodded as if he had been waiting for it.
“Yes, thank you. I think it would help Israel’s security as well.”
“Of course. Thank you for the information. I hope the clinical trial goes well.”
Felus shook Kim Young-Hoon’s hand.
* * *
‘Something’s off.’
Kim Young-Hoon’s instincts were rarely wrong. Something about Philistines was fishy.
Kim Young-Hoon finally arrived in Cairo.