‘Given that it didn’t have my grandfather’s support, how many years did your laboratory last?’
‘More than fifty,’ Sahlberg said proudly.
‘How is that possible?’ Jones asked.
‘Jonathon’s father established means for my work to be funded in perpetuity. I don’t exactly know how he did it — I never asked, and he never mentioned it — but I’ve had access to the same credit line for half a century.’
Payne’s curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward, bringing himself closer to Sahlberg. Though they were in the privacy of his penthouse, he actually felt the need to lower his voice to a whisper. ‘Doctor, what exactly is your area of expertise?’
Sahlberg grabbed his glass and gulped his wine.
He had been dreading this moment for many years.
21
Sahlberg knew the general public had an uneasy relationship with the scientific community. People clamored for safer, more effective drugs, but they preferred the testing to be done in a way that didn’t put anyone (or any animal) at risk. And that was just for starters. When the topic turned to something more controversial, like stem cells, emotions tended to flare.
Stem cells were essentially ‘blank’ cells that could grow into any number of specific cell types, depending on how and where they were introduced to a larger organism. Many scientists believed that they offered the best possibilities for combating or eliminating conditions such as Parkinson’s and paralysis, and yet some people were completely against this research because certain types of stem cells could only be obtained from human embryos, and since the extraction process destroyed the embryo itself, they regarded it as tantamount to murder.
Sahlberg understood their position — he just didn’t agree with it. Such was the nature of his work. ‘Are you familiar with perpetual cell lines?’
‘Assume for the moment that I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Payne said.
‘Because he doesn’t,’ Jones added.
Payne glared at him.
‘What?’ Jones said, laughing. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not exactly sure what he’s talking about either, and I’m a lot smarter than you.’
Payne rolled his eyes and told Sahlberg to continue.
‘As you probably know, cells are the basic structure of all living things, but within those cells there are even smaller structures called telomeres. Think of them as a tiny chain. Each time the cell divides, a link of the chain is knocked off in the process. When the last link is destroyed, the cell essentially withers and dies. The telomeres serve as a biological clock, if you will. A device that counts down to the cell’s inevitable death. Sometimes that countdown can last for decades — for instance, the cells in your brain — while other cells, such as those that form your skin, only last for a few hours. The length of a cell’s lifespan is determined by the Hayflick limit, which refers to the number of divisions, or cell cycles, a cell can undergo before it has used up all of its telomeres.’
Sahlberg paused to give Payne and Jones a moment to digest everything. He raised an eyebrow, looking for permission to continue.
‘With you so far,’ Payne said.
‘Me too,’ Jones assured him.
Sahlberg nodded. ‘However, some very special cells are able to produce an enzyme that prevents the links in the telomere chain from shearing off. With no biological clock to signal the end of its lifespan — or, perhaps more aptly, a malfunctioning clock that never counts down — the cells never stop dividing. They replicate indefinitely, for ever.’
‘I’m not sure if I like where this is headed,’ Payne said.
Jones tried to lighten the mood. ‘Doc, if you have a ten-thousand-year-old monkey man living in your basement, I’ve got to meet him!’
‘It’s nothing like that!’ Sahlberg protested. ‘We’re only talking about clumps of cells that continue to proliferate. Extending the longevity of something as simple as tissue is well beyond the scope of what we’re capable of achieving, much less the continued existence of an entire organism. And even then, the cells that have been discovered with the necessary enzymes to inhibit the telomere breakdown are limited to an extremely narrow range of material. Three-T-three: a cell line from the fatty connective tissue of a mouse. Jurkat: a cell line from the lymphocyte of a leukemia patient. And HeLa: a cell line from a cancer patient in Maryland.’
Payne nodded. ‘You’re talking about Henrietta Lacks.’
‘Indeed I am. Are you familiar with her story?’
He nodded again. ‘Back in the early fifties, a woman named Henrietta Lacks was admitted to a hospital in Baltimore because of extreme stomach pain. After finding a large tumor on her cervix, the doctors did a biopsy and discovered that it was cervical cancer. They also discovered that the cancer cells from her biopsy continued to replicate long after they should have stopped. Properly incubated, the cells simply wouldn’t die. This meant they were perfect for scientific studies, because you could run test after test after test and know that the subject material was identical in each experiment. Even if the process took years, the cells used as the base of the study remained exactly the same, which eliminated one important variable in research: the “what if the differing results were caused by a small difference in the sample cells?”’
‘Exactly,’ Sahlberg said. ‘Lacks’s cells were mass-produced and shipped all across the world so that everyone’s experiments could use the same subject material. These cells allowed for monumental advancements in the study of cancer, AIDS, gene mapping, and so on. Over the years, so many of her cells have been produced that if they were amassed together they would weigh more than five hundred times her original body weight.’
Payne glanced at Jones. ‘Still with us?’
‘Who, me?’
‘Of course you. We’re saying all this for your benefit.’
‘For my benefit?’ Jones said, half insulted. ‘Sorry, I thought you guys were just thinking out loud, not lecturing me. As an educated black man, I’m quite familiar with Henrietta Lacks and the billion-dollar industry that her body spawned. I also know that her impoverished family was never paid a single cent for the mass production of her cells — or even notified that her cells were being used for research — even though every HeLa cell in the world is traceable back to that original biopsy in Baltimore. The only thing I don’t understand is why you’re familiar with her — your knowledge base is generally limited to the sports section.’
Payne winced. ‘First of all, ouch. That was uncalled for.’
Jones smiled but didn’t apologize.
‘Secondly, I know about HeLa cells because of Jonas Salk. He was hired by the University of Pittsburgh in 1947 and was tasked with finding a polio vaccine. Less than a decade later, Salk announced the creation of a successful vaccine, one that would save millions of people from the crippling effects of the disease. One of the keys to his discovery was the use of HeLa cells in his experiments.’
Sahlberg nodded. ‘Do you know how Salk got the HeLa cells to begin with?’
Payne shrugged, unsure.
‘They were sent to him by George Otto Gey, a Pitt alumnus who was the head of tissue culture research at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. He was the doctor who first studied the tissue sample from Henrietta Lacks, and because of his association with the University of Pittsburgh, he was quite familiar with the research that Salk was conducting. If not for the Pitt connection, who knows how many more lives would have been lost?’