Part 3 of the science short story written by Dr Wong Kah Keng.
This is the era of molecular medicine If you are not in it, you are out of fashion Every disease now has genetic notion From colo-rectal cancers to disturbed emotion Everyone is talking about DNA Which could be obtained from victim or prey Policemen, judges, fear we allay…
The Sun is dying in 2057. A group of professionals consisting of astronaut, physicist, biologist, medics and engineer from diverse backgrounds are onboard of a spaceship (deliciously-named as Icarus II) in a mission to re-ignite the Sun with a nuclear bomb constructed from all of Earth’s fissile materials. On their journey to the Sun, they receive a distress signal from an external source in the outer space. This forces them to make a coin-flip decision whether to make a detour heading to the distress signal or to continue with their journey whose success of re-igniting the Sun is entirely theoretical. A series of pulsating and nail-biting events follow with a rising crescendo of death-defying situations brought into the finale.
With the presentation closing in at 11 a.m., Justin completed the cell culture work by transferring the cells into a vial. It was subsequently kept in a small container, aptly titled as ‘Mr. Frosty’, to be placed inside a -80oC freezer for initial cell preservation. Mr. Frosty allowed the cells…
Mixture of the pop song from the radio and the ventilation noise from the tissue culture hood fills the air of a small, rectangular-shaped room. The most precious tool within the laboratory, the pipette, was firmly-held in his left hand while various other flasks, tubes, containers were shifted intensively. Hands gloved and labcoated, Justin had been manipulating the cancerous cells since the crepuscular hours. The cells had to be grown in a sterile environment – confined within plastics or glasses – the living conditions tantamount to those endured by the Bubble Boy1. His nose inadvertently came in contact with the window glass of the hood, leaving a spot of sebum that partially blurred the vision, forcing him to abandon whatever he held within the hood to clear up the spot with 70% ethanol.
One year ago before I came to CERN I had no idea what the Higgs boson was, I thought a wormhole is where birds are sent to when they die and Quark is a kind of food I like. I thought life was the biggest concoction of coincidental and wicked confusion, until one day someone tried to explain the string theory to me.