World without Cats

by Bonham Richards

  During the great polio scare of the 1940s and 50s, the CDC took on the responsibility for control and surveillance of that viral menace. The work of the agency gradually expanded to other parts of the world. For example, it played a major role in the eradication of smallpox from African countries.

  As the functions of the agency broadened to include the epidemiology of non-communicable diseases, the name was changed to the Center for Disease Control, conveniently allowing the same three-letter abbreviation.

  In 1976, the CDC investigated a new epidemic involving attendees at an American Legion convention in Philadelphia. In due course, microbiologists at the center identified the bacteria responsible for what came to be known as Legionnaire’s Disease. Later, the CDC opened an expanded, maximum-containment laboratory to handle viruses too dangerous for an ordinary laboratory.

  The name of the agency was again expanded in the 1990s to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Most people still referred to it as the CDC. It continued to participate in the worldwide search for the reservoir for Ebola.

  Brilliant university student, Angelo Kråkmo—the spelling had been changed to Kraakmo for convenience after Angelo immigrated to the USA—had studied at the University of Oslo, where he majored in mathematics. There, he came across the book he later credited with altering his career course. After reading The Coming Plague by Laurie Garrett, Angelo decided to apply his mathematical training to the statistical analysis of diseases. He earned a doctorate from the department of medical epidemiology at the prestigious Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, where he specialized in mathematical epidemiology. His thesis on the origin of the AIDS virus in tropical rainforests of central Africa was widely heralded as a major contribution to the study of emerging viruses.

  Angelo sat on the aisle and, after takeoff, began leafing through the file Bronkowski had given him. In spite of himself, he became intrigued with its contents. So there are two foci of the disease, one in Western Washington State and the other in Southern California. Angelo considered the unlikely possibility that the two areas were afflicted by different diseases and made a note to check that out as soon as possible. Years earlier, he had learned to question all aspects of a case, especially those others might take for granted.

  “Excuse me,” said the young woman in the seat beside him, breaking Angelo’s train of thought. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but I happened to notice that the file you’re reading says ‘Feline Epizootic-2020.’”

  Angelo looked over and beheld a twenty-something, stunningly attractive redhead, dressed informally in a beige pantsuit. “Yes, so?”

  “I’m a reporter for The Journal/Constitution,” said the redhead, “and I’m on my way to Southern California to dig up information on the disease. Do you mind if I ask, what is your interest in it? Oh, My name is Sandra McNally.”

  “How do you do, Sandra McNally? I think I’ve seen your byline. It never occurred to me that the name was attached to such a beautiful woman.”

  Used to such flirtations, McNally tried to ignore it, but a slight blush gave her away. “Ah, you read The AJC. Good.”

  “Yes, on the Internet. My name is Angelo Kraakmo, and I am with the CDC. I too am heading to Southern California to dig up information on the feline disease. I don’t know much about it yet. I would be happy to answer any questions.”

  “Oh, thank you so much. Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

  Somewhat nonplussed by the sudden attention, Angelo wasn’t sure what to say. “I … I guess I don’t mind.”

  The reporter switched on her tiny digital recorder and announced the day, time and location, which happened to be twenty-seven thousand feet above Alabama. She then asked, “Is it true, Mr. Kraakmo, that all cats that contract this disease die from it? Are there no survivors?”

  “It’s Dr. Kraakmo, but please call me Angelo. Yes, it is so. There is total mortality. This is fascinating, because usually an epidemic—or epizootic in the present case—leaves some percentage of the population alive. Even the terrible Black Death of the fourteenth century spared over half the European population. But this feline disease is apparently dispatching every one of the cats it touches. Excuse me a moment.” He pulled out his e-tablet and scribbled a note.

  When he looked up, McNally said, “I’m sorry, Dr. Kraakmo—Angelo. Do you have any idea of the origin of the disease? Is it a virus?”

  Angelo noticed that the reporter asked the right questions. It was clear that she was good at her job. “It might be a variant of feline leukemia,” he said. “My file here contains background information on the leukemia, as well as on feline AIDS. You’re welcome to look over my shoulder while I read. There is nothing confidential.”

  “You are most kind. I didn’t even know cats could get AIDS.”

  Angelo began to read while McNally leaned toward him. Her cologne is pleasant, he thought.

  Feline leukemia virus, or FeLV, was first isolated in 1964 from cats with lymphosarcomas. Like HIV, as well as many other human and animal viruses, FeLV is a retrovirus.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Kraa … Angelo, what is a retrovirus?” She switched on the recorder.

  Angelo tried not to show irritation at the interruption. “A retrovirus is one whose genome, or chromosome, is made up of RNA rather than DNA, and which uses an enzyme called reverse transcriptase to make a DNA copy, which is then used to make RNA copies for more virus particles and messenger RNA for its proteins.”

  “Right. And Bob’s your uncle.”

  “Oho! You have been to Australia?”

  “Actually, no. But, I have an Aussie friend who is always saying that. I said it because what you just told me is over my head. When I get home, I’ll read up on this stuff. Maybe I’ll even drive over to the CDC and interview you again after you complete your investigation.”

  “Marveloose! That would be fine.”

  He read on, with McNally’s head practically resting on his shoulder.

  Cats normally carry one or more copies of the DNA code for the virus, so-called virogenes, in their chromosomes. Leukemia develops when a cat becomes infected with an exogenous FeLV that interacts with the DNA provirus. The antibiotic actinomycin D is somewhat effective in treating the leukemia.

  “Uh, pardon me again, Angelo, but what is meant by provirus?”

  “That is the genome of the virus that has become incorporated into one of the host’s chromosomes.”

  McNally pulled her head back. “You mean that the genes of the virus are actually right along side of cat genes in the cat’s own chromosome? That’s incredible!”

  Angelo smiled. “Actually, Sandra, this is quite common. You and I have proviruses in our chromosomes too. This integration of viral genes into host chromosomes is found in all species, as far as I know. As a matter of fact, it was first observed in bacteria.”

  McNally scribbled on a PDA. “This antibiotic, actinomycin D, do you know if it has been tried on cats who have this new disease?”

  “No, I don’t,” Angelo answered. “I was wondering about that myself.”

  McNally was silent a moment. She inhaled as if to speak. Angelo waited expectantly. Finally, she said, “I am so grateful for your patience in answering my questions. To show my appreciation, I’d like to treat you to lunch after we land.”

  Angelo reddened. “That is very kind of you, but I have to rent a car and then hurry to Ventura. I don’t think I can spare the time.”

  “Well, maybe another time, perhaps when I visit the CDC.” Angelo flipped through the file and found a summary of feline AIDS. He read aloud. McNally turned on her recorder.

  FIV, was discovered in 1986 by Niels Pedersen and his colleagues at the University of California at Davis.

  “Aha,” Angelo exclaimed, “a Scandinavian.”

  “Oh,” said McNally, “Are you Scandinavian?”

  “Half-Norwegian and h
alf-Italian.”

  “That explains it. I was having trouble placing your accent.”

  Angelo shrugged. He continued reading from the file.

  Feline Immunodeficiency Virus or FIV, like FeLV, is a retrovirus; it shares some characteristics with HIV, although it is genetically dissimilar. There are FIV-like viruses found in other members of the cat family such as leopards, ocelots, and lions, but these wild cats do not seem to develop an AIDS-type of disease.

  McNally interrupted. “Do you know if any species other than domestic cats have been diagnosed with the new disease?”

  “You ask good questions, Sandra McNally. I too would like to know the answer to that. I have not heard of any, but I have just been assigned to the case. At this point, you know almost as much about the disease as I do.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  Angelo resumed reading about FIV.

  The virus is most likely to be transmitted from one cat to another by a bite. Male cats, therefore, are twice as likely to become infected with FIV than females. Cats infected with FIV may take years to develop full-blown AIDS.

  Angelo put his head back and closed his eyes. “I don’t think that fits with the new disease,” he commented. “I haven’t seen any mention of it transmitted by cats biting one another. Besides, female cats are being infected at the same rate as males.”

  For the rest of the flight, McNally and he shared the file, she taking oral notes and writing on her PDS while Angelo jotted his notes down on his tiny e-tablet.

  At the airport, they headed for the same car rental booth. Angelo opted for a small Toyota hybrid.

  “I hope very much to meet up with you again at the CDC,” declared McNally. “When I write my copy, I will certainly acknowledge your help. Will that be all right?”

  “Absolut! I will look for the article.”

  “If I gather enough information, I may make it into a series.”

  As they were about to go their separate ways, Angelo noticed McNally hesitate. She opened her mouth as if to say something.

  “What?” asked Angelo.

  “Um … I hope you won’t hesitate to say no, but …”

  “Yes, Sandra McNally, what is it?”

  “Would you mind terribly if I kind of tagged along with you? I’m supposed to meet with a biologist at UCLA tomorrow morning, but I think I could learn so much more from your investigation, if you don’t think I would be a burden … The AJC would certainly split the cost of the car rental.”

  Angelo was silent a moment. “Well,” he replied finally, “I can’t think of any reason why not. I think I’d enjoy the company.” Indeed, he rarely found himself in the presence of attractive, intelligent women like McNally.

  “That’s just wonderful.”

  After the reporter canceled her rental, the pair set off at once for Ventura. McNally phoned her contact at UCLA to reschedule the interview for two days hence.

  Arriving in Camarillo, they drove right through town and continued on to the city of Ventura, where they made their way to the county department of public health. Without announcement, and over the protests of Dr. Jerome Robinson’s receptionist, Angelo barged into the health officer’s office, McNally in tow.

  “I am Dr. Angelo Nils Kraakmo,” he announced. “You may be familiar with my work on the epidemiology of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.” He proceeded to expound on his work to Robinson, who stared at Angelo, openmouthed.

  Angelo paused. He sensed that Robinson wasn’t following. “You understand? Is my accent a problem?”

  “I didn’t get all of that. You do speak rapidly. Please, have a seat,” Robinson replied. “From what I understood, I think you might be interested in some papers I’ve been reading on the origin of AIDS.” He held out his e-reader to Angelo and pointed to three papers written by the man opposite him.

  Angelo glanced at the icons and bellowed, “Angelo Kraakmo, that’s me!”

  Robinson blinked. “You … you are Angelo Kraakmo?”

  “Absolut! And this is Ms. Sandra McNally, reporter for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.”

  McNally asked if she could record their conversation. Robinson brought them up to date on the feline disease, concluding with, “The person in this area who is most knowledgeable about the disease is a veterinarian in Camarillo, Dr. Vera Barnett. She’s the one you want to talk to.”

  10

  May 2020

  1,080,000,000

  Vera eyed the dumpy man in the brown plaid shirt and sport coat. The guy’s brush moustache eclipsed his large mouth. “May I help you?” she asked.

  After Angelo introduced himself, he asked, “Are you Dr. Vera Barnett, the veterinarian?”

  “Oh, you’re the epidemiologist,” Vera declared. “Dr. Robinson phoned me that you’d be coming.” After all the introductions were made, McNally asked if she could record the conversation. “Sure,” said Vera.

  “Please,” Angelo began, “I would like you to tell me everything you know about this cat disease. I understand that it started in the home of a woman who keeps cats, and that it has spread to some of the neighboring communities, but I would like to hear a more technical description from a person who has actually treated the cats.”

  “Certainly,” Vera replied. “Well, first of all, I think that the epidemic started at—”

  “Epizootic,” interrupted Angelo.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Epizootic. An eruption of a disease in animal population is an epizootic, not an epidemic. Epidemics are for people … humans.”

  “Oh, right,” Vera muttered, irritated at what seemed to her trivial pedantry. “The epizootic started at the university in—”

  “There is university here?” Angelo broke in again.

  “Yes, California State University, Channel Islands.” Vera became increasingly annoyed at the man’s continuing interruptions. Nevertheless, she went on to describe the disease. Vera related her belief that the disease was either a form of FeLV or FIV, and that the likely origin of the disease was in Noah’s laboratory.

  “Scandaloose!” exclaimed Angelo when Vera was finished. “So that’s the theory.” He pronounced the word as if it were spelled teery.

  “That’s my theory, yes,” Vera replied.

  “You think that sarcoma virus and E. coli plasmid DNA and FeLV or genes all got mixed up together in this laboratory at the university.” Angelo stated this slowly, his brow furrowed.

  “Exactly,” replied Vera.

  “But the report I read said that the epizootic started at the home of that cat woman.”

  “Dorothy,” corrected Vera. “Dorothy Knowland. Yes, actually the first cases that came to my attention appeared in her cats. But there could be many reasons for that. Maybe her cats were more susceptible than the ones at the university. Maybe the cats in Dr. Chamberlin’s lab had built up a partial immunity, because they were exposed to the sarcoma virus. I don’t know.”

  “But there is no evidence of any immunity whatsoever,” said Angelo.

  Vera frowned. “Okay, you’re the epide … epizoologist; you come up with a better theory.”

  “I will try,” said Angelo. “Actually, although I appreciate your attempt to use the correct word, I am, in fact, an epidemiologist. Most of the time I investigate human diseases. Anyway, the word epizoologist isn’t used much, even by epizoologists.”

  Vera smiled, in spite of herself. “I’ll try to watch my language.”

  Angelo sipped his coffee in silence. Suddenly, he looked up and demanded, “Show me one of the sick cats.”

  Vera eyed him for a moment and decided not to let his autocratic tone get to her. “Well, there aren’t many left, I’ll tell you that. I know of only three cats still alive in Camarillo, and all are sick. One of them is in back.”


  She took Angelo and McNally into the ward and had them put on disposable paper smocks and latex gloves. She did the same. Together, they examined the lethargic animal—a nondescript tortoiseshell. Angelo hurriedly recorded notes on his tablet.

  “I would like to send some tissues for analysis to the CDC,” he said, replacing the little book in his pocket.

  “What sort of tissues?” Vera asked.

  “Spleen, blood, lymph node, liver, and maybe some brain.”

  “All right, but I don’t have any dead animals on hand right now. I incinerated the bodies.”

  “Hmmm. But couldn’t we just sacrifice this one?”

  Vera stared at him, tight-lipped. She glanced at Kal whose face expressed astonishment. McNally was equally aghast. Vera said, finally, “Dr. Kraakmo, I am in the business of caring for and trying to cure sick animals. I do not kill my patients.”

  “But it is just a cat!”

  Vera glared at Angelo in silence for a moment. She then declared, “When, and if this animal should die, I will personally carry out a necropsy and provide you with the tissues you need. Until then, I shall try to maintain this cat, who is someone’s friend and companion, in as comfortable a state as is humanely possible.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “I want to talk to the cat lady. Is she close?”

  “Well, it’s only about a twenty-minute drive. Let me call her first.”

  Vera phoned, and, shortly, she, Angelo, and McNally had been invited to dinner. Dorothy’s enthusiastic invitation made Vera realize that the widow would be happy for the company now that her feline companions were gone. McNally begged off, mentioning that she was exhausted, as she’d been up since midnight, Pacific time.

  After dropping McNally off at a nearby motel, Vera turned her Porsche onto Lewis Road. She switched to gasoline and hit the accelerator. Angelo, who had a passion for fast cars, remarked, “This 999H handles well.”