text: Noah was eager to show Vera around the revamped BSL-3 lab. "You're going to love it," he said as he unlocked the first of two locks on the reinforced door.
  
  "I've looked at the plans, honey. I don't expect to be surprised."
  
  "Just wait." He opened the door, flipped a red switch just inside, and took Vera's hand.
  
  "What's that switch?" Vera asked.
  
  "It turns off the UV germicidal lamps. They're kept on all the time, except when there are personnel or cats in the lab."
  
  Vera looked unhurriedly around the room. "Well, it's certainly more crowded than I had expected."
  
  "Yes," Noah agreed. "Probably too congested. You know, it almost qualifies as a BSL-4 hot lab."
  
  Vera pointed to a separate windowed chamber at the far end. "What's that?"
  
  "That's where the incoming cats will be held in isolation cages until they can be checked for FHF."
  
  Vera nodded. "And I see that the operating area is also enclosed within its own inner room—oh! There's the laparoscope.
  
  "That's what you asked for, isn't it? The computer and monitor are below the table. You raise them to working height with a foot pedal."
  
  "Noah, I'm scared... seeing all this stuff..."
  
  Noah put his hands on Vera's shoulders and faced her. "I know," he said. "Me too." He was silent a moment, and then he took her hand. "We're going to do it. We're going to win the war against this FHF virus."
  
  A single tear plunged from Vera's right eye to the floor. She moved forward and hugged Noah. "I know we will," she whispered. "I know."
  
  Facilities similar to those in Camarillo had been constructed at the CDC, the Pasteur Institute, and the Moscow Institute for Veterinary Medicine. These centers had engaged veterinarians who were proficient, not only in routine feline surgery, but in microsurgery as well. Each had been put through a crash course in Vera's planned methodology. All the labs had received a plentiful supply of Noah's FeLV-FHF vector. The vets and their support technicians waited anxiously for feral cats to arrive from the hinterlands.
  
  "Oh, crap!" Vera muttered when she spied the small crowd behind the thirty-foot circle of yellow tape around the loading dock at the rear of the institute. She had hoped to keep the date of the van's arrival confidential. A cadre of campus police stood guard over the area.
  
  "Here they come," said Vera, pointing to the CDC van pulling into the parking area at the rear of the institute. She and Kal wore disinfected jumpsuits—not to protect themselves from the cats, but to shield the animals from any FHF the vets might be carrying on their persons.
  
  Kal picked up two of the special transport boxes. The containers had been constructed at the CDC; each was large enough to house a trapping cage. They had been disinfected with ethylene oxide gas and sealed in sterile plastic wrap.
  
  The two vets proceeded to the van, where the two CDC techs were donning their disinfected outfits. Vera was to supervise the transfer of the feral cats to the lab.
  
  "Kal," she called.
  
  He turned. "What? Is something wrong?"
  
  "No mistakes. This has to be perfect. No FHF gets near the cats."
  
  Kal nodded. "Vera, we've rehearsed the transfer for a week. It'll be okay."
  
  "Sorry. I didn't mean to badger you."
  
  At the van, Kal held a box while Vera removed the plastic bag. Although she had examined diagrams, this was her first look inside a trapping van. My God, they really did a great job... everything's so white.
  
  Inside, Sitwell released the retaining latches of the first cage and disconnected its air hose. He withdrew a sterile HEPA filter from its container and screwed it into the air port. "You have about three minutes until this cat runs out of oxygen."
  
  Vera took a deep breath. "Kal, you take this one in. I'll start on the next."
  
  Kal and Vera took turns moving each of the twelve hissing, spitting, feral cats—six females and six males—into the BSL-3 lab. Vera recorded any details she thought might be relevant. "It's up to us now," Vera remarked. "Let's get to work."
  
  After a lengthy routine of decontamination, Vera and Kal took several hours to complete preliminary workups. The animals were unruly. "Here, Kal," she said, "try this." She handed him a small bag of catnip.
  
  "No good," he replied. "They won't touch it. They just cower at the back of the cage."
  
  Vera sighed. "All right. Put on the canvas gloves and hold the cats down. I'll inject ketamine. That'll knock them out for an hour or two."
  
  When the first of the cats was under, the two vets drew blood, after which they declawed its front paws. Vera knew that the wild cats could be unpredictable and were likely to scratch or rip the gloves or garments of anyone handling them. She had decided declawing was the prudent strategy. Finally, before the cats recovered from the anesthetic, Kal injected them with vaccines against feline enteritis and calicivirus.
  
  "Damn!" said Vera when she looked over the serological test results. "Two of these cats test positive for FHF—one male, the other female." She gazed at the tiny wells, trying to think of another interpretation. "And then there were ten... Kal, would you see that the two infected cats are taken to the clinic? They can spend the rest of their short lives there."
  
  "Sure... uh, there's something else," he said as he handed Vera a stack of data sheets.
  
  "What?"
  
  "One of the other females has been spayed."
  
  Vera shook her head. "Well, it's not surprising. Remember, those organizations that capture feral cats and immunize them often have the animals spayed or neutered. Nine out of twelve... I guess it could have been worse."
  
  The remaining cats were housed in special cages inside the BSL-3 area. Each of the spacious chambers was equipped with sterilized bedding, food, and water, self-emptying litter boxes, and a variety of playthings for the cats.
  
  Vera divided her time between baby Lilith and the Feline Phoenix project.
  
  A few days after the first load of cats, a second van arrived with seven more. Three were removed immediately when they showed symptoms of FHF. "Now we're up to thirteen," said Vera as she deftly transferred a soiled diaper into a laundry hamper.
  
  "Yep," Noah replied. "I'm keeping score, you know."
  
  Vera looked up. "What do you mean, 'keeping score?'"
  
  "Here," said Noah, "look." He turned his e-reader toward her. "Angelo e-mails me updates almost every day."
  
  Vera looked over the list. "Thirteen cats here at the institute... that's right. Five test cats at the CDC, eight cats at the Pasteur Institute, and eight at the Moscow lab. So as far as we know, there are thirty-four fertile cats available for testing with the vector."
  
  On the appointed day, Vera and Kal drove to the institute with the materials and equipment they needed for semen collection. Jane remained at the clinic in case she was needed to bring anything they'd forgotten.
  
  When they arrived at Noah's office, Vera declared, "It's showtime."
  
  "What happens now?" Noah asked.
  
  "Today, we do three procedures. First we'll inject three of the females with gonadotropin to stimulate superovulation. That way, we should have plenty of oocytes ready to harvest tomorrow. Second, we'll inject four other females—the ones that will receive the embryos later—with FSH to induce estrus."
  
  "What's FSH, and why do the mother cats have to be in estrus? They're not going to be mating, are they?"
  
  Vera explained, "FSH stands for follicle-stimulating hormone. We shoot it into muscle tissue every day, until the queen shows signs of estrus. This should take three or four days. The reason we want the donor queens in estrus is that the embryo transplants are only likely to take if the recipient cat is in the same physiological state as the mother cat would be if the ovum had been fertilized naturally."
  
  "Whew! I had no idea there was so much to this."
  
  "Yeah, it's almost as complicated as molecular biology." Vera smiled wryly. "Anyway, once the mother-to-be is in estrus, we inject gonadotropin, just as we'll do with the egg donors. Also, today, we plan to collect semen from the toms."
  
  Noah wondered, "How do you do that? Masturbation?"
  
  "No. That's one way—some vets use an artificial vagina—but it's much easier to use electroejaculation."
  
  "Aaghh! Doesn't sound humane."
  
  Vera grinned. "Actually, it is. The male is anaesthetized and has no awareness of the procedure. When he wakes up, he's normal and in no pain. Who knows, maybe he has an erotic dream during the process."
  
  Noah chuckled. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.
  
  "Not with the semen collection. We'll extract the oocytes from three of the queens tomorrow. After we do the IVF, I'll need your magic bullet prep. You can thaw it and hold it on ice until we're ready." They were now referring to the FeLV vector with its attached FHF genes as the "magic bullet," an expression popularized over a century earlier by the German chemist Paul Ehrlich to refer to chemicals that fight microbial infections without harming the patients.
  
  "What's IVF?" asked Noah.
  
  "In-vitro fertilization."
  
  "Oh, right. You guys use as much jargon molecular biologists, don't you? I've got a dozen vials of the vector in the ultra-cold freezer. I'll thaw a couple of them as soon as I get in tomorrow morning."
  
  "Fine. I'll have Jane and Kal with me to help with the surgery. Jane will act as surgical nurse and Kal as an assistant surgeon." She frowned. "Sounds pretentious, doesn't it?"
  
  Noah smiled. "I think you're entitled to any pretentions you fancy."
  
  She squeezed his hand. "One thing you can do," she said, "is help Doris look after Lilith. I'm going to be spending more time here for the next few days than I have recently."
  
  "No problem. I can run home in the middle of the day."
  
  Vera made use of the shower adjacent to the lab, washing down thoroughly with hexachlorophene soap. Kal did the same. The two vets donned sterile surgical scrubs, complete with facemasks, hoods, and paper booties over their shoes. They scrubbed their arms a second time with surgical soap and Betadine. No way were they going to introduce any FHF into the lab. Before entering, Vera switched off the UV lamps.
  
  "Okay, that's it," Kal remarked, after he'd injected the three females with gonadotropin. "Let's go collect the semen. Romeo's first, right?"
  
  In keeping with the tradition set in Noah's lab, the thirteen feral cats had been named after Shakespearian characters. After several days in captivity, the first donor, Romeo, had become somewhat conditioned to his cage and to the lab environment. Kal, with the help of a pinch of catnip, met little resistance when he opened the sliding door and reached in. With a small electric clipper, he shaved Romeo's right forepaw to expose the cubital vein, while Vera readied a syringe containing ketamine mixed with diazepam. While Kal held the tom steady, Vera injected the mix.
  
  "He's under," Vera said. Kal took the teflon-coated electrode and inserted it in the cat's rectum. He switched on the power supply and applied a succession of rapid-fire stimuli. Vera collected the resulting semen in a small vial containing a holding buffer. When they were done, Kal gently placed Romeo back in his cage. The vets collected specimens from two other toms, Polonius and Lear, in the same manner. The semen would be used the next day, so Vera decided simply to keep the vials unfrozen in an ice bath overnight.
  
  Later, when Kal examined the first of the semen samples with Noah's microscope, he raised a fist in the air and shouted, "Yes! Good sperm count with excellent motility."
  
  Vera let out a lungful of breath she'd unconsciously held in. "Ah, good," she sighed.
  
  The other two specimens showed favorable sperm counts also. Before they left for the day, Vera and Kal removed the food dishes from the two gonadotropin-treated females. Tomorrow, the queens would be egg donors.
  
  Vera, Kal, and Jane arrived at six the next morning, carrying several large cases of surgical supplies—instruments, a small tank containing compressed carbon-dioxide gas, anesthetics, buffers, and the like. As soon as she had showered and put on sterile garments, Vera took the semen samples out of the ice bath to warm them. They would sit at room temperature for several hours to allow capacitation of the spermatozoa. She then removed the water dishes from the two females that were to serve as egg donors.
  
  Kal and Jane soon joined Vera and prepared for the surgery. "All right, team," Vera pronounced officiously, "let's review. The procedure is to extract egg cells from the donor queens, fertilize the ova in vitro with semen collected yesterday, and, after fertilization occurs, to inject the bullet vector into the nuclei of the cells. Kal, continue."
  
  "Testing me, are you? Okay, then. We'll incubate the fertilized eggs for four or five days, until the cells divide a few times. Finally, we'll transplant the embryos into the four recipient females. With luck, they'll develop into FHF-resistant kittens."
  
  "Good, Kal." Vera shook his hand. She hugged him, and Jane joined. They remained in a tri-part huddle for almost a minute.
  
  After several hours, everything was ready. "I think we should eat something before we start," Vera suggested. None of them had eaten breakfast, and it was now approaching nine o'clock.
  
  After removing their special clothing, they took a quick meal at the campus cafeteria, with Noah along to offer what encouragement he could. When they returned, the three again went through the tedious process of showering, disinfecting, and donning the scrubs.
  
  While Noah watched through a window, Vera anaesthetized Ophelia, the first of the queens to donate her eggs. When she was sure that the cat was unconscious, Vera positioned her on the surgical table.
  
  "Tie her limbs, will you, Kal?"
  
  He quickly tied Ophelia's four legs to hooks at the sides of the table. Jane grasped electric shears and shaved the skin of the cat's lower abdomen, after which Vera swabbed the area with Betadine and surgical soap. Kal then draped sterile cloths over most of the animal, leaving only a small rectangle of skin exposed.
  
  "Okay, Kal, inject the carbon dioxide."
  
  Kal picked up a sterile needle attached to a long, flexible length of tubing that extended from the small tank. He inserted it through the exposed skin of the cat into the abdomen. He nodded to Jane, who twisted the valve on the tank through a small arc. The trio could see the abdomen begin to expand.
  
  "It's like blowing up a balloon," Jane remarked. "Why are we doing this? I forgot."
  
  "It makes it much easier to work inside. If all the organs were sitting on top of one another, it would be difficult to get around with these delicate instruments."
  
  When all was ready, Vera made small cuts with a scalpel, first through the dermis, and then through the abdominal wall. With a grabber, she pulled the cat's left ovary toward the opening and handed the instrument over to Jane as she said, "I want you to hold this as steady as you can."
  
  "Right."
  
  Vera nodded. "Kal, would you position the laparoscope, please?"
  
  She took hold of the probe with her right hand and the aspirating needle with her left. Jane held the collecting tube with her other hand.
  
  Vera checked the computer screen as she moved the probe. "Hah!" she announced after a few seconds. "Several oocytes to choose from. Suction, please." Kal turned on the aspirator, and Vera maneuvered the needle over the ovary, where she could see the oocytes. Each time she lowered the needle, she heard a faint sshloop as small bits of ovary were sucked into the collecting tube.
  
  "All right, that's three so far. Let's get some from the other side." Vera took the grabber from Jane and allowed the ovary to settle back into its natural position. "Now pull up the right ovary," she said, handing the grabber back to Jane. Vera then carefully guided the probe to the organ and harvested four more oocytes from the right side.
  
  When they were done with Ophelia, Kal carefully closed the small incision. Gently, he carried Ophelia to her cage to recover. Vera waved to Noah through the window and held up her thumb in an okay sign. Noah pointed to his watch and indicated that he had to get to work. By mid-afternoon, the three surgeons had finished collecting oocytes from the other two females, Portia and Goneril.
  
  "There," said Vera, pointing to the three small plastic culture dishes, "rest twenty-four microscopic cells that might provide the only hope for the survival of the domestic cat."
  
  Vera and Kal now proceeded to carry out in vitro fertilization with feline semen collected the previous day. Vera sat down at the stereomicroscope and, with the help of the micromanipulator, carefully teased oocytes away from the tissue, transferring them to dishes containing buffered nutrients and antibiotics to inhibit bacteria and molds. For the next five hours, she and Kal took turns at the stereomicroscope, examining the dishes for signs of successful IVF.
  
  Near the end of the first hour, Kal shouted, "Got one!"
  
  "Let's see." Vera peered through the oculars and immediately spotted the thickened outer membrane on one of the oocytes, characteristic of fertilization. She could barely make out the two pronuclei—one from the egg and one from the sperm—until she cranked up the magnification. "Well, here we go. One small step for a vet, one giant leap for catkind... or so we hope."
  
  As Kal and Jane looked on, Vera removed the fertilized egg to its own tiny transparent plastic dish. She loaded a small amount of the FeLV-FHF vector constructed by Noah and Gary into an extremely thin glass pipette attached to the micromanipulator. Abruptly, Vera stood up and, eyes on the floor, paced around the room.
  
  "What's the matter?" asked Kal.
  
  "I'm just nervous, I guess. There's so much riding on this... we can't fail this time. We just can't."
  
  Jane reached for Vera's latex-gloved hands and took them in her own. She said nothing, but looked into Vera's eyes, an expression of empathy on her face.
  
  Vera regarded Jane and looked over at Kal. "Well, then," she sighed, "let's get on with it."
  
  She sat back down at the scope and quickly located the fertilized egg. In a moment, she had injected what she hoped would be the magic bullet into each of the nuclei. She carried the dish over to an incubator, where it would sit for four or five days before the developing embryo would be transplanted into a recipient female cat.
  
  Kal returned to the scope to look for more fertilized eggs. In the course of the next four hours, he and Vera found eighteen more and processed them in the same manner. Out of twenty-four oocytes, nineteen had become fertilized. Vera was not discouraged. She knew the success rate for IVF in cats was often lower.
  
  For five days one or the other of the vets drove up to the institute to check on the developing embryos, to change the culture medium, and to inject the four future-recipient females with FSH. Vera was comforted by the fact that most of the eggs exhibited the expected cell division. Only four of the nineteen turned out to be non-viable. Meanwhile, Angelo sent daily e-mail messages relaying news from the CDC, as well as from France and Russia.
  
  By Tuesday, three of the four recipient queens at the institute were showing signs of estrus. "Time to inject the gonadotropin," said Vera. "Will you take care of that, Kal?"
  
  "Sure. Looks like the embryos are about ready for transplanting. We have three new morulas today. I think we should start tomorrow and continue on Thursday, if necessary."
  
  "Tomorrow it is."
  
  Vera, Kal and Jane prepared for another day of surgery. With Noah watching from the observation room, the trio set up the equipment for next series of operations. Each of the queens would receive either three or four viable embryos.
  
  Vera opened the door to the cage of the black-and-white female they had named Gertrude. The cat hissed briefly, but, as Vera stroked her back and plied her with catnip, she calmed down.
  
  "That's an appropriate name for a queen," Jane remarked.
  
  Vera nodded. "There, there, milady," she said softly as she continued petting the animal. "We won't hurt you much. Wouldn't you like to be a savior of your species?"
  
  The procedure for implanting the embryos was similar to that used to harvest the egg cells, but this time embryos were going in rather than eggs coming out. Vera manned the laparoscope, Kal again served as anesthesiologist, and Jane acted as surgical nurse. Vera deftly placed four embryos in Gertrude's left uterine horn.
  
  "Wouldn't it be better to put two in one horn and two in the other?" asked Jane.
  
  "You want to answer that, Kal?" Vera looked up from the cat at her colleague.
  
  Kal grinned under his mask. "The reason is, Jane, that the embryos don't get implanted right away. They move around quite a bit for several days, and some will migrate to the other horn. It'll be several more days before the embryos finally settle down and become fixed to the uterine wall."
  
  When they'd finished with Gertrude, and Kal had closed the incision, the three continued with Juliet, a rather small, jet-black cat, and then two tabbies, Miranda and Jessica.
  
  "Nothing to do now but wait," offered Vera.
  
  Jane began cleaning the surgical equipment. "How long before we know if the cats are pregnant?" she asked.
  
  "We'll start weighing them twice a week, starting tomorrow," replied Vera. "Just like human mothers, cats gain weight almost from the beginning of implantation. Then, in about two weeks or so, we can do ultrasound."
  
  "Oh," remarked Jane, "I didn't realize that ultrasound was used on cats. I thought it was just for humans."
  
  "Nope. We've got a portable ultrasound unit back at the clinic. It's about the size of a laptop computer, so we can bring it over. Of course, we'll have to disinfect it if we're to use it here. Anyway, that's several weeks off."
  
  Vera and Kal again took turns driving up to the institute each day to feed and water the kings and queens, clean their cages, and weigh the queens. On the Saturday following the embryo implantation, Kal noticed small weight gains in all four of the females.
  
  On Tuesday, Vera again put the cats on the scale. "Kal, look at this." She handed him the tablet in which they kept their records.
  
  Kal took one look at it and smiled. "That's it, then. All four are pregnant. We're going to have kittens."
  
  August gave way to September. A high-pressure system over the Mojave Desert had warmed Camarillo to eighty-four degrees by mid-morning, as hot air rushed from the desert to the sea. Inside the air-conditioned rooms of the institute, nobody minded as the temperature was a comfortable seventy-four degrees. Vera prepared to perform the first ultrasound check of the pregnant queens, beginning with Miranda. Word had spread, and, outside the observation window of the BSL-3 cat lab, a small crowd had gathered, consisting mostly of technicians from elsewhere in the building and a few students. Noah too was a spectator. Lilith lay nestled in his arms. The Star had sent a reporter and photographer.
  
  Jane held Miranda on the table. Vera booted the ultrasound computer.
  
  She looked up at Jane. "Ready?" At Jane's nod, she held the wand over the cat's abdomen. She had positioned the monitor so that it was visible by the visitors, enabling all to see what she saw. "Here we go." In a moment she found it—a minute, rapid movement. Vera took a deep breath. I can't let those lookie-loos see me cry. She held up her two thumbs and forefingers toward the window and formed a heart symbol. She could barely hear the cheer from the spectators through the thick glass, but when she looked up, they were applauding. She moved the wand further down the abdomen. There was another tiny beater. The group needed no prompt this time and cheered again. Vera positioned the wand on the other side of the cat's belly. There she found a third beating heart. Miranda had received only three embryos. All had implanted successfully.
  
  "Looking good," Vera said, hoarsely. "Jane! Keep the cat still!" Vera looked up to see Jane had let go, her hands groping for a tissue to wipe the tears streaming down her face. Vera laughed, and then she cried. The women hugged each other. Miranda lay quietly.
  
  "Oh shit!" said Vera. "I forgot. We have an audience." She glanced at the visitors. They were still clapping; some were laughing, some crying.
  
  Ophelia carried three viable fetuses also; one of the four she had received had not survived. Juliet and Jessica showed only two each.
  
  "Ten out of fifteen," noted Vera. "That's better than I hoped for."
  
  Jane said, "Oh? I was hoping for 100 percent."
  
  "No, the success rate for embryo transplantation in cats generally runs around 50 percent. We got two-thirds."
  
  "In that case, congratulations." She pointed at the cages. "Should we check the second batch?"
  
  "No, it's a little too early for them. Remember, they received embryos a few days after the first group."
  
  The crowd outside drifted away, but Noah remained. When Vera emerged from the lab, he gave her a hug.
  
  "Watch out," she grunted. "You'll crush Lilith."
  
  "Nah. I've got her."
  
  "Here, let me hold her." Vera took the sleeping bundle. "You know," she remarked, "about eleven months ago, our little girl didn't look much different than those cat embryos."
  
  Noah nodded. "This is a major milestone, isn't it? Nothing to do now but wait for the mothers to give birth."
  
  "Yes. We're almost there. If the CDC manages to locate more feral cats, we could doctor some more embryos, but I understand that they've not been finding anymore."
  
  A week later, Vera examined the first gravid queens for the second time. A smaller group of observers was assembled outside the window. As she moved the wand over Jessica's belly, Vera said, "There. See? Now there's a head."
  
  Jane scanned the monitor. "I don't see... oh, that round thing." She pointed at the monitor and then at her own head. The spectators saw it too. Jane and Vera could barely hear their applause through the wall.
  
  All ten of the embryos were viable and developing as they should. Now it was time to check the second group. Jane retrieved a gray tabby named Helena from its cage and placed it on the table. The feral cats were still somewhat resistant to human handling, but could be calmed by constant petting and soothing talk. After a few minutes, Helena had stopped struggling and actually began to purr as Jane stroked her belly. "Must have been someone's pet cat at one time," Vera observed. She scanned the abdomen and shortly detected a diminutive beating heart, followed by another.
  
  "Looks like only two viable embryos in this one," Vera remarked. "Let's check the rest." The other three queens, Diana, Hermione, and a part-tabby, part-spotted female they had named Lady Macbeth—they called her Lady M—harbored six among them. Vera could find only one living embryo in Lady M. All in all there were now eighteen feline embryos in the BSL-3 cat lab at the institute.
  
  Angelo, was in constant contact with the Paris and Russian groups. He kept Noah and Vera informed by e-mail. The Paris group now had thirty-seven viable embryos. They had lost one queen, carrying two embryos, to an unknown disease. She had just sickened and died. A necropsy failed to reveal the reason. The remaining twelve surrogate mothers were healthy, however. Several were already exhibiting nest-building behavior and were given piles of sterile cheesecloth to use at will.
  
  The Moscow group had not received any additional feral cats after the first batch, but their fourteen embryos were developing normally. The CDC facility had received two more vanloads and was now host to sixteen gestating queens.
  
  On Labor Day, Vera invited Jane and Gary over for barbeque. Vera propped Lilith against a cushion, and they enjoyed the shade by the pines. Noah manned the grill, while Gary and Jane tossed a Frisbee back and forth. Vera was exhausted. Magic bullets, two-month-old baby girl, vet practice... what was I thinking? She noticed that Lilith's eyes followed the Frisbee whenever either Gary or Jane launched the disk.
  
  Vera called, "Noah!" When he looked her way, she pointed at Lilith.
  
  He came running over. "Son of a gun! That's new, right?"
  
  "It's new." Vera was captivated by Noah's reaction to each new advance by their daughter.
  
  "I wish it was time for the kittens to be born," Jane called. "The suspense is unbearable."
  
  Gary walked over to Jane and put his hands on her shoulders. "You know," he said, "this whole idea is a long shot. It might well be a complete failure. Maybe the bullet didn't get incorporated into any of the embryonic DNA. Or, maybe some of the cats did get it, but it might not be oriented properly. There are a million things that can go wrong."
  
  Jane put her finger to Gary's mouth. "Don't be such a pessimist. Can't you look on the positive side for once?"
  
  "Sorry. I just don't want you to be crushed if none of the kittens survive."
  
  "Is there any way to tell, after the kittens are born, if they have picked up the bullet?"
  
  Noah called, "That's an interesting question, Jane. Gary, come over here a minute. Let's talk about that."
  
  "What's on your mind?" asked Gary.
  
  Noah was silent a moment. "Suppose we took some cells from the mouths of the kittens. We could use our RNA copy of the bullet to locate any DNA copies. We could either amplify them with PCR or confirm the bullet genes with pyrosequencing."
  
  Gary nodded. "Right. If they're there, we should be able to find the sequences. Then we could at least predict which kittens will not be resistant to FHF."
  
  "Yes, but finding a DNA copy of the bullet wouldn't guarantee that a kitten would be resistant."
  
  Gary thought a moment. "Yeah, but if we could divide the kittens into two groups, one not likely to be resistant and the other possibly resistant, then, if, in fact, some of the possible group were resistant, that would be proof that our bullet worked."
  
  "I wish you'd get out of the habit of using the word proof when you mean confirmation. But you're right. I think we should get set up to look at that." He turned toward the kitchen where Vera had gone to fix the salad. "Vera, did you hear that?"
  
  "No," she called. "What is it?"
  
  Noah described the plan to test the kittens for the presence of the bullet. "Can you get cells from a newborn kitten? Say, epithelia from inside the mouth?"
  
  "Sure I can. That's a great idea." She paused. "Of course we may have a huge letdown. What if none of the cats has it? Then it's game over."
  
  "Of course that's possible. But does it matter if we know that sooner rather than later?"
  
  "I guess not. Oh, God, I'm scared. I thought I could take my mind off the cat thing for at least one day."
  
  "I seem to recall," he replied with humor, "you chastising me once for saying something to that effect. You said that caring people were talking of little else these days. Remember that?"
  
  "Yes. I guess the foot's in the other shoe."
  
  "These patties are about done," said Noah, changing the subject. "Who wanted medium?"
  
  The four sat down at the picnic table and did, somehow, manage to avoid the topic of FHF and the cats for the rest of the afternoon.