Chapter 105: Medicine Ceases to Exist
Lamarck continued, "I've seen potatoes cultivated in the northeast, for instance, from Metz and Lorraine all the way to Besançon. Some towns and villages there even use potatoes as their staple food. As for other regions... the people of Toulouse wouldn't even feed potatoes to their pigs; they claim it would contaminate the pork."
Joseph felt a surge of frustration. He had finally found a way to alleviate the great famine, yet the French would rather starve than eat this particular food.
Moreover, according to Lamarck, the nobility had embraced potatoes long ago. Why then, had it never influenced the common people?
Perhaps widespread promotion through newspapers and pamphlets, combined with free tastings, could make a difference.
He recalled Lamarck's earlier mention of some calling potatoes 'the devil's root from the earth.' This suggested that superstition was likely the primary reason for people's refusal. In that case, the Church's cooperation would be essential for promotion...
Subsequently, Joseph inquired further about potato cultivation from Lamarck. As they spoke, their carriage arrived at the gates of the pharmaceutical workshop.
"Your Royal Highness, it seems you have a profound interest in potatoes." Lamarck paused their conversation. "I can compile this information and transcribe it for you."
Observing Lamarck's eager expression, Joseph could only nod. "Thank you very much, Count Lamarck. In that case, let us begin the trial production of Penicillin now."
"You mean, Penicillin? Is that the name of this miraculous medicine?" Lamarck swiftly produced paper and a pen, immediately beginning to record.
The words "Penicillin" and "Penicillium" are too similar; it would be easy for people to connect the two.
Absolutely no information about this strategic medicine must be leaked.
The pharmaceutical workshop's grand doors were opened for Joseph and his companions by a Royal Guard—they had now taken over the security operations here.
Noticing the guards' crisp uniforms and the muskets slung over their backs, Joseph frowned slightly again. He instructed Captain Clauzel to have these guards change into plain clothes, lest they attract the attention of foreign spies.
Once the carriage halted in the open space at the center of the workshop, Eman immediately opened the door for the Crown Prince.
"Thank you," Joseph said, nodding to his close attendant. He alighted from the carriage and gazed around, observing that the place had changed significantly since his last visit.
Firstly, the ground was spotless. The workers' clothes and the equipment within the workshop were remarkably clean, almost uncharacteristic of 18th-century practice.
Beneath the awning on the right, there appeared to be drying racks laden with various raw materials that needed to be air-dried.
Workers bustled to and fro within the workshop, either transporting raw materials or loading finished medicines onto carriages.
Naturally, many more were busy at various instruments, frequently raising a hand to call out data to the nearby recorders, who in turn would remind them of operation times. Occasionally, faint wisps of steam drifted by, momentarily shrouding their figures.
Joseph nodded inwardly. Clearly, Lamarck had poured significant effort into managing this place; it was unlikely that all of Paris could boast a more professional pharmaceutical establishment.
He then toured the laboratory, confirming that it possessed the necessary conditions for producing Penicillin.
He turned to Lamarck. "Let us begin. First, please find some moldy items, specifically those with a blue-green hue."
Though Lamarck seemed somewhat surprised, he diligently jotted down the instruction in his notebook before turning and exiting the room.
Perhaps because the workshop's hygiene was exceptionally well-maintained, it took him a full half-hour to return with a few moldy dried corn cobs and a mold-ridden towel.
Joseph lowered his voice. "Now, for the most crucial detail—this Type I Antibiotic is actually a secretion of Penicillium mold, which can be extracted from these mold spots."
Lamarck's eyes widened in astonishment, but the Crown Prince had astonished him more than once before. He harbored no doubts whatsoever, simply continuing to record fervently.
Recalling documentaries he had once watched about Penicillin, Joseph explained, "So first, you must cultivate more mold. You can use corn, rice, potatoes, or similar items, forming them into a thin paste, and then place the mold upon it. Afterward, maintain a specific temperature—the exact degree you'll need to determine through experimentation—and after a few days, a large quantity of mold will proliferate."
"Furthermore, you must prepare to cultivate bacteria in advance to test the medicine's efficacy. For example, by placing phlegm from pneumonia patients into filtered broth or agar, controlling the temperature, and waiting for them to multiply..."
"Wait!" Lamarck exclaimed, having spotted a crucial point. "Are you saying there's something called 'germs' in the phlegm of pneumonia patients? Does this have anything to do with pneumonia?"
Joseph pressed a hand to his forehead, only then remembering that while the medical community of that era knew of bacteria's existence, they had yet to connect bacteria with diseases.
He could only offer Lamarck a rough explanation: "Phlegm indeed contains pathogenic components; specifically, a type of bacteria."
"Bacteria? Are you saying bacteria cause illness?!" Lamarck appeared extremely agitated. "No, this is entirely different from the Miasma Theory, the Humoral Balance Theory, or the Acid-Base Balance Theory! How do bacteria make people sick? How did you determine this? Is there a developed theoretical framework—"
"Well, those theories you mentioned—miasma, humors, and the like—are incorrect. And the answers you seek are actually within the medicine you are about to develop," Joseph interjected, stopping the inquisitive man from asking further questions. Explaining all this medical knowledge would be tedious, and besides, he didn't know much himself.
So, it would be better to wait until Penicillin was produced, allowing Lamarck to witness firsthand how Penicillin could "purify" phlegm cultures, i.e., pneumonia bacilli. Then, after observing Penicillin's ability to cure pneumonia patients, he would naturally grasp the connection between germs and disease.
Lamarck's hands trembled slightly. If the Crown Prince's words were true, then all the medical knowledge he had acquired would be utterly overturned! Or rather, the entire field of medicine would cease to exist as they knew it!
He desired neither outcome...
Lamarck suddenly pondered a philosophical question: 'If all previous medical knowledge was erroneous, would he still be considered a doctor, or should he be regarded as a charlatan, or perhaps a purveyor of falsehoods...'
He shook his head, striving to dismiss these maddening thoughts, and refocused his attention on the medicine. "Your Royal Highness, what should we do next?"
Joseph observed his pale face, let out a soft sigh, and continued, "Carefully filter the Penicillium culture solution. The exact filtration method will also need to be determined through your experiments."
"Since Penicillin is water-soluble, we can use oil to extract other substances from the filtrate, leaving only the bottom layer that is insoluble in oil."
"Afterward, purify it using activated carbon..."
"Activated carbon is what?" The inquisitive man's new point of confusion emerged.
"Oh, activated carbon is made by dry-burning wood blocks in a metal vessel—"
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