Under the Microscope

Infinitas Under the Microscope Issue 3 Fall 2015

Gwinnett School of Math, Science, and Technology 970 McElvaney Lane Lawrenceville GA, 30043

Table of Contents Title Page Author The Spider Cover May Yemon Dissecandi de Corpus I 1 Nathaly Mandujano Libellule 2 Marion Cassim Cut Crystal 3 Saman Khorasi Ode to Schrodinger’s Cat 5 Bryan Gomez Cameras 6 Stellah Indiya What Are You Looking At? 7 Sidney Oh Under My Heart 8 Taj Lowe Under the Sea 8 Taj Lowe A Closer Look at Alaska 8 Sahana Shridhar Untitled Magnification 9 Btandi Coahan Black is Not Sad 10 Jordan Lewis красота 11 Ekaterina Domashchenko Elegance 12 CesteLa Vie Spider Snooze 13 Michelle Kim Seaweed 13 Michelle Kim The Leaf 14 Nodir Gulyamov Finding the Kernel 15 Judson Baker Moments 19 Dhaivat Mehta Untitled 20 Isabella Lungu Bill Nie the Fashion Guy 21 Kathleen Park Huh? 22 Michelle Kim Mortalis 23 Frank Hu Untitled 27 Sophia Kim The Open Secret 28 Sabarish Sainathan Anatomy of a Butterfly 29 Mallory Sakmar * Science Fair 30 Jeffrey Yang * Science Fair 34 Satya Jella * Science Fair 39 Simran Modi Winter Parfait 46 Marion Cassim Delicacy 47 Ally Leon The Allure of Distance 48 Neena Anthony Self Reflection 49 Camtu Nguyen The Masks We Wear 50 Kunie Araba-Owoyele

Bug-Eyed Untitled A Mask is Only Worn…

Growing Up Lessons Untie the Knots Another Me Sparks Gabbro Don’t Tell Me Jar Society in Conflict Open Book

51 52 53 54 54 55 56 57 62 63 64 65 66

Quadre Curry-Wilkerson Mohona Mandal Sonrisa Angi Hyunh Myrah Khushbakht Vivian Lhyes Sidney Oh Micaiah Cowart May Yemon Vaishu Merugu Camtu Nguyen Jacob Ward Quadre Curry-Wilkerson

눈치

67

무명

Innie Universally Unique Stained Between Moments Watch -phobia Visual Journal II A Journal from the ICU Blood Humans Apollo Koi Fish Dissecandi de Corpus II

69 70 72 73 75 76 77 78 80 81 82 83 84

Camtu Nguyen Andrei Spatariu Sanchez James Michael Siochi Alyza Surani Sharon Kim Camtu Nguyen Sanchez Daniel Schwank Ian Graham Ekaterina Domashchenko Camtu Nguyen Nathaly Mandujano

* Every year GSMST students are required to submit an original research project to science fair. These three students achieved outstanding results at county and state competitions which qualified them to enter the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair and the International Project Olympiad.

Notes from the Editor We are proud to present the third issue of Infinitas, GSMST’s biannual literary magazine. We would like to thank everyone who contributed and congratulate Jeffrey Yang, Satya Jella, and Simran Modi for their achievement in reaching internationals in science fair. Because of these achievements, we challenged the students of GSMST to create their own works based on the theme Under the Microscope. As always, they rose to challenge and created phenomenal artistic works which we are honored to share with you. Thank you for coming along on the journey that is Infinitas.

-

Stellah Indiya

“This is what writing does to you: it makes you put everything under a microscope of metaphors and similes, surrounded by memories and reminiscences. It flies you up high and leaves you without gravity, without reference, and absolutely without destination.”

-

Ibraheem Hamdi

Dissecandi de Corpus I Nathaly Mandujano Under the light, secrets unfold But the head shrieks with denial For I once had the dream of becoming a beautiful poet To touch all my darkest fantasies, for you to know it For I once labeled home wherever I laid my head To seek safety in individuals every wish pled But the head was denied a home in another mind Under the light, secrets unfold But the mouth shrieks with rejection For I once continuously wished on a star that sparkled and broke To remind me that it takes losing it all to know true freedom’s stroke For I once whispered beauty with words, not glances To confess madness of lifestyle’s romances But the mouth was rejected a tongue Under the light, secrets unfold But the heart shrieks with vacancy For I once followed every path to heaven leading inside you To believe in the kindness of strangers I once knew For I once was a broken wreck, a lovely mess To numb the heart at your dulce, captivating presence But the heart was vacant in a disappointed woman Under the light, secrets unfold But the hand shrieks with immunity For I once went right where nothing’s left To go left where nothing’s right or deft For I once left the guy I loved for the guy I liked To get the hand’s pureness psyched But the hand was immune to all emotions

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Under the light, secrets unfold But the leg shrieks with despair For I once failed the feet dripping with saturated sunshine To point the moral compass to who’s really mine For I once ripped at every angle of your masterpiece To gear through the pages of ink and caprice But the leg was despaired with all paths

Under the light, secrets unfold And emotions are told Bodies are dissected Hearts are gold.

2

Cut Crystal Saman Khorasi Twinkle, dazzle, shine, and spark All were gone for the girl who lost her heart Laid there rusting, all alone No one to save her soul From the darkness of life Brisk autumn evening the wind blew Taking the leaves as the girl tried to get through To the other side where she couldn’t be watched As she saw life slip away while she thought That she had nothing to live for Strapped to the examination table Leaving the girl unable To be free and speak her mind And show the world that she was one of a kind And that she lived for herself But what good would it be If she spoke her mind and got lost in the sea Of critics, cruelly killing her dreams If she had no one on her team To prevent her from being attacked So she cut herself from the rope That was tying her to the microscope And she ran away From the darkness of day And didn’t look back

3

Ode to Schrodinger’s Cat Bryan Gomez This is not Cat in the Hat, this is cat in the box, with a radioactive substance that in an hour stat will start the paradox.

And at that moment the radioactive substance has a one half chance to decay, and if it does a Geiger Counter without reluctance will go off and cause dismay.

Because a machine attached to it will break a flask of hydrogen cyanide and the cat will only have a bit before he and the poison collide And the cat will have died.

But if that radioactive instability has a one half chance to decay, it also has a one half probability to sit there and delay.

And nothing will occur, the cat will sit amid, and the Geiger Counter won’t whir, and there will be peace under the box’s lid And the cat will have lived.

But at the atomic scale, things aren’t quite the same, quantum mechanics prevail, and our old rules are put to shame.

Because quantum mechanics tells a different fable, and when that single hour is done, 4

the substance is at the same time both stable and unstable, it has decayed and it has not, both sides have won And so the Geiger Counter creates sounds and also makes none.

But if that counter goes off and also does not then the poison is both released and also is not and therefore poison collides and also does not and so the cat is at the same time both alive and it is not.

And so when you are curious what will occur when you put a cat in the box, with a radioactive substance that in an hour stat will start a paradox Curiosity has and has not killed the cat.

5

Cameras Stellah Indiya “Daddy, look there’s a camera!” said the little boy, his eyes lighting up as he pointed. His father looked up and smiled, slightly confused that the little boy had noticed. But the boy just giggled, amused that it was there. They went about their day, filling up their shopping cart, and the moment was forgotten.

“Daddy look! Another camera!” the little boy shouted, attracting the attention of other customers. His father shushed the boy and reprimanded “It’s not polite to point.”

The little boy didn’t care and asked, just as loudly, “But it’s a camera Daddy, do you see it?”

Slightly exasperated with the conversation, and a little embarrassed, his father sighed and confirmed that yes he had seen the camera. The boy quieted down, his question appeased, and followed his father as they picked up their groceries for the week.

“Daddy, there’s the camera again. Are they taking our picture?” the little boy asked. He stared at his father, waiting for an answer. But his father was frozen, slightly afraid to answer his son’s question. The little boy, impatiently waiting for his answer, again called his father.

“Daddy, is the camera taking pictures of us?” he asked, pulling his father’s pant leg. His father, who hesitated for one moment more, took a breath and said, “No. No the camera is not taking pictures of us.” And even though he was being honest, he felt a little guilty at his half-truth. But he continued about the shopping trip, holding gently onto his son’s hand.

“Daddy, the camera’s there again. Why are they watching us?” the little boy asked as he leaned into his father’s side. His father stopped walking, struck silent by the question and stared ahead. He scrambled to find an answer, an answer to explain why the store had cameras watching their every movement. He struggled to find a way 6

to be honest without forcing his son to change his positive views of their society. But there was no answer, so he lied.

“I don’t know why.”

“Daddy, I think know why,” the boy said as he walked through the store with his father. “‘Why’ what?”

“Why the stores have cameras,” his son answered. “Why they’re watching us. It’s like how we watch the animals in the zoo. They’re waiting for us to do something cool or something we’re not supposed to be doing. It’s a little weird. To be watched, I mean.”

“Why is it weird?” his father asked, interested in his son’s thoughts. His son looked up at him, and calmly stated, “Well if they’re watching us, who’s watching them?”

7

Under My Heart Taj Lowe

Under the Sea Taj Lowe

What makes me love love My heart is What makes me hate hate My heart isn’t What makes me mad My heart doesn’t know What makes me happy My heart is What makes me happy My heart doesn’t know What makes me mad My heart isn’t What makes me hate hate My heart is What makes me love love

The sea is my life It grasps my feet, extorting me The sea is my life It hugs my legs, crawling up them slowly like a sloth The sea is my life It wraps around my chest, covering my body from neck down The sea is my life It devourers my head, leaving no sight of a hair on my head The sea is my death

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Untitled magnification Btandi Coahan Human beings are not monsters Instead, they are an unkillable bacteria that has infested, invaded, infected and destroyed it’s host sullied it’s home beyond repair Bodies litter the streets blood falls from the skies and tears are mined as if they are diamonds Since when was wealth counted in kills?

Human beings are not monsters If you look closely, past the needless pain, chaos, destruction You’ll see it’s all just an instinct a frenzy to live though we’ve always won Survival of the fittest We are no different than fish in a dead pool consuming our brethren because if we don’t, we’ll be the ones floating belly up

9

Black is not Sad Jordan Lewis I say, “Black is not sad.”

And you think, “Here’s another young, black girl, Getting ready to talk about oppression, and racism, and a struggle when She’s never really experienced any of the three.”

But, how do you know I was even talking about race?

Why is it 2015, and race is so ingrained in our minds that, black is no longer a color (Or the absence of color)?

Black is a representation of what happens when no matter what you do, you can never do anything right.

Black is one big group, Shoved into one tiny box Black is taking that box, thrusting it under a microscope, And leaving it there to be scrutinized. Forever.

Here’s my favorite: “That happened so long ago why you are worried about it?”

Why don’t you tell that to the families of all the young black men killed for walking down the street, or the young black women, raped on their way home from work I think the question is: Why are you so worried about what.I’m.doing?

Will I ever be taken out of the box, and removed from under the microscope?

And, don’t be confused I am proud to be black.

But I am not proud to be part of the misconstrued concept of what black has come to represent.

Because to me, Black is not sad. Black is not empty. Black is not depressing.

Black is strong. Black is poetic. Black is beautiful.

Black cannot be shoved into one box.

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11

Elegance CesteLa Vie A-one, a-two, a-three.

I feel the rhythm in my sole.

My pulse syncs with the sound.

What I need most: control.

One- step, two- step, turn.

My toes point to the ground, My chin is held up high, My hair is wrapped and bound.

Move, walk, a- two-and-three.

I spin and flourish my hand, My skirts follow my movements.

The crowd is mine to command.

Quick, quick, slow.

My sleek satin heels, Graze the waxed floor.

Only one of the ordeals.

Heel, heel, toe.

I twist, I turn, and bow, The crowd erupts in cheers, The time to rest is now.

I sashay off the floor, I greet my waiting fans, I calm my racing breaths.

For now I wait and pray for A little blue ribbon in my hands.

A smile upon my lips.

12

13

The Leaf Nodir Gulyamov The little boy, Excited and all.

Went outside, Excited for fall.

He liked the leaves, And how they fell.

But more he liked, Their tiny cells.

He gathered them fast, And took them in.

He had to examine, ‘Fore it was time for din.

Setting up his lab, With a grin on his face.

His heart was beating fast, Like he was in a race.

He turned on the light, On his tiny micro-scope.

And placed the leaf, On a slight slope.

His eyes burned up, With wonder and fire.

When he told his friends, They all called him a liar.

Now what I’m about to say, Will end your belief, But what the microscope showed, Was simply…a leaf.

14

Finding the Kernel Judson Baker Philip Cote rapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. In the chair opposite him, Professor Edouard Moulin sat uncomfortably, fidgeting periodically, and rambling as he so often did.

“With your approval, Professor Cote,” Moulin stammered, “and with the university’s funding, of course, I feel that my research will be an incredible asset to the budding field of bacteriology.”

“I have no doubt, Professor Moulin,” said Cote through pursed lips. “But my question is this: can you promise me that the potential for learning is worth the cost? Because what you are asking is not an easily conjured amount.”

“I understand that, Professor Cote,” Moulin responded tremulously, “but I assure you, it will be more than worth it. We know so little about the bacterial cell, and the microscope technology is so new. This field has not been pursued by other universities. We can be pioneers into this new world.”

“No doubt these other universities are avoiding the undertaking for the very same reason I am, Professor Moulin. Cost.”

“Yes, yes, well…” Moulin searched his vocabulary for something, anything, that might sound more argumentative. Suddenly his face lit up. “Professor Cote, sir, imagine the profit the University of Paris stands to make from being the first in the world to look upon the nucleus of a bacterial cell.”

Cote considered for a moment; indeed, this was the most tempting thing Moulin had said during their entire meeting. As the director of scientific ventures at the university, it was Cote’s responsibility to use discretion when handing out funds to hopeful researchers like Moulin. Microbiology was an almost entirely unexplored field, and the risk was almost as high as the potential reward. But if Moulin’s theories were correct (and Moulin had given the university no real reason to doubt him), then the fame and fortune would be legendary. The more Cote thought about it, the more he realised that Moulin was the best candidate for the grant. He was one of the university’s premier biological researchers, and the only microbiologist at the school. Then again, microbiology was an astonishingly tiny field, and experts were in low demand.

15

After a few moments of silence, Cote at last said, “Very well, Professor Moulin. You have your grant. You will work on the university grounds in the laboratory in the Biology Wing. I trust that suits your needs adequately?”

Moulin smiled widely and clapped his palms together. “Oh, most certainly, sir, most decidedly, sir! Thank you sincerely, and you will not regret it!”

The experimentation began officially when the university received a shipment of E. coli on ice from a supply company in Berlin, and a shipment of seventeen microscopes of the highest quality available. On the first day of their experimentation, Moulin addressed the multitude. “My loyal students,” he began, misty-eyed, “I cannot tell you how thrilled I am at the opportunity presented before me.” He coughed. “Us, presented before us. We have the chance to show the world something that has never been seen before. Fame and recognition stand at our door. Let us not fall short of our potential.”

After this short speech, the research process began in earnest.

Each intern obtained a sample of frozen E. coli cells and slid them onto a disinfected glass slide. Once the sample sat under the lens of the microscope, the students spent several minutes toying with the lens configuration, refining the image of the cells until it was crisp and clear.

The interns laboured over their microscopes for hours on end, ceaselessly fiddling with the lens assembly, trying to divine the secrets that the cells were hiding from them. They had all been briefed thoroughly by Professor Moulin, and so they all knew what they were looking for: the bacterial nucleus. But where to find it: that was the question that had eluded all of them.

None worked harder than Professor Moulin himself. While the interns were devoted to their professor, the professor was devoted only to his pride, and pride was a much more potent motivator for him than for any of the interns. Moulin would work hours into the night, long after the interns had left for their dormitories. When the sun set and the laboratory became shrouded in darkness, he would light several candles, hoping that their pitiful glow would illuminate the lenses of the microscope.

16

Months passed, and little to no progress was made. They were all at a loss; Moulin’s research had hypothesized a precise location for the bacterial nucleus, and yet still, not one of the researchers had been able to find it. Moulin had theorized the nucleus was contained within a congealed pit of genetic matter, hidden away from all but the most persistent of observers. He was certain of it.

But still, nothing. Professor Cote had come to the laboratory several times, demanding a report of Moulin’s progress. Each time, Moulin had nothing to show.

“I assure you, Professor Cote,” Moulin would stammer, “all we need is a little bit more time. I am quite sure that the nucleus is there, somewhere, I promise you.”

“A little bit more time, yes, and a little bit more money, too, I suppose!” Cote shouted, incensed. “This university does not have the resources to keep playing host to your games, Moulin. Show me results. Show me progress. Or your tenure here is gone.”

Cote’s threats sent Moulin into a panic, and he rushed the experimentation even more. Interns had begun to cut the cells apart, a delicate process indeed, given that the cells were but a few micrometres wide. They hoped the nucleus might be hidden deep inside. Still they found nothing.

Many of the interns decided that the work was more stressful than they had bargained for, and they stopped coming to the laboratory. Three months had passed, and Moulin had lost seven interns. He had gained nothing.

One day, one of the interns confronted Moulin.

“Professor, we’ve been searching for this blasted nucleus for nearly four months, and not one of us is any closer to finding it than the day we started! I tell you the truth, I’m really considering that there are no nuclei in these cells at all!”

Moulin stared at the intern, silent for a long minute. “JeanClaude,” he said finally, “are you suggesting that I have failed?”

“I’m not suggesting it,” the intern replied. “I’m stating the fact.

You’ve failed, and I refuse to waste my time here any longer.”

At this, Moulin laughed. “Fine then, you stupid, small-minded fool.

Leave. When we find the nucleus, we will be lauded as heroes of science. You will be nothing.” He laughed again, fitfully and madly.

The other interns looked at one another tenuously.

17

The intern Jean-Claude addressed them all. “Look at this man! He has lost his composure, his professionalism, his sanity in pursuit of this thing. And what is it? A myth! Nothing but pride propels him. If you stay here, you are crazier than he is.”

He stormed out. Seconds passed, and three other interns followed him. The door of the lab slammed behind them, and Moulin laughed madly once again.

“Failure, they say!” He cackled. “There is no failure, gentlemen.

Only patience.” His laughter fell suddenly. He was quiet. “Please. Don’t leave. Have patience.”

After four months, all of the interns had left the project, and it was only Moulin. Professor Cote had cut off the funding. Moulin never left the laboratory. He stayed there for days on end, never sleeping, never eating, drinking only from the spigot at the back of the room.

His microscope was his whole world now; it, and the cells under it.

They were all that he cared about.

On the second week of the fifth month, a news bulletin arrived from Alés, France. A researcher by the name of Pasteur had decided that bacterial cells have no nuclei. They were members of a rare group of cells known as prokaryotes; cells lacking a nucleus. He decided that there would be no need for anyone else to attempt finding the bacterial nucleus; it simply wasn’t there, he concluded.

The news travelled quickly to Moulin. He had been working feverishly at his microscope when one of the interns burst in, brandishing a newspaper like a sword. He slapped it on Moulin’s desk.

Slowly, Moulin turned his head away from the microscope and onto the newspaper.

He said nothing. He merely stood and walked to the window of the laboratory. He stared out, silent and stony-faced.

The intern began, “Professor Moulin, sir, you don’t need to…”

“Silence, Pierre,” Moulin said quickly.

“But sir,” the intern stammered. “Let’s at least look to the positives. There’s…”

“No, Pierre,” Moulin said again. He turned his head to look at the intern. Moulin’s eyes were bloodshot, his face ragged, his shoulders slumped. “There is simply nothing to say.”

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Moments Dhaivat Mehta A spark, a flash of brilliance With lightning’s blinding radiance Moments of quantum leaps Extending mankind’s reach The apple falling on Newton’s head To Tim Berners’ creation, the World Wide Web Results of spectacular endeavors Re shaped human civilization forever Armstrong’s footprint on the moon To mankind a boon Archimedes’ Eureka! moment Math and Science transcend Alfred Hitchcock’s early thrillers Moments are our pillars Like Apollo rockets shooting out of sight Moments only last a slight Magic is sprouted In a second history re-routed Molecules smash In a blinding flash A nuclear crash Higgs-boson and magic emerge from the ash With every eureka yelled Discovery was weld

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These moments seem ephemeral Yet they last forever indelible They are the climax of inhuman effort The hardest mountain to climb The beauty in these moments has been Building up for infinite time They are inspiring at the start, certainly But more so for what they do over eternity

20

Bill Nie the Fashion Guy Kathleen Park

I wasn’t born in the technology age! How do they expect me to use a computer to find a form? Why are they making me do this even though I clearly told them I cannot deal with technology?

It was not a good day. Bill was as irritated as an eye with an infection.

But Bill was a good guy who tried to forget about the day’s happenings and move on with life, like he’d been doing for all the past years.

So let’s see.

He lowered his rhinestone-studded glasses.

As long as I follow everything step by step, it should work.

With his tired eyes he peered through the glowing computer screen and with several deliberate clicks made it to the website.

“Wow, I could get the hang of this,” Bill praised himself.

this.

Okay, but how do I get to the form? Oh I see, there’s a tab for

He clicked on the tab. The screen turned white as it refreshed, but in a second returned the screen.

button.

What? Why isn’t the screen changing? I thought I pressed the

He remembered what his young nephew had said. “If it doesn’t work, then just refresh the page or start over.” Bill did all of this again and again, but the screen still did not change. Bill was annoyed at the website’s designer for making it impossible to reach the form. He just wanted to get this task over with so he could go get his foot massage.

This made Bill think of the times earlier in the day when he hated his coworkers. When Sally had closed the refrigerator door as he was about to grab his coffee. When Agatha turned his once sharp shearing scissors into blunt ones. He didn’t give it much thought before, but now in his fit of anger, they mattered. All these thoughts spun around in his head.

Okay if this screen does not work in one last try I am going to destroy everything.

Bill gave the world one last chance and swiveled the cursor over the refresh button.

Double click.

Alas, the same screen.

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The years of his contained anger unleashed. Bill felt his body temperature rising and his face raging red. He gently placed the computer aside and flipped the table that was under the computer. He flipped the chairs surrounding the tables. He flipped the keyboard and keys rained everywhere. His nephew came rushing in and gaped at the remnants of his uncle’s rage tantrum.

Puzzled, the nephew went to the computer to find out what had disturbed his uncle so badly. He clicked the refresh button. White.

He tried Internet Explorer. Still white. Finally, he tried zooming out of the screen and...

There was the form.

Bill silently began picking up the broken keyboard pieces.

22

Mortalis Frank Hu Day 4000.

The wall is nearly covered with marks now; it is pretty satisfying to look at. Everyday seems another small victory, even if it has been nearly 11 years.

I found another volume of the Encyclopedia today; someone had left it at a nearby bus station. I guess they forgot and never bothered to come back for it. The pages are a bit yellowed and the binding is beginning to peel off, but I can still make out the words. It’ll make a nice addition to my collection.

The broken windows in the living room are becoming a problem; the winter nights are getting very cold, so I’ll have to find some boards to cover those up. Some more firewood would also be nice, but maybe later; it’s raining now.

I like the rain.

It’s strange, how fascinating it is. The skies become gray, the trees rustle in the wind, and everywhere there comes the soft patter of rain drops. Sitting by the window and looking out, marveling and observing everything-it’s simply bliss.

Still, even more, it’s a good time for reflection; as difficult as it is, I won’t stop until I’ve answered those two questions, always there invariably in my head: Who am I? Why am I here?

Thinking is hard, and my thoughts are so jumbled; I remember very little, and of what I know, some of it might be true and some of it might be false -It’s impossible to tell which is which, so I don’t bother.

Instead, I’ve decided to light a candle and write down what I can instead of watching another rainy day go by. It’s only a matter of time before it’s all gone, faded from memory…

`There used to be a laboratory where I was held captive, but I gradually lost track of the days. Not like it would’ve done me any good other than to remind me of how I was wasting away.

When did I gain my sentience is beyond me; my earliest memories were of the scientists who worked there. I watched them from behind glass as they rushed around experimenting, arguing, 23

conversing, never understanding a word of it but somehow knowing it was about me.

I hated it, every second, every wasted moment stuck in there; maybe they knew, and maybe they enjoyed it, scrutinizing me with their cruel, unfeeling eyes. I just stared back at them, but it made no difference; these monsters created me, and my freedom was their decision.

Every day for however many years, the routine was the same; they worked from early morning to late night, and then left the guards in charge of the facility before returning the next day to continue working. It’s strange, but I gradually felt some sort of respect for them, even without any idea of their intentions; such devotion to whatever goal was admirable.

Out of all of them, I know only one name: Dr. Malcolm Weise.

No, it’s not mine, that’s for certain, because I won’t forget his face; names are meaningless without much else. He boasted large brown eyes that shone bright with some unnatural light, and wore circular glasses that were far too big. I’ve seen my reflection before, and there is no resemblance. A strange man, he never talked with the others but rather stood off to the corner, staring blankly at something or immersed in his work. Even more unusual were his habits, always the first one to arrive and last to leave, never absent.

However, there was something sinister about him, so much so that even I could feel it. The others did too, avoiding contact with him or shifting uncomfortably in his presence. Though he rarely betrayed any emotion, it was always as if he were plotting something, contemplating some intricate and great scheme that no one knew about. The ambiguity made it all the more frightening.

Growing increasingly erratic, it came to the point that he just didn’t leave the facility anymore, and would spend all night and day in the laboratory, sleeping in the corner. The guards didn’t seem to mind; they found the whole scenario pretty funny. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

This went on for maybe a week or so until one night he did the unthinkable, and drained my suspension chamber. For the first time, I saw the outside clearly.

It was nothing short of incredible.

He was scared, I could tell, fidgeting around with his hands while he watched me. Lack of sleep had carved deep eye bags into his 24

visage and his thin dry lips were stretched into an apprehensive grin. I felt my feet touch the ground, but even then he didn’t move. We simply stared at each other. I won’t forget that look, both regret and excitement.

I stretched out my arm and pressed it against the glass, and he followed my every movement. Abruptly, and as if against his own will, he walked up and grasped the handle, heaving it open in one swift motion.

His mouth quivered as if to utter something, but I heard nothing.

And then I realized what an opportunity this was, where the only thing standing between me and liberation was this one man, unarmed, unprepared, and beautifully oblivious and awestruck. Which was worth more then, my liberty or his life?

My coordination was surprisingly precise. Reaching out, I seized him by the throat and raised him in the air. He was kicking and struggling and calling out hoarsely for the guards on patrol, but to no avail. I forced my fingers to contract, and the color drained out of him.

In an instant, his neck snapped like a dry twig, and his head drooped to the side.

He was gone, and that was my first encounter with death.

As I threw him aside, I was struck with another realization, that there was still more to be learned about these creatures, and here was a perfect specimen for just that purpose. I hastily looked about for supplies, and after a brief search, gathered a collection of knives and various other instruments.

They had done this many, many times; rabbits, squirrels, frogs, pigs, and all dissected with a mechanical, unfeeling precision, their fingers turning like clockwork.

Maybe it’s ironic, then, what happened that night. I handled the knife like they did, though far from their degree of accuracy.

Jamming the knife into the chest, I made a haphazard cut down the body, tearing through muscle and tissue and snapping the bones that stood in my way, all the while dark red blood splattering over the examination table. At long last, the grisly task was complete, and I had my answer, seeing how everything was put together, like a puzzle with perfect pieces.

25

But perhaps what fascinated me the most was the uniformity of everything. Everything had its designated place and probably a purpose.

Now I had a comparison. So what was I -- human, animal, or something else entirely?

A look in the mirror was all it took.

I am nothing like them, I can’t even be considered living. They are like a work of art, carefully crafted, intricate in design. I was made in a laboratory, a walking patchwork of spare parts that had no business of being together, a biomass that went rogue.

They attempted to create a life form, and all they ended up with was an abomination. Only three things were similar, the ability to think and feel, and most importantly, to assess. I tried finding some information on myself, but only a few loose files of jargon I couldn’t understand.

It was obvious then, I had to escape. They couldn’t know. A bit of pounding on the windows and the glass shattered easily, though the sound attracted attention. Inching my way through the crevice, I could hear the echoing footsteps, my heart (if you can even call it that) pounding. Dropping onto the ground, I ran for it, blindly going in what I assumed to be one direction.

Explosions erupted behind me along with the voices of angry men, shouting for backup and sprinting towards me. Heaving myself over the fence, I landed heavily on the asphalt and continued running, feet pounding the rough ground.

Tearing off the main road, vehicles roared in my wake and a helicopter whirred overhead. The forest was harder to maneuver, but it was the safer path. For four days, I never stopped, never tiring, always running…

So here I am, scrawling away under a dying candle. I guess writing helps, even if it is nothing more than purely recall. I doubt I will ever know who I am, but at the very least, I know what I am. That, at least, is somewhat comforting.

Why am I here?

The impossible question, and maybe I should just accept it as that. Why would they go through all that trouble to make me? What purpose could I possibly serve?

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The only way to find out is to go back and ask them, which is never happening. Maybe, now that I think about it, it’s better not knowing. What if it had been something terrible? I’ll leave it at that-no point in going any further, I don’t understand how others think; I barely have control of my own thoughts!

But for now, I’ll just think they did it to prove something, to show the world that they could. So that’s what I’ll think of my purpose, that I am proof.

Proof of what happens when man tries to become god.

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The Open Secret Sabarish Sainathan Every secret begins in a rose cage, So aged, yet ever so young, Shut by a bond, no, a pact of love Of a strength, for the most, unsung.

That secret frolics and begins to grow And amends its guardians’ flaws, Yet begs and pleads to break its cage By tongue, Nature’s fickle saw.

Into the night that secret runs, Tingeing all that was pink beige, Breaking the eternal love once built, And replacing it with scarlet rage.

Yet the night that hides Oft gives way to a day that illuminates all, And those who see but do not know Are the harshest judges of them all.

Every secret ends atop a giant hill, From which the ignominy is most apparent, And the sharpest critics aren’t those who look from above But rather those who observe from below.

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Universal MTFM Probe to Visualize Receptor Forces in Living Cells Universal Molecular Tension-based Fluorescence Microscopy Probe to Visualize Receptor Forces in Living Cells Jeffery Yang Gwinnett School of Mathematics, Science, and Technology Introduction Proper cell function relies heavily on the interactions between the cell and its environment. Mechanosensitive proteins, for example, sense external mechanical forces to initiate signaling pathways within the cell. Muscle, bone, and other mechanically strained tissue also depend on mechanotransduction – the process of biochemical actions being triggered by cells in response to mechanical forces. Studies on this crucial relationship between cells and external mechanical forces have been limited by the lack of a means to image real-time interactions between biological systems. This research explores a novel mechanism to map forces between cellular cytoskeleton and the extracellular matrix. An organic force probe was developed that utilizes fluorescence resonance energy transfer, biotin-streptavidin binding, and RGD-integrin interactions to measure changes in distance as fluorescence signal, which can subsequently be converted to the mechanical forces exerted by the cell onto the extracellular matrix.

Fluorescence Resonance Energy Transfer Fluorescence resonance energy transfer (FRET) describes the interaction between two fluorophores, where the fluorescence emission spectrum of one fluorophore overlaps with the excitation spectrum of a collateral fluorophore6. When the first fluorophore, referred to as the donor, is directly excited, it will emit a wavelength that the subsequent fluorophore, known in this system as the quencher or acceptor fluorophore, can harness. The amount of energy transferred between the two molecules is calculable: the efficiency of energy transfer is represented with a rational function of the inverse sixth power of the distance between the molecules, where efficiency decreases drastically per the distance increased.

By comparing the amount of energy emitted by the quencher to the amount accepted by the donor, the distance between the two fluorophores can be calculated. This method requires the original source of energy to be a wavelength absorbable only by the donor 30

fluorophore, so that any signal detected from the quencher fluorophore will be a direct result of energy transfer. When the two molecules are close, the presence of the emission wavelength of the quencher fluorophore will indicate the proximity of the two fluorophores6. As the distance between the two fluorophores increase, signal from the emission wavelength of the quencher will decrease whereas that of the donor will increase.

Mechanotransduction The basis of cell communication relies on cellular reception and transduction of a signal. Traditionally, molecules or ions activate a membrane receptor to relay chemical signals to activate a cellular response. The concept of mechanotransduction involves the use of extracellular physical forces rather than signaling molecules to activate downstream biochemical pathways16. These forces can range from macroscale to nanoscale mechanical loads, both ultimately causing structural changes to cellular cytoskeleton13. The physical properties of the cells, their surroundings, and the extracellular matrix will determine the manner in which the cells interact with these forces. Both the physical and chemical responses reflect valuable information about cell behavior. For example, diseases such as arthritis, osteoporosis, and cancer all result from abnormal physiological responses to mechanical stimuli.

Force Probe Mechanism Implementations of FRET imaging include mechanisms for detecting forces and stress between macromolecules. By attaching the two fluorophores to a linker molecule, a ruler is created where the distance between the acceptor and donor will alter based on the conformation of the linker. With this model, the distance between the fluorophores are not only constrained, but have the potential to be controlled. Molecular springs, such as poly(ethylene-glycol)(PEG), have a flexible backbone chain that can be stretched by pulling. When at a resting state, PEG forms helices, causing a nonlinear conformation.

The polymer uncoils when force is applied, but keeps its spring-like properties, allowing for calculations of the force applied based on its deformation.

The force probe was attached on the a-terminus to a passivated glass surface through click chemistry. Since the probe will 31

be used to measure cell behavior, its opposing end, the b-terminus, will be targeting a type of transmembrane receptor, integrin, which is responsible for interactions between the cell and its surroundings.

Unique transmembrane receptors can recognize certain ligands, and integrins have binding sites for RGD(Arg-Gly-Asp) peptides. Exploiting this natural affinity, RGD peptides were attached onto the force probe, which enables the probe to be recognized by the cell through integrins. The peptides were attached to the probe at the b-terminus in a series of steps, using the bonding mechanism of biotin and streptavidin. Biotin molecules have a strong affinity for streptavidin, which has binding sites for the biotin to bind onto. A pair of biotin was first attached onto the end of the force probe, followed by exposure to and a consequent binding of streptavidin. This will ideally cause any biotinylated molecule to have an affinity towards the b-terminus of the force probe, and biotinylated RGD can now bind onto the probe.

Zwitterion Synthesis The zwitterionic SBS molecules will mimic the lipid bilayer of cell membranes. For preliminary experimentation, the zwitterions will create an environment similar to the natural cell environment. They will be covalently bonded to the glass surface to assist in the prevention of nonspecific interactions in the environment of the force probe. Testing under this synthetic 2-D environment is the first step to measuring the functionality of the probe.

Data Fibroblast cells from mice were used for imaging. The data confirms the hypothesis that when imaged for the emission frequency of the quencher, the signal shows illumination. The fluorescence microscopy images can be converted through a series of calculations to determine the amount of tension exposed to the sensor. The brightfield and RICM images outline the shape of the cell, and the Force Response image details the gradient of signal received by fluorophore emissions. The Force Map image (calculated by the Salaita Lab at Emory University) converts light intensity into force using a series of calculations, and is included to emphasize the utility of the force probe.

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Conclusions and Future Direction The probe proved operational under a synthetic environment, and future plans will be made to test the mechanism in vivo. This first test was only to prove the concept, and in vivo application of the probe will require that the probe can be effectively imaged in a 3-D environment. In order to test this, a 3-D synthetic environment can be created using porous gels such as Polydimethylsiloxane (PDMS). The gel will serve as a scaffold, and the sensor will be modified on the gel before introducing the cell. Two-dimensional cross-sectional images can be taken in succession and modeled into a 3-D representation of the cell. In order to test the probe in a living environment, it must be redesigned to comprise materials that humans can synthesize. A theoretical solution is to replace all parts of the probe with protein based counterparts. The fluorophores will be replaced with fluorescent proteins and the PEG with elastic proteins. Lastly, the probe can be introduced into an embryo through plasmid encoding.

Application of this probe to study cells extends to studies based on cancer. When a cell mutates to develop cancer-like behaviors such as anchorage independence, it will respond differently to biophysical cues from the extracellular matrix. It has been studied that the micromechanical forces of the ECM, however, are connected to the signal transduction networks relevant to tumor transformation and metastasis. Mapping and comparing the behavior of healthy and cancer cells through their interactions with external forces may lead to a better understanding of the mutation of cells and the development of cancerous tumors.

The purpose of this research was not to provide a direct solution, but a concept and tool that can be used for further research in areas regarding mechanotransduction. Wound healing, hearing and deafness, and the development of malignant tumors are examples of areas of research in which this force probe concept can speculatively develop.

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Vaccines and the Thermophilic Gene Satya Jella Gwinnett School of Mathematics, Science, and Technology Abstract To help vaccinate the rural population of Africa, who do not have easy access to electricity and refrigeration, the thermophilic gene could be added to common vaccines to help them remain potent. For this project, genomes of both mesophiles and thermophiles (ambient temperature and heat-loving, respectively) were analyzed. First, three thermophilic genomes were compared. The goal of this comparison was to find the longest common substring in all genomes. To make sure that this sequence is coding for thermophilic qualities, rather than replication or shape etc, the genomes of one archaea and one bacteria were used. After this, the sequence was searched for in 3 mesophilic genomes that commonly affect humans. Since the genome was not present in any of these three genomes, it was concluded that this string is a strong candidate to be the thermophilic gene. The resultant string was AAATGGCCG. The next step in this experiment is to use DNA splicing to give the gene to mesophiles, which can then be weakened. The resultant vaccines will be heat-resistant, and able to survive the trip from metropolitan areas to rural Africa. This can help improve the standards of living and life expectancies in these regions.

Statement of Purpose and Hypothesis Vaccines are ubiquitous in the developed world, providing immunity to people against deadly diseases, enabling a healthy population and thus a robust economy. However, emerging economies like Africa suffer from preventable childhood and adolescent diseases that can be contained or eradicated by use of vaccines: infant mortality rate is as high as 51% in parts of Africa. These regions lack the infrastructure to support a refrigerated cold-chain that vaccines require, and the infrastructure growth and development is impeded by their current economic status (immunize.org, n.d.). To enable the sustainable vaccination of the people of Africa, the vaccines must be able to survive a trip without the cold-chain. The best method currently used to do this, hydrogels, can protect the vaccine from disintegration, but they have a side effect of being toxic to cells (Mohri, 2014). However, using microbial genomes, a solution can be 34

engineered to help vaccinate the people of Africa. This project brings in elements of biology through the use of genomes, and computer programming through the use of a program to compare the genomes.

Research was conducted to gather data on microbial genomes and the computer programs available to compare them. The programs have to be able to read the genomes, and find similar portions in each genome. The longest such string they find will be the heat-resistant (thermophilic) gene, provided it is found in all heat-resistant genomes and no ambient-temperature (mesophilic) genomes.

In the future, this string can be synthesized in the laboratory, and spliced into disease-causing microbes. The microbes can then be weakened, and the resultant vaccine can be used in rural Africa, to improve standards of living and life expectancies.

If the correct genomes are run through the programs, then the thermophilic gene can be identified.

Materials and Experimental Methods Variables: The Independent Variable will be the genomes run through the program. Different genomes should provide different results, and if the same results are found in all thermophilic genomes, those results may be the thermophilic gene.

The Dependent Variable will be the resultant string which is outputted by the programs. Ideally, this string should be found in all thermophilic genomes and no mesophilic genomes.

The Controlled Variables will be the programs and the computer used to run the programs. The programs must be the same so that the resultant string will be the same; the computer must be the same to ensure that the same amount of memory is used to compare each genome, in case the genome size is too large.

Materials List: Microbial Genomes (.txt format) mesophilic) Program: Longest Common Substring (LCS) Program: Clean Genomes Program: Remove String Computer

6 (3 thermophilic, 3 1 1 1 1 35

Procedure: (After Writing Code) 1. Clean all genomes by using the “Clean Genome” code. This works by removing all paragraphs not beginning with A, G, C, or T. Scroll through genome to double check.

2. Run LCS code with two thermophilic genomes. The result should be the longest common substring.

3. Run LCS with the resultant substring and the third genome. If no result, continue shortening the substring and comparing until found in the third genome.

1. If no result after significant shortening, use “remove string” code to remove the substring from the first two genomes. Repeat from step 2 onwards.

4. Use the LCS program to see if the string can be found in any mesophilic genomes. If it is not found, then that string is the result. If it is found, use the Remove String program to remove the string from all genomes and start with Step 2 again.

Code: All of the code was written in Python, because this computer language is simple, and can be easily written and modified. For the LCS code, the first code read the two strings character by character to see if the two strings matched at any place. However, the problem with this code was that if the longest matching substring was at different points in each genome (i.e. the 10th-20th characters in one genome and the 12th-22nd characters in the second genome), then the substring could not be found. To solve this problem, the code was changed, using a matrix to store all possible substrings and find the longest one. This new code took more time to run, but it produced the expected results when run on test strings.

The “Clean Genomes” and the “Remove String” codes were simple. Clean Genomes opens and reads the genome, deleting all paragraphs that do not begin with a nucleotide (A, G, C, or T). It also makes all letters uppercase, so that a substring may be found (case matters with LCS). “Remove String” utilizes a simple python “sed” command to remove an input string from a genome. Both of these are short, and there was only 1 draft per code.

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Genome Selection: Because the goal of the experiment was to find the thermophilic gene, three thermophilic genomes had to be used. To obtain a final substring that was definitely responsible for the heatloving quality of the microbes, the microbes whose genomes were used would ideally differ in every respect except for the thermophilic quality. To accomplish this, each microbe selected had a different shape and size. In addition, two of the microbes were bacteria, while the third was an Archaean (one of the most ancient microbes on Earth). By varying the type of microbe, more accurate results were obtained.

Thermophiles:

Thermoplasma Volcanium (bacteria) Thermomicrobium Roseum (bacteria) Sufolobus Solfactarius (Archaean) Mesophiles: Measles (bacteria) Mumps (bacteria) Influenza (H1N1) (virus) Data and Analysis of Results The Longest Common Substring between Thermoplasma Volcanium and Thermomicrobium Roseum was AAAATGGCCGACGA. In the third thermophile, Sulfolobus Solfactarius, the string was shortened to AAATGGCCG. This string was not found in any mesophilic genomes. This string is of the expected length, and has a high possibility of being a key portion of the thermophilic gene.

Discussion of Analysis and Conclusion When the first two genomes (Thermomicrobium Roseum and Thermoplasma Volcanium) were compared, the program was killed due to the extreme length of the genomes. Various genome lengths were tested, and the top length the computer could reasonably handle was 10,000 characters, so the genomes were cut off after the 10,000th character. Once the first two genomes were compared at this length, the result was a 14-letter string. The string was searched for in the third thermophilic genome (Sulfolobus Solfactarius). The string was 37

not present in the genome, so the string was shortened until it was found. After this step, the string length was 10 characters. The next step was to search for the string in mesophilic genomes. It was searched for in 3 common disease-inducing microbes: Influenza, Measles, and Mumps. Because the string was not found, it became the final result. This experiment was designed to show a method, rather than produce a final answer. This string is of the expected length, considering that only exact matches were counted, and only in the first 10,000 characters. To truly get the complete results, a supercomputer would have to be used to compare many genomes, and less-than-perfect matches would have to be considered, as mutations and imperfections in the genome sequencing may affect the exact string. The next step in this experiment is to use the supercomputer, and to use DNA splicing to implant this gene into mesophilic microbes. If the shape and nature of the resultant hybrid still matches the shape of the original mesophile, it can be used as a vaccination which does not need a cold-chain to remain potent. The possibilities could be endless.

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Novel Antibiotic Targets Based on Quantification of 2'3'-cNMPs: Discovery of Protein Targets for HigB Toxin and Proteus vulgaris Antibiotics Simran Modi Emory University Gwinnett School of Mathematics, Science, and Technology Abstract This project focuses on the quantification of 2’3’-cyclic nucleotides in Proteus vulgaris toxin HigB and how these molecules function as second messengers in both hormone and ion-channel signaling in eukaryotic cells. The interactions and effects on the bacterial cells were compared in stressed and unstressed environments to determine the role of 2’3’-cyclic nucleotides. The effects on the E. coli cells were studied when the HigB toxin was induced. Then, levels of 2’3’-cAMP, 2’3’-cGMP, 2’3’-cCMP, and 2’3’cUMP were measured to determine which nucleotides are released in significant amounts during the bacterial stringent response and mRNA degradation. Samples were analyzed using liquid chromatographymass spectrometry, or LC-MS, which is an analytical chemistry technique. Results and analysis showed that 2’3’-cAMP played the greatest role in the bacterial stringent response and degradation pathway, showing that the interaction of 2’3’-cAMP may play a role in HigB biofilm formation and bacterial pathogenesis. 2’3’-cAMP is a viable target for the development of new antibiotic drugs within the HigB-HigA toxin-antitoxin system based on the levels of 2’3’-cNMPs found in the E. coli cells, which served as a model for Proteus vulgaris with the HigB toxin. Research is supported by Emory University.

Statement of Purpose The objective of this study is to quantify cyclic nucleotides from E. coli using liquid chromatography-tandem mass spectrometry.

The reason for this is that the role of 2’3’-cNMPs has never been elucidated, and their role in biofilm formation as well as bacterial pathogenesis is unknown. The need for this experiment is to develop novel antibiotics by targeting proteins involving degradation of mRNA. The data collected will be analyzed and it will be determined how the results can be best applied to humans; the goal is to identify targets that will allow the development of antibiotics to inhibit biofilm 39

formation in a variety of bacteria, such as Proteus vulgaris. Later on, this research will be used to identify other specific proteins, genes, and pathways involved biofilm formation in diseases such as myocardial infarction, cancer, and cholera.

Hypothesis The concentration of 2’3’-cNMPs can be quantified in E. coli cells using liquid chromatography-mass spectrometry. Based on literary research and prior knowledge, if present in high levels based on LC-MS analysis, 2’3’-cAMP, 2’3’-cUMP, 2’3’-cCMP, and 2’3’-cGMP are key components in the cell degradation pathway. If arabinose is added to HigB plates, then the concentrations of all four 2’3’-cNMPs will be greater than if cyclic nucleotides are quantified in plates without arabinose because this indicates that the toxin has been induced in the sample. Overall, 2’3’-cAMP should have the greatest presence in the cells based on the role of 3’5’-cAMP as a cell signaling molecule. This can lead to the development of potential protein targets for novel antibiotics in which 2’3’-cNMPs can be blocked in mRNA cleavage to allow for protein translation.

Materials 1. E. coli cultures harboring HigB-wt toxin genes in pBAD24 2. M9 Medium to grow E. coli cells, composed of: ammonium chloride-2 g, calcium chloride-0.1 mM/29.40 mg, magnesium sulfate heptahydrate-2 mM/985.88 mg, sodium chloride-1 g, sodium phosphate-25.6 g, potassium phosphate-6 g, glucose8 g, distilled water-2.4 L 3. Agar plates 4. 4 L bottles to hold medium 5. Cassamino acids-4 g 6. 1 L flasks 7. Ampicillin 8. Industrial freezer 9. Autoclave 10. Incubator 11. Plastic test tubes 12. Rotary evaporator 13. Sonicator: Ultrasonic Liquid Processor 14. Centrifuge 40

15. Liquid Chromatography-Mass Spectrometry Machine Methods Experimental Procedure 1. Wash hands thoroughly.

2. Put on lab coat, goggles, and gloves.

3. Prepare M9 salts by adding 25.6 g of sodium phosphate, 6 g of potassium phosphate, 1 g of sodium chloride, and 2 g of ammonium chloride to 0.4 L of distilled water.

4. Prepare M9 medium by adding 0.4 L of M9 salts to 1.4 mL of water containing 2 mM magnesium sulfate heptahydrate and 0.1 mM calcium chloride dihydrate.

5. Autoclave the 1.8 L solution and allow to cool to room temperature.

6. Add 8 g of glucose into 0.2 L of sterile distilled water.

7. Filter this into the 1.8 L of autoclaved medium to give a final volume of 2 L. 8. Add 4 g of cassamino acids via sterile filtration.

9. Prepare an M9 minimal medium with 0.4% glycerol and 2 g/L cassamino acids.

10. Inoculate 5 mL of M9 minimal medium with 0.4% glucose containing 50 ug/mL ampicillin with a single colony from a M9 glucose plate containing HigB wt.

11. Grow two overnight cultures for 18 hours at 37 degrees Celsius with shaking.

12. Use two 2 mL aliquots of the overnight culture to inoculate two 1 L flasks, each containing 100 mL M9 with 0.4% glucose, 2 g cassamino acids, and 50 ug/mL ampicillin.

13. After reaching an optical density of approximately 0.7 or after 6 hours of growth, centrifuge cultures at 3000 rpm for 25 min to pellet the cells.

14. Remove M9 with glucose from cells and resuspend in M9 containing 0.4% glycerol and 2 g/L cassamino acids and 50 ug/mL ampicillin.

15. Collect 25 mL from both HigB –pBAD24 cultures.

16. Induce the toxin in one HigB-pBAD24 culture with 0.2% arabinose by adding 0.75 mL of a 20% arabinose stock.

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17. Add 0.75 mL of sterile water to the control culture for each strain and collect 25 mL aliquots of the strains with noninduced HigB. 18. Collect 25 mL aliquots at 2, 20, and 90 min after the induction of HigB. Note: At 90 min, the control sample should have an optical density of approximately 1.5 and the induced sample should have an optical density of approximately 0.75.

19. Collect cells by centrifugation at 3000 rpm for 30 min.

20. Use rotary evaporator to perform dehydration synthesis using a vacuum pump. This assures that no liquid remains.

21. Flash freeze pellets and store at -20 degrees Celsius.

22. Suspend pelleted cells in 6 mL of 2:2:1 methanol/water/acetonitrile and sonicate each sample for 10 min on ice at an amplitude of 21. This uses ultrasonic energy to mix certain components of the reaction and break apart other components for the analysis steps.

23. Denature proteins by heating them in a 60 degree Celsius water bath for 1 hour followed by cooling on ice.

24. Centrifuge tubes at 3000 rpm for 30 min to pellet the denatured proteins.

25. Rotavapp the supernatant to remove the methanol and acetonitrile and subsequently lyophilize to remove all remaining water.

Analysis Procedure 26. Load samples into liquid chromatography-mass spectrometry machine through injection.

27. Allow samples to cross transfer line.

28. Allow samples to pass through atmosphere pressure ionization unit.

29. In vacuum, allow completion of ion guide, quadrupole mass filter, and electronic detector.

30. View generated concentration graphs on LC-MS software.

31. Use standard curves and Beer’s Absorbance Law to determine normalized concentrations of 2’3’-cNMPs present in HigB induced E. coli cells.

32. Repeat whole procedure in order to get a total of approximately 4,000 concentration points.

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Summary Data Table Normalized Concentrations (nmol/g) 2'3'-cCMP higb preind higb preind 2

Average Standard Deviation higb +ara 2 min higb +ara 2 min 2

Average Standard Deviation higb +ara 20 min higb +ara 20 min 2

Average Standard Deviation higb -ara 2 min higb -ara 20 min

0

2'3'-cAMP 9.732692155 10.74399496 10.23834356

0

0.715099072

2.579960095

0

33.1055260

3.410130542

49.88885336

4.18546743

32.9106476 33.0080868

3.721677763 3.565904153

45.42806057 47.65845696

3.52687646 3.85617194

0.13779982

0.220297152

3.154256833

0.46569413

36.3849162

6.159698996

67.04299713

4.30108550

36.1724723 36.2786943

4.294088306 5.226893651

60.00129611 63.52214662

4.09051500 4.19580025

0.15022045

1.31918597

4.979234544

0.14889583

16.2458792

0.49385618

9.29995057

1.23395459

24.0496509

-1.54793764

6.218770916

2.04522130

0 0

2'3'-cGMP

2'3'-cUMP

8.125466877

0

4.47685232

0

6.301159599

0

Table 1. Created by student researcher.

Conclusion The data gathered in this experiment clearly shows that 2’3’cNMPs play key roles in biofilm formation and bacterial pathogenesis of HigB, a toxin present in Proteus vulgaris, which was modeled by an induced toxin E. coli system. These molecules could potentially be targeted for the development of novel antibiotics because this study is a tool to identify proteins involved in degrading mRNA. Additionally, 43

this fundamental study of protein is groundbreaking because research groups have not studied and quantified 2’3’-cyclic nucleotide monomers in the past. The data clearly indicates that induction of HigB increases 2’3’-cNMP levels, so there is more to this toxin than we currently understand.

The methods used in this study can be used as a tool to identify other proteins involved in degrading mRNA. LC-MS has not been previously used to quantify cyclic nucleotides, and this analytical chemistry technique is much more precise and cost effective than the traditional ELISA techniques used in the past. The results acquired in this study show that 2’3’-cAMP is a viable target for the development of new antibiotic drugs within the HigB-HigA toxin-antitoxin system based on the levels of 2’3’-cNMPs found in the E. coli cells. Analysis showed that 2’3’-cAMP played the greatest role in the bacterial stringent response and in the degradation pathway, showing that the interaction of 2’3’-cAMP may play a role in HigB biofilm formation and bacterial pathogenesis.

There are several components of the experiment that could have been improved or corrected if the experiment could be redone.

One of the major problems was that bacteria did not grow under the ideal conditions, so its medium had to be changed. This could have affected the way that the bacteria responded to treatment. For a retrial of the experiment, samples can be collected from a greater variety of induced toxin E. coli systems in order to minimize any inaccuracy that may have occurred. A variation of the experiment could be performed involving a greater variability of cells for various diseases such as cancer, myocardial infarction, or cholera. Also, this experiment could be repeated using actual Proteus vulgaris cells instead of using a comparable E. coli model. These experimental modifications have the potential to widen the scope of effective treatments for a variety of diseases.

There are several practical applications for the research conducted involving the development of novel antibiotics that can target 2’3’-cNMPs, particularly 2’3’-cAMP. Since these proteins aid translation and transcription in gene replication, targeting these molecules can lead to stopping biofilm formation. By targeting precise molecules that are closely involved in mRNA cleavage and the reproduction of genes that promote the development of diseases, treatments and antibiotics can be more effective. Also, development of 44

the various antibiotics by targeting 2’3’-cNMPs for urinary tract infection, cancer, myocardial infarction, and cholera can lead to further research involving clinical trials for affected people. Later on, this research will be used in humans to identify additional and specific proteins, genes, and pathways involved in diseases. Attacking 2’3’cNMPs by creating novel antibiotics that bind to these protein receptors and perform inhibitory functions could be the next key innovation in medical research.

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Delicacy Ally Leon As I sit and contemplate The wonders of life, I inoculate What possible things could satiate A beauty such as thee.

Both my microscopes observe and faced Your whites and blacks so interlaced How fortunate was I to have a taste Of sweetness that is thee.

I take in each curve and each smooth angle My focus is yours; yet my attention is mangled How lovely it’d be to be entangled, To have you next to me.

My friends are jealous, my dearest Jerry Says you’re just old and ordinary But you’re so soft and light and airy How could he not have seen?

Every feel and palpable touch Each numbing inch, each sugar rush No indulgence is ever too much When it comes to a thing such as we.

After hours of romantic dreams I wake up from my amorous schemes After all, what would a scoop of ice cream Want with a guy like me?

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The Allure of Distance Neena Anthony They instill in us the history Of the glorious nation A massive machine of millions, Functioning like clockwork Do they teach us of the other battles?

The unspoken ones, Disclosing a bleak future?

The child who drowns his pillow In the salty, unrelenting flood Witnessed only by the moon Painted in writhing scars The girl shunned by peers Posed on the edge of a chair Greeted only with the thick, Single loop, beckoning her A husband locked in anguish Watching as his loved one Flirts with ever-persistent Death Abandoned by healthcare But of course they don’t Of course they won’t Because everything looks worse Under a microscope

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The Masks We Wear Kunle Araba-Owoyele Under the microscope, I can clearly see That nobody is ever who they seem to be.

We are all wearing masks so we can hide The scars and pain that we feel inside.

The one that grins bears the saddest soul.

Seemingly happy, yet empty to the core.

The one that seems to have it all, They’ve borrowed all they’ve got, Their banks will soon make phone calls.

The one that is good at everything they do, They lie, they cheat, they’re not as good as you.

The one that seemingly has many friends Is so, so alone, and can’t wait until their end.

The one that you go to and pay for advice, Checks google.com, gets free answers, no price.

The one who is afraid of absolutely nothing Is full of insecurities, and excellent at bluffing.

A whole world of people pretending to be Something they aren’t, hiding true identities.

And I beg you to ask yourself, “Am I wearing a mask?”

You don’t need to live this way Leave it all in the past.

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“A Mask is only worn…”

Sonrisa A mask is only worn To hide, to protect.

A mask is worn In society. In labs.

Respect. Reproach.

Success. Shame.

Dignity. Defeat.

Lots of lives live under pressure.

We are bacteria under a microscope.

Inspected by.

Expected to.

Bacteria. People.

We can’t survive without them.

But we can’t always deal with them.

We’re disease. Medicine.

Good to bad to good to bad.

It’s not a fact.

Not white and black.

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Lessons Myra Khushbakht Remember, sweet child, When you look up and Stare at the sky and cruise through the clouds, That when you see a thick lining, Dark, dim, and gloomy, To be wary.

Remember, sweet child: Blue boots, raincoat, hat.

Never be prepared without all of that.

Remember, sweet child, When you look under a leaf, And you peer and you see At your poor, little plant of a pea.

Remember, sweet child, To let the ruby, red lady pass And grimace at the green backs To save a life from the knife.

Remember, sweet child, When all you want to do is cry Because you feel hopeless and lonely, Do not lash out through red eyes.

Remember, sweet child, To grasp the lens to see in the deep Of your enemy, your friend, your lover.

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Untie The Knots Vivian Lhyes Look into the microscope and see the diversity of life. Notice how every little mechanism – no matter how big or small – will work together in perfect harmony.

If only we can work that way. Where all we need to do is look closer and live together in peace. And diversity is accepted. We lie out loud and turn a blind eye to the clashing mechanisms within our society.

We silently tell ourselves that everything will come to peace. That this won’t last forever.

If only we had a way to look within ourselves and untie the knots that cause everything to fall out of order.

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Sparks Micaiah Cowart The lab table itself was nearly impossible to see, its surface hidden under scattered piles of papers, books, and assorted microscope lenses. Its surrounding tables were hardly better, with scattered piles of discarded petri dishes and suspicious-looking chemical containers adding to the disorder. The floor was dusty in one place and stained in the next; the walls were old and grimy; the very air itself reeked of various chemical odors and musty smells. Yet the middle-aged man standing in the center of this maelstrom of disorder, with white jacket, dark hair, and keen brown eyes, appeared unperturbed, his attention focused quite intently on the flashing computer monitor before him. Occasionally he would take a few slow steps and turn his eyes towards a small black box attached to the monitor by a series of thin cables. After staring blankly at the box for a few minutes, the man would walk slowly over to its adjacent table, upon which stood a microscope of intimidating stature. Glancing into its depths, the man would write a few notes down upon the nearest sheet of paper in indecipherable cursive, and then return to the monitor, which was now recording rapidly changing numbers at an impressive rate. This process continued for quite some time, with the man’s attention routinely shifting from one object of interest to the next, until a single click from the monitor signaled the end of its number compilation. With surprising swiftness, the man approached the monitor, brushed away a few papers to reveal a dull, black keyboard, and began typing with considerable speed. As the typing went on, the man would occasionally pause to return to his microscope, which he would study for some time before frowning and returning to the monitor.

To: Bryan (bryan.0893@. . .)

Subject: That NASA project Well, isn’t this just wonderful? Eighteen entire months of work just to get approval to run this experiment, and the results make absolutely no sense. Admittedly, the bacteria is extraterrestrial, but that doesn’t mean it can ignore physics. Energy conservation works on remote asteroids just as it does on Earth; molecules can’t just be 57

formed out of nowhere. The biological processes of these things mirror terrestrial photosynthesis almost exactly, yet the byproducts are several thousand times more complex. My equipment is sterile (despite the opinions of my colleagues regarding my lab conditions), and my procedure flawless, so these can’t be artificially biased results.

Regardless of their cause, these results aren’t what NASA is looking to see. Meet me tomorrow at that café (same as last time) and I’ll explain more.

For what it’s worth, I’ll send the data also (though I doubt you’ll be able to make any more sense of it than I can).

A tall, Jamaican-looking man came through the doorway, his twinkling eyes scanning the crowded café. When he spotted what he was looking for, he grinned and made his way swiftly over.

“Andrew, my man! Long time no see, eh?” he said in loud, heavily accented English that drew the casual attention of more than a few nearby diners. The subject of his expression gave a barely audible sigh and forced a smile.

“Good to see you too, Bryan.”

The tall man cheerfully sat down across from his companion and cracked a wiry smile.

“How’s your work been going? I hear you got a classified research project off of NASA! Still using that old junk lab of yours?”

The other man’s smile faded ever so slightly.

“It’s far from a “junk lab”, Bryan. I’ve done more work within the confines of that little cubicle than you’ve done in your entire career. But, my lab aside, I wanted to discuss—“ “More work, huh? You countin’ asthma attacks as work?” The man roared with laughter. “You can’t hardly see the floor in that thing, it’s got so much dust!”

His companion was unamused. “Did you receive my email?” “’Course I did. I don’t half know what you expect me to do with all that data, though. You think I’m some sorta astro-biological prodigy? Why, when I went to college, we didn’t even—“ “Knock it off, Bryan. We both know why you’re here. The results are inconclusive, and NASA will kill me if I knock fifteen 58

million off their budget for inconclusive results. I need someone to get me a meeting with Mr. Arnold. He’ll listen to me and maybe I can talk him into helping me.”

“Those results didn’t look half-inconclusive to me.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and shoved the wrinkled mess across the table. “You see those things right there? The ‘random’ molecules you were whining about? Those sure look a whole lot like neurons to me.”

“What are you trying to suggest, Bryan? You think bacteria from the middle of an asteroid can spawn neurons half as big as themselves?”

“Well, heck, I don’t know. You leak a few brain cells onto your samples or something?” The man roared with laughter again, drawing annoyed glances from a few surrounding patrons.

“Bryan, please. I need Arnold’s advice on what to do here. He’s the only one who knows—“ “You want advice? Go take another look at your data there.

You got something there, and I doubt that something is gonna get fixed by fancy NASA politicians with forged doctorates in lord-knowswhat.”

“Bryan, I told you, I’ve already run significant tests on the data.

The results are simply impossible. A single bacterium of that size cannot create—“ “Well it happened, didn’t it?” The man’s grin faded for the first time and a more serious expression took its place. “That data there shows that something happened in that little box of yours—something real interesting. You wanna hand all that over to NASA and its bureaucratic idiocy? Try giving your experiment another look. See if you can’t make a little more sense of it the second time around.” The man rose from his seat and looked down at his companion. “You still can’t sort it out after that, and I’ll get you what you want from NASA. Alright?”

The other man sighed. “Alright.”

The musty, old lab looks precisely the same: chaotic, disordered, and yet still, somehow, productive. The large microscope remains at its place; the man at the center types in the same analytical codes; the monitor flashes with the same patterns. Yet one 59

piece is out of place: the black box. This time, it is open, with a clear film providing a thin barrier between its mysterious contents and the outside world. Though light within the lab is dim, the contents of the box appear to be a grayish liquid of questionable viscosity, which occasionally sloshes about ever so slightly. Visible within the depths of the box are an array of colorful sensors and probes, their intermittent flashing providing short bursts of light to the box’s otherwise dark contents. Aside from this anomaly, however, the general procedure of the lab continues much as it did last time, with the man at the monitor steadfastly inputting his commands just as was done previously.

It appears as though the world may be undoing itself, for Bryan might just have been right about something (for once). Having increased the number of probes within the bacterium solution and set their values to return at double speed, the trends I’m seeing are astonishing. The bacterium are indeed carrying out photosynthesis, but it’s not like any photosynthesis I’ve seen on Earth. The reaction is incredibly complex, and the byproducts even more so. Most importantly, however, the byproducts are exactly those needed to form simple structures similar to human neurons. But why? What evolutionary reason could asteroid-living bacteria have for developing neuron-like structures without a centralized brain? It’s not like they can actually communicate. . .

Wait a minute. . .

The man abruptly stops his work at the monitor and rises from his seat. He approaches the black box and stares at it intently for quite some time before quickly striding over to an adjacent table. Sifting through papers, he finds what he is apparently looking for; a small, blue probe similar to those inside the box. After fiddling with it for a few seconds, he releases the cap on the bottom, walks swiftly over to the black box, and hesitates for a moment. Caution is abandoned in favor of curiosity; the man removes the film on the top of the box and inserts the top of the probe into the solution. The other end is quickly attached to a wire that leads off the table, under some scattered papers, and ends inside an outlet on the other side of the room. The probe lets loose a couple of short electrical sparks.

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A primitive brain. Utilizing neuron structures from each individual microbe, electrical signals can be passed from one end to the next extremely effectively. This means that the bacteria can, essentially, “think.” But what does it think about? Is it complex enough to comprehend self-defense?

Whatever it is, this organism is unprecedented. At this point, I’ll have to notify someone else before proceeding further; this is definitely not what NASA was expecting me to discover. I’ll secure this data and present to them as soon as I can get ahold of Bryan.

The man types a few last-minute commands and prepares to leave the lab. He approaches the black box and attempts to remove the previously-inserted probe.

No sooner has the man touched his hand to the probe then the box releases a massive burst of white-hot electricity. The man cries out and staggers back, clutching a smoldering hand.

It’s more advanced than I realized. The organism is defending itself using its own neuron signals. This has the potential to become extremely dangerous; the creature is plugged into an outlet, giving it a nearly unlimited source of electricity.

Still clutching his hand, the man stumbles towards the outlet and examines it. He reaches out a hand to unplug it but quickly withdraws it upon noticing something else.

The cord is electrified, almost to the point of melting its own insulation. Whatever is in that box is channeling all this electricity to energize anything it’s connected too, which includes nearly every electronic device in this room.

The man begins to make his way slowly across the room to the other side. As he walks, the monitor gives off a loud pop and begins smoking. The cords running from the box to the monitor are vibrating with visible electric energy, which dances up and down their lengths 61

in the form of crackling blue and white sparks. The man eyes these phenomena nervously as he moves slowly across the length of the room.

He is halfway to the door when he notices smoke rising from a corner of the room.

The culprit is a sheet of unattended paper resting a bit too close to the black box and its electrified wires. Almost immediately the sheet is incinerated, the electric energy igniting it like a torch.

Sparks fly off of the blackened paper, igniting nearby sheets and quickly forging an inferno of blazing papers. Desperate, the man sprints to the door, narrowly avoiding flying sparks and surges of electricity that by now have spread to almost every metallic surface in the room. At arm’s length from the door, the man reaches for the doorknob.

It never once occurred to the builders of this old complex that installing copper-coated doorknobs was a bit odd.

It never occurred to this man either.

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“Don’t Tell Me” Vaishu Merugu Tell me one more time that my actions are incompetent or that my thoughts are incoherent.

Tell me one more time that my voice isn’t as mellifluous or that my hair isn’t as luscious and long as you would like.

I am aware that you would modify me if you couldalter me as if I were a doll and program me as if I were a robot.

Looking through a distorted hand mirror, I list my flaws and slowly fall to the cold, dense hardwood.

Maybe I could succumb to the parasite of normality and maybe, just maybe, this would alter others’ conceptions of me.

Maybe.

In the midst of piercing silence, there is a CLASH! The mirror accelerates towards the ground and while stumbling on shards of broken glass, I exclaim, “NO! I WILL NOT.” It’s about time that I live my life without your pernicious judgment.

I won’t pay any heed to your irrelevance.

I have realized that while your acerbic remarks may sting, they do not depreciate my quirks nor my verity.

They do not depreciate me.

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Society In Conflict With The Individual Jacob Ward Weaving through the moving masses As their self-doubt amasses.

People wear the masks of guilt.

Their inner passions dry and wilt.

They wear the masks as a token, Remind them of words they’ve spoken.

Hiding from their past, haunted by transgression, All that remains for them is unspoken confession.

Society makes them feel the pain, Self-criticism makes them never gain.

Knowledge, prestige, and success haunt them, So much so that indeed they lose the gem Of the ability to enjoy the moment, Grasp the sun and breathe enjoyment.

This diabolical agent had the divine permission, To plot against the soul and illicit an attrition.

Self-doubt, drives them to the brink It etches pain on hearts written in ink.

They place themselves under the microscope They search for ways to measure up.

Society refracts light, puts them in a kaleidoscope, They never know what’s down or up.

They constantly search for how to please another, But in the process they always suffer.

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눈치 무명

보고잇자나

사람들은 항상 watching everything

뭐를하던

뭐를하던 must be

조심해야되지, 난

careful, 난

얼굴, 몸매, 옷차림

face, 몸매, style 등

등

말투, actions,

말투, 행동,

성격이든, Wherever I go

사람들은 항상

성격이든, 어딜가던 사람들의 시선을 피하지. 이상하게 나만 눈치를 보는건지? 사람들의 웃음소리, 나를 지나치는 그림자들이, 그 의미없는 것들은 다 나를 향한 무기, 나에게 남은 작은 감정들을 찌르고 죽이기. 숨막히는 시선이 나를 둘러 깁숙히 숨긴 아픔을 다시 불러.

사람들의 시선을. 피하지 Weirdly 나만 눈치를 보는건지? 사람들의 sound of laughter, 나를 지나치는 shadows, 그 작으것들은 다 weapons pointed at me, 나애게 남은 작은 emotions들을 찌르고 죽이기. 숨막히는 attention이 나를 둘러 Deeply hidden 아픔을 다시 불러.

People are always watching.

Whatever I do, I must be careful.

Face, body, style, and more Speech, actions, or attitude, Wherever I go, I avoid people’s attention.

Strange. Am I the only one who notices it?

The sound of people’s laughter, The passing shadows, All those small things are weapons pointed at me, To pierce and kill the little emotions left inside.

The suffocating attention surrounds me, Bringing back the pain hidden deep inside.

However, looking around again, it becomes clear, 67

하지만 다시한번 둘러보면

However, 다시한번

선명해지는건,

둘러보면 it becomes clear,

나를 삿삿히 뒤저보는 사람은 없는것. 그 순간 외로움이

나를 삿삿히 뒤저보는 사람은 - there is none. 그 순간 loneliness이

나를 찾아와,

나를 찾아와

없는 시선도 나를 괴롭힌다.

없는 시선도 bothers me.

그때서야

그때서야 I realize,

난는알개되지,

나의게

나의게

눈치를주는건 only me.

눈치를주는건 홀로 나 뿐이지.

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There is none who thoroughly examines me from within.

And at that moment, loneliness comes and finds me.

The nonexistent attention also tortures me.

That’s when I realize, The one who makes me self-conscious is only me.

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Universally Unique Andrei Spatariu In a universe far, far, away Yet not that far away In a nebula far, far, away Where the stars form and roam With colors as red as lava to as white as the Moon In a galaxy that is spiraling away with its milky-like look In a solar system with planets as big as the Sun or smaller than some moons In a planet full of chaos Where water rains down, lava spills out, and creatures survive In a country full of people Of all different origins, faces, and cultures In a state that is known mainly for its peaches Peanuts and used-to-be plantations In a city that is older than most of its residents Yet, some still remember its beginnings In a school full of students Competing to be the best and make progress towards a better future Lies You Making up a small yet vital part of the DNA that makes this universe Universally unique

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Between Moments James Michael Siochi

Miss Atomic Bomb You’ve heard about it on the radio. You’ve read it in the newspapers.

You’ve seen it on TV. Now, you too can own one of your very own Noys, for the low, low price of 49.99. This new system from the scientists at Memne Corp. is the latest in memory retrieval. Keep track of all your favorite memories! How you met your best friend fading?

Need to remember your anniversary? Refresh it using the new Noys.

If you call this number (1-800-569-6673) in the next two minutes, you can get the memory dump service for free! Had a bad day?

Significant other dumped you? For just another 19.99, you won’t have to remember!

The new Noys. Your past, now.

- Advertisement from Memne Corp., produced for their Summer 2020 line And that was how the world ended. Not in blood or fire, but in the day to day. The mundane. Because people didn’t use it just for the big bad days. They used it for the little ones. All the little moments in between. All the drudgery and misery of the daily existence, gone in a moment. Like fog on a windowpane. Their lives distilled to flash, and no substance. Personal import, but no impact. A life lived in the moments, in never ending glory days and Carpe Diem 25/7.

And, quite possibly, I was the worst of them all.

Into the Hippocampus Three score and fifteen years ago, I was one of the faceless morass.

Another drone, working its way through life until one momentous occasion or another would elevate it to personhood. Would let it fleetingly taste the cup of life. Then, the blank gaze would settle over again, memories being deleted as soon as they appeared. Half the time I could hardly even recall my name.

What I’ll always remember is the day I woke up. My memory had been coming in fits and starts, occasional half-remembrances and broken pieces of my day. Then, I lamented what I was becoming. Then, I was a foolish child, focused on my actions like all the rest, continually achieving, never living. Till suddenly, in a flash, I recalled what I had 72

done. Locked away the genius behind a façade of naiveté, pretending to be a pretender, the greatest mask of all.

And what was the trigger? What caused the momentous epiphany? I’ll always remember, for I was named after it. Halley. The comet had come again, yet I had been born under its watchful gaze. How so? How now this mystery? For I arrive every seventy-five years. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but how have I seen myself twice, yet look no older than half that? And thus I opened a box I did not know had been locked. But there was no hope at the bottom.

Read Only Memory How could there have been? I knew now the truth of our existence. I knew now why we never questioned. How could we? We could hardly even conceive of anything outside of our existence, for only our transient lives could impress a memory we might keep. And so I spent a feverish month, some of it awake, some of it asleep, always searching for a way to break the shackles.

Sometimes, I worked from within. Infiltrating institutions. Religious buildings. Schools, as teacher and as student. Sometimes I disguised myself and robbed places, government buildings especially. All done with skills I never even knew I had. Memories painstakingly assembled without me even knowing I was doing it.

But all for naught. A thousand different tries, a thousand different attempts, but always the same result. No one could remember. It was the perfect defense. How could one break free, if they did not know they were shackled?

And there lay the ultimate clue! What was the one thing everyone paid attention to, but never remembered? If we all forgot how we wiped our memories, everyone must have the same hole. Everyone must all forget the same thing.

Io And that has led me here, to the Olympus Radio Aerial. It’s tied for the title of largest aerial in the world, and pair to the Tartarus Aerial.

Between them, they broadcast every station to the whole world. Can you guess what everyone had, but no one listened to? So inside I go, for the best chance at finding answers to my questions lies within.

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And yet, the hallways seem familiar. Bits and pieces, floating in and out of my head. I’ve been here before. But how could that be? I slaved to find even hints of this place. How could I have been here before?

The deeper I go, the worse the pounding sounds. A thousand drums, beating in my head. Louder and louder and louder, until I feel as if I must go mad from the noise. I stand at the doorway to the control room. Here lies all my answers. Here lies all my pain. And as the notes reach a crescendo, I reach for the handle.

Between I enter the control room, the pain stops, and I realize the awful truth.

I have been here before.

Again and again and again. The same seventy-five years, lived over and over and over. But that wasn’t the worst of it all.

I remember the first time Halley came here, tall, brunette, and wideeyed. Then I came again, red haired with strong ideas and stronger ideals. Then middling and blonde. Different people, different times, but always seventy-five years. I peered into the mirror. Who was I this time? Dark haired, brown-eyed, another person caught.

Ah, and here you are. The two wires.

I cut the red wire, and I free the world. The broadcasts stop. People stop forgetting to remember. I remember, with all the pain that entails.

I cut the blue wire, wipe my own memories, and send Halley back into the world. I get to go back to my life, and someone else can play Halley. Someone else can make this choice.

But here, now, it is my choice. My Scylla and Charibdys. My catch-22.

So, red or blue?

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-phobia Sharon Kim Fear of gatherings It’s Sociophobia Surely, I’m alone Spectrophobia The mirror reflects horror I am scared of me I am scared to eat My perfection I must keep Sitophobia Fear imperfection I am Atelophobic I’m not good enough Rhabdophobia Hide from society’s eyes Harshly criticized Optophobia Please let me keep my eyes closed This world is grotesque

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A Journal from the Intensive Care Unit Sanchez 04/11/2008 It is the ugliest thing to say, but my heart stopped when I saw her for the first time, and, yes, I know that’s horribly cliché, but I wouldn’t be writing about it if that encounter didn’t leave me in Emory’s Intensive Care Unit. Because, yes, this is a journal that, yes, I write in for me, but that doesn’t give me the right to crappy writing and a ticket to a world where cliché is literarily acceptable. So, no, I will not write a cliché, and so if you think that I just did you are wrong, and you therefore have a little more in common with my doctors than you might have previously thought.

It turns out that when you walk into the emergency room of one of the busiest hospitals of metro-Atlanta and proclaim that your heart hurts because you turned around and saw a girl a little too good for you, frankly you will not be taken seriously. You will be ridiculed while you literally sit there and die and your heart muscle is deprived of oxygen and withers as laughter echoes in your ears and you realize that your death will be painful and take place on the hospital floor while you cry.

But finally they will take notice and bring you out of the lobby and into an actual room. Whether or not they plan to actually help you or perform a psych evaluation is beyond me, but when you need medical attention you do what it takes. And the kind people at the hospital hook you up to an EKG and take your blood and, God help you, ask if you have a family history of psychiatric problems. And you kindly say no, but the resounding look on Dr. Malhotra’s face lets you know that, no, you did not say that very kindly.

However, they will soon realize that, yes, there is an actual problem, not just one in your head, and they will tell you that you have had a myocardial infarct and you will ask for an English translation and you will not be happy. You have suffered a heart attack and you will ask why, because last time you checked hot girls don’t have voodoo powers. And, of course, you will hear that they don’t know and that they will have to do more tests and that they can solve it. But you will feel like you cried on the hospital floor and they still don’t believe you because they don’t really know what’s going on.

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Sure, there’s something wrong, but if there’s not an answer they can still pin this on a side effect of insanity.

The next part will be a blur. You maybe underwent surgery and maybe you did not and maybe you’ve just been sleeping in a hospital bed but maybe you have not. You will not know what happened by your own memory, but rather they, the people who thought you were actually insane, will have to spoon feed you information like you were two again. Like you were an insane two year child who cannot think for himself or feel for himself or act for himself. And you will feel angry.

There is, though, reassurance and some peace in knowing that you were right. They will finally tell you after it is all said and done that there was a forming blood clot in your coronary arteries and when you turned your body to look at that girl for the first time that clot was dislodged. And you will know that the clot traveled downstream until it got to a vessel too small for it to keep going and it got stuck, cutting off any blood supply to a part of your heart, leaving it oxygen deprived and ready to die. And it did die. And it hurt.

And I knew it while they did not.

But you will find that girl and you will tell her that your heart stopped when you saw her and she will laugh and tell you to come up with something just a little more original. And then you will pull down the collar of your shirt showing her the scar that runs lateral to your sternum as a result of your coronary artery bypass graft surgery and she will believe you for a second before saying you tried too hard for just her, and she will leave. And then you will feel a pain in your heart that those freaking doctors will not be able to fix and you might just go home and cry on your floor but nobody can come to the aid of those driven to insanity by the desolate hope of love that never will be.

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Humans Ian Graham People are strange.

On the outside, they make no sense.

They cry when happy; they cry when sad.

They put off the important; they focus on the trivial.

They just don’t make sense.

But on the inside, people make more sense.

Chemicals react, cells divide, Life is formed.

But how?

How can forms of matter learn of matter?

How can tiny nerve cells hold information about tiny nerve cells?

How can chemicals form conscious thought?

How can clumps of matter think, learn, judge, feel emotions?

How can I laugh, smile, cry, listen, perceive, know, decide, discover, understand?

Am I not just matter?

People are miracles.

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Dissecandi de Corpus II Nathaly Mandujano Under the light, emotions unfold And the head comforts with acceptance For I’ve always opiated this head of mine With forgiveness of sins enclosed in the shrine For I’ve always encountered an initial madness With the power to dazzle and dizzy me with sadness And the head learned to accept the human’s mistakes Under the light, emotions unfold And the mouth comforts with sincerity For I’ve always been quick to speak goodbyes With a mouth full of white lies For I’ve always held him captive in a kiss With the awareness of true meaning’s bliss And the mouth learned to accept its blinded desires Under the light, emotions unfold And the heart comforts with ecstasy For I’ve always laced vile romances With the devoiding of color in love’s trances For I’ve always opened the ruptured sack With illuminating flaws stitched in the cracks And the heart learned to be joyful by loving thy self Under the light, emotions unfold And the hand comforts with charisma For I’ve always clutched the wanderlust in your tone With holding on to love’s desensitizing throne For I’ve always outweighed the worse With holding your hand through life’s course And the hand learned to be charismatic by sharing

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Under the light, emotions unfold And the leg comforts with hope For I’ve always tripped over your sentences With vigorously lacing the same shoes with repentances For I’ve always echoed your name down the highway With the search of headlights or light’s day And the leg learned to hope for a dream converted into an empire Under the light, emotions unfold And secrets are told Bodies are dissected.

Hearts are gold

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Credits Advisor Mr. Gabe Andrews Editor in Chief Stellah Indiya Staff Ekaterina Domashchenko Alexandra Cabrera Kathleen Park Bryan Gomez Sharon Kim