NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 5
Chapter 5: The Imperial Princess Fires Her Doctor (5)
***
In the Middle Ages and early modern period, most doctors were also scientists. Some even doubled as philosophers, theologians, or alchemists.
Even Pasteur, who developed vaccines and disproved spontaneous generation, originally started as a chemist.
This trend carried on into modern times to some extent. A competent doctor regularly writes papers and participates in research—it’s practically the norm.
I’m telling this long story for one reason:
I need to figure out how to distill the vodka Istina bought to medical disinfectant levels… without starting a fire in the lab.
Looks like it won’t be easy.
“So you weren’t lying when you said you didn’t buy this vodka to drink it?”
“Do I look like a drunkard to you?”
The graduate student shook their head.
“Professor, maybe you do enjoy a drink now and then. But that’s none of my business.”
True enough.
Istina brought two bottles of vodka—more than I expected. Roughly calculating, we could make one bottle of ethanol and one and a half bottles of disinfectant from this.
Istina frowned.
“So… what exactly are you planning to do with this?”
“Boil the vodka.”
“To drink it?”
“No, for experiments!”
Why does she keep assuming I want to drink?
“Ethanol boils before water. If we maintain the first container’s temperature between 75-95 degrees Celsius, we can extract pure ethanol vapor. Then, by passing it through a cold tube, we’ll get liquid ethanol.”
We don’t necessarily need vodka, but boiling wine would give our disinfectant a grape aroma—not ideal. Plus, cost-wise, this is better.
We have everything needed for distillation here in the lab: flasks, burners, etc. Though whether it’s cost-effective remains to be seen.
“I think I understand.”
“Good.”
“What’s our target concentration?”
“A solution with over 75% ethanol content.”
Istina tied her hair back and jotted something in a small notebook.
“What’s ethanol again? Never mind, I’ll take your word for it. Let me organize what we need right now.”
Nice. She’s sharp.
Vodka contains around 40-50% alcohol, which works decently, but standard disinfectants have about 75%. Distilling should yield good results.
“Alright. So we need fire, a thermometer, a flask, a cooling tube, and a container for the ethanol, right?”
I nodded.
“Most of that should be in the professor’s lab. I’ll check the Alchemy Department’s lab for larger equipment.”
***
Turns out the Alchemy Department had a dedicated distillation machine. All that searching for flasks was wasted time.
“What’s the final goal here? Does drinking pure alcohol cure any diseases?”
Diseases cured by drinking? None come to mind. Plenty caused by it, though.
“No. We’ll use the ethanol for disinfecting hands and equipment. It might even work for cleaning infected wounds in some cases.”
“Ah.”
Borrowing the distiller.
***
The distiller worked perfectly.
“There’s a semi-famous saying about World War II, true or not. Soviet soldiers used vodka for morale, wound disinfection, fuel replacement, cleaning, antifreeze, and even pain relief.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
Istina scratched her head.
“Sounds funny, but there’s some truth to it. Ethanol over 75% purity can catch fire, disinfect wounds, and make you drunk if you drink it.”
Students are supposed to listen when professors talk. Whether they understand is secondary.
“Not sure I fully get it, but ethanol seems pretty useful, huh?”
Glad she understood. Even if she didn’t, her willingness to listen is commendable. I nodded.
Istina held up the bottle of distilled ethanol.
Come to think of it… is this really ethanol? It might just be a slightly stronger version of the original vodka.
“But Professor, this looks exactly like water. Just smells strongly of alcohol.”
There’s a way to check.
We don’t have equipment to measure the exact ethanol concentration, but we don’t need super-precise tools either.
To indirectly evaluate the ethanol content, we can simply measure the volume and weight of the result. Ethanol has a lower density than water.
To simplify: ethanol’s density is roughly 0.8, while water’s is about 1. The closer our solution’s density is to 0.8, the better we did.
“What’s the density of the result?”
“Okay, let me weigh it.”
Density equals weight divided by volume.
Istina pondered with the scale in hand.
The volume is marked on the flask, and the weight can be measured once we subtract the flask’s weight—but how much does the flask weigh?
A moment later, Istina spoke.
“Um… the result’s density seems slightly less than 1 kilogram per liter. My volume calculations are a bit fuzzy, though.”
“Let’s see.”
I double-checked the calculation.
The result’s density came out to 0.85.
We can’t calculate ethanol purity based solely on density here, but it’s clearly a high-concentration ethanol solution.
Water’s density is around 1, and pure ethanol’s is roughly 0.8. This should exceed the 75% threshold needed for disinfection. If we had glycerol substitutes, we could even make hand sanitizer.
We’ll think about that later. I don’t remember what glycerol is or how to make it anyway, and it’s not essential.
“Well, this is good enough.”
Istina nodded.
Making disinfectant is done.
“Istina, isn’t vodka basically high-purity alcohol diluted to drinkable levels?”
“Hmm, probably not?”
Did I just waste time? Istina shook her head, but I’ve never made vodka myself.
“Anyway… the important part isn’t making alcohol, but using whatever alcohol we create for disinfection.”
“That makes sense!”
Istina clearly wanted to move on. Next time, we’ll just buy concentrated vodka. One less hassle.
***
Now we need a microscope. Without proving bacteria exist, we can’t explain why disinfectants are necessary.
Or agar culture medium. We need at least one of these to properly prove bacterial existence. Ideally, both.
Still plenty of time before class starts… let’s brainstorm more.
“Istina, do you know what wakame is?”
“What’s that? Is it seaweed?”
Come to think of it, we might not need agar specifically. Anything starchy, like acorn jelly, could work.
Maybe corn flour.
“Istina, go get some soybean flour and corn flour later. We’ll need them to make bacterial culture media.”
“Will bacteria grow in that?”
Probably. Back when I worked at the university hospital, I used pre-made culture media and petri dishes many times, but rarely had to make my own.
I only made culture media during high school and undergrad. Soybeans are high in protein, so they might work as nutrients for the culture medium, but we’ll have to test it.
Unfortunately, no matter how we make the culture medium, it won’t be clinically usable. Different types of bacteria grow depending on the medium’s properties, and I can’t think of a way to differentiate them.
We’ll have to consider that later.
“Oh, right. Get some magnifying glasses tomorrow. We’ll need at least three.”
Istina tilted her head.
“Got it. Where do I find them?”
You tell me, not me.
***
How do you put an elephant in a fridge?
Ask a grad student.
The important part isn’t whether the grad student can put the elephant in the fridge. If a grad student can’t do it, no human can—it’s impossible.
Grad students aren’t slaves.
Slaves need food, sleep, and marriage arrangements. Grad students skip meals, don’t sleep, and marriage is out of the question…
Anyway.
Getting soybean flour, corn flour, and magnifying glasses turned out to be tasks humans can accomplish. Since we already have petri dishes and beakers in the lab, making culture media will be easy.
Making a microscope from magnifying glasses might be tricky. Let’s start with the easier parts.
“Professor, when are you seeing patients?”
What? No patients are lined up yet. My ward hasn’t even opened.
“You mean rounds? Anyway, we can visit the hospital before officially starting our duties, right? You need to prepare for ward work too.”
Thinking about it, that might be best.
“You make the culture media later. I’ll try working on the microscope.”
“Okay!” Istina nodded vigorously.
Time to get ready for the hospital.