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As expected, after six or seven days, the poor rooster in the cage was on the verge of death.
Although it had been steadily provided with grains and fresh water, the wound on its leg had clearly begun to fester and become inflamed, and there was a faint pus discharge.
Seeing how concerned she was about the rooster, Da Vinci had once suggested amputating the affected area to see if it would heal.
When the inflammation worsened from mild to severe, Hedy diluted the penicillin she had previously extracted and performed a simple skin test on the other side of the rooster's body.
There were no issues; it wouldn’t be fatal.
Then, she injected a tube of the solution into the wound and began the subsequent treatment.
The amount she had previously extracted was far from enough for long-term treatment of an adult, but it was more than sufficient for an animal.
By the fifth day of injections, the wound had healed to the point of scabbing, and the rooster seemed to have regained its vigor. It even crowed at around three in the morning.
Da Vinci helped her hold the chicken down and showed her his daily sketches of the wound, which were incredibly detailed.
"What did you inject into it?" he asked, studying the tube of liquid. "Is this the stuff you got from the moldy spot on the orange?"
Botticelli appeared again, holding a book.
"Hedy—I've borrowed that book, The House of Fame by Chaucer, but it's in all English. Should we hire someone to translate it?"
Da Vinci, holding the struggling rooster down with both hands, looked up at him and said, "Mr. Alessandro Filippo, can't you see she’s busy?"
Hedy suddenly looked up. "Yes—I've been looking for that book! English is fine, I can understand it!"
Da Vinci gave her a strange look. "You can speak English?"
She gestured for Botticelli to wait, then untied the bandage and returned the rooster to its cage to rest. Standing nearby, shewashed her hands with water and said, "Learning English is the beginning of understanding more knowledge—you should try it too."
Botticelli, smiling brightly, waved the book in his hand, signaling for her to come with him to discuss something else.
Da Vinci tried to stop her. "Wait, you still haven’t explained that tube of liquid."
"I’ve already submitted the paper, and if all goes well, it will be published in the Florence Gazette," Hedy waved her hand. "I’ll come by tomorrow at the usual time."
Da Vinci watched them walk away, one after the other. He had wanted to say something to keep her, but couldn’t think of another reason to do so.
Well then… see you tomorrow.
The idea for the Florence Gazette had come about before the war broke out.
At the time, Hedy knew she would be going to Milan for a while, so she wrote up a progress report on the penicillin research, along with specific recommendations for him to consider.
It must be said that having a newspaper was absolutely necessary.
As early as ancient Rome, Europe had a similar system. People in the Roman Senate had a wooden board set up, which was regularly updated with various decisions and announcements, known as Acta Diurna (Daily Acts).
As the Roman Empire expanded, Acta Diurna gradually turned into written records on cloth, which were then delivered to the provincial capitals by special messengers.
Hedy had suggested establishing a movable type printing press and had even written a complete set of procedures for publishing it.
The time didn’t need to be rushed; a week would suffice.
Typesetting and editing the movable type itself took time. More importantly, the existence of newspapers should not just be to deliver information but to guide public opinion.
Before leaving, she stood in front of Lorenzo, speaking briefly but powerfully.
