NASA Discovers 2 New Planets.

Two planets slightly smaller than Saturn have been discovered orbiting a distant star, a first for NASA's Kepler space telescope, whose mission is to look for signs of planets passing in front of stars, the space agency said Thursday.

This is "the first discovery of multiple planets orbiting the same star" by looking for such transits, said William Borucki, the science principal investigator for the Kepler Mission. He spoke in a teleconference from the NASA Ames Research Center in California.

The sun-like star, designated Kepler-9, is about 2,000 light years away in the constellation Lyra, he said.

The two planets, named Kepler-9b and 9c, show a clear gravitational interaction, according to NASA. But while scientists hope Kepler will find Earth-like planets, these two do not qualify. In addition to being much larger than Earth, they are much too close to the star they are orbiting.

"The habitable zone is actually quite far out from these stars," Borucki said. These planets "are very, very hot."

Scientists also have identified what appears to be a third, smaller celestial body orbiting the star. It's about 1.5 times the size of Earth, but it has not yet been confirmed as a planet, according to mission scientists. It also is very close to the star, with an orbit of about 1.6 days, NASA said.

The Kepler space telescope launched from Cape Canaveral in March 2009 with the mission of staring at our region of the Milky Way galaxy to search for Earth-size planets that would be in a star's habitable zone.


It is looking at more than 100,000 stars, watching for tiny repeated dips or fluctuations in their brightness. That momentary dimming, scientists say, could indicate a planet has come between the star and the telescope.

Kepler, currently 18 million miles from Earth, will continue its mission for another three and a half years.

In June, NASA announced that the space observatory had identified more than 700 planet candidates in just its first 43 days of searching, including five that could have more than one transiting planet.

"This is like opening a treasure chest," said Matthew Holman of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

And scientists say more discoveries are on the way as Kepler and other missions peer into the depths of the Milky Way.

"We want to know, in particular, what [the planets'] atmospheres are like," Borucki said. "Kepler can't tell us that, but missions are on the planning board that may answer those questions, which will help man understand the universe and his place in it."

He added, "A couple of thousand years ago, people asked these questions, and in the Middle Ages, they asked these questions, and now, this is a very exciting period. In the next few years, we'll have the answers to these questions."

Vision gets better with the right mind-set

Imagine seeing better by thinking differently. That’s a vision with a future, according to Harvard University psychologist Ellen Langer.

Eyesight markedly improved when people were experimentally induced to believe that they could see especially well, Langer and her colleagues report in the April Psychological Science. Such expectations actually enhanced visual clarity, rather than simply making volunteers more alert or motivated to focus on objects, they assert.

Langer’s new findings build on long-standing evidence that visual perception depends not just on relaying information from the eyes to the brain but on experience-based assumptions about what can be seen in particular situations. Those expectations lead people to devote limited attention to familiar scenes and, as a result, to ignore unusual objects and events.

In perhaps the most eye-popping of Langer’s new findings, 20 men and women who saw a reversed eye chart — arranged so that letters became progressively larger further down the chart, with a giant “E” at the bottom — accurately reported more letters from the smallest two lines than they did when shown a traditional eye chart with the big letters on top. All volunteers had normal eyesight.

These results reflect people’s expectation, based on experience with standard eye charts, that letters are easy to see at the top and become increasingly difficult to distinguish on lower lines, the researchers suggest.

Participants who said they thought that they could improve their eyesight with practice displayed a bigger vision boost on the reversed chart than those who didn’t think improvement was possible, but only for the next-to-smallest line. Both groups did equally well at reading the smallest, topmost line.

Another set of experiments included 63 members of the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps at MIT. Eye testing determined that their vision ranged from below average to excellent.

An experimenter told a group of 22 cadets to assume the role of a fighter pilot while operating a flight simulator. During this exercise, participants tried to identify letters shown on four plane wings of approaching aircraft. Each wing contained one of the bottom four lines of an eye chart.

Another 20 cadets performed the visual task while pretending to fly a plane in a simulator that they were told was broken. Ten other cadets read a motivational essay before the exercise. A final group of 11 cadets didn’t use a simulator but practiced eye exercises that researchers described as capable of improving eyesight before taking an eye test.

Vision improved substantially for nine of 22 simulator pilots compared with none of those who pretended to fly, two of 11 eye exercisers and one person in the motivational group. Simulator pilots did so well relative to the others because they more thoroughly adopted a mind-set of being real fighter pilots with presumably superior vision, the researchers posit. An initial survey of ROTC members found that they attributed particularly good vision to fighter pilots.

Simulator pilots with below-average vision displayed the biggest jumps in visual performance, perhaps because they had more room for improvement, the researchers suggest.

These results suggest that if eye exercise programs designed to improve vision work for some people, it’s not because of any physical effect on the eyes or brain. Such regimens “may be effective because they prime the belief that exercise improves vision,” Langer and her colleagues write.

Mind-set may boost visual performance without sharpening vision itself, comments psychologist Daniel Simons of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Experimental manipulations in the new study, such as reversing the arrangement of an eye chart, may have made volunteers more willing to guess when they felt a bit unsure, Simons says. Such guesses stand a good chance of being right, in his view.

A new study has come up empty-handed after pursuing a genetic explanation for why one identical twin developed multiple sclerosis while the other stayed healthy.

Researchers transcribed the complete genetic blueprints for a pair of identical twins, looking for differences that might explain why one has multiple sclerosis and the other does not. No trace of what caused the discrepancy appeared in the twins’ DNA. And scientists found no smoking gun when they compared levels of gene activity between the sick and well twin. The results appear in a report published April 29 in Nature.

“We looked under a lot of rocks and we found no differences that we could replicate,” says Stephen Kingsmore, a geneticist at the National Center for Genome Resources in Santa Fe, N.M., and leader of the new study. The finding “points to some novel environmental trigger that must be very important to the disease. We don’t know what it is.”

But the new study is small; it examines only three pairs of twins and one type of immune cell known to be involved in multiple sclerosis. A telling difference between sickness and health might be found in other types of cells, such as immune cells called B cells or in oligodendrocytes, which are cells that make the nerve cell insulation called myelin, says Esteban Ballestar of the Bellvitge Biomedical Research Institute in Barcelona, Spain. “They are closing a door here, but I think, perhaps, the door should be open,” he says.

In multiple sclerosis the immune system attacks and damages the myelin sheath that helps speed electrical communication between nerves, the equivalent of scraping the coating away from an electrical wire. The damage results in pain and symptoms such as loss of coordination and vision. 

In the new study, Kingsmore and his colleagues determined the entire genetic makeup of immune cells called T cells from a pair of female twins. One of the women developed multiple sclerosis at age 30 while her twin remained healthy. The twins are now old enough that the healthy one is not likely to develop the disease.

Identical twins share the same genetic makeup, and the researchers confirmed that both women carried variants of genes already known to increase the risk of getting multiple sclerosis. Scientists had thought that maybe the sick twin had developed an additional mutation in her DNA that finally triggered the disease. But the team found no such mutations.

Another way to rev up the immune system and induce it to attack the body is to increase the activity of certain genes. Upping gene activity doesn’t necessarily involve changing the genes themselves, but can be done by altering chemical tags on the DNA. In two pairs of twins, the team examined more than 2 million DNA locations that had been tagged with a common label, known as a methyl group, that keeps gene activity in check.

In a previous study, Ballestar’s group found lower levels of methylated DNA when they compared people with lupus (SN: 1/16/2010, p.13) to their healthy identical twins. But Kingsmore and his colleagues found no similar differences that could account for just one twin developing MS.

The team also measured gene activity in three sets of identical twins, including the sisters who had their genomes sequenced. The researchers did find some minor differences, but none could explain why one twin got sick and the other didn’t.

Scientists bag frog genome

Frogs have hopped onto the list of organisms that have had their genetic codes unraveled.

A new study, published April 30 in Science, lays out the genetic blueprint of the Western clawed frog, Xenopus tropicalis. A larger cousin of X. tropicalis, called Xenopus laevis, is a popular laboratory organism for studying development. But with a genome about half the size of X. laevis’, the Western clawed frog has easier DNA to decode, says Uffe Hellsten of the Department of Energy Joint Genome Institute in Walnut Creek, Calif.

Analysis of the Western clawed frog’s genome reveals that versions of 80 percent of genes that have been linked to disease in humans turn up in frogs.

Researchers hope that the genome sequence will help scientists track down the molecular steps that lead to amphibians’ high sensitivity to hormones and other toxins and offer clues to what is causing a worldwide decline of the animals.

People with post-traumatic stress disorder seem to accumulate an array of genetic changes different from those found in healthy people, researchers report online May 3 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

The new findings, while showing differences between people with and without PTSD, don't shed light on whether these differences might play a role in PTSD, says study coauthor Sandro Galea, a physician and epidemiologist at Columbia University in New York City.

Only a fraction of people who witness a traumatic event develop PTSD. In an attempt to identify what makes people who develop PTSD biologically different from those who don’t, Galea and his colleagues obtained blood samples from 100 people in the Detroit area. All had been exposed to at least one potentially traumatic event, and 23 were diagnosed with PTSD. The scientists tested 14,000 genes in these blood samples for chemical changes to DNA that can affect gene activity without altering the genetic information itself.

The researchers focused on the methylation of genes, a process in which a methyl molecule is added to DNA, typically turning off a gene and inhibiting production of the protein that the gene encodes. If people with PTSD have more or less methylation in specific genes, that might somehow contribute to PTSD, Galea says.

The team found that the people with PTSD showed less methylation in several immune system genes and more methylation in genes linked to the growth of brain cells. “There is evidence that PTSD is involved in immune dysfunction, and we suggest that that’s part of a larger process,” Galea says. Although previous studies have also suggested a PTSD link to immune gene activation, the connection is unclear.

“This is interesting data, but there are a lot of things still to do,” says Manel Esteller, a molecular geneticist at the Bellvitge Institute for Biomedical Research in Spain and the University of Barcelona who was not part of the study. “What’s missing is an explanation of how the traumatic stress really causes these changes in methylation — what is the mechanistic link?”

What’s more, the sample size of 23 patients is small, and PTSD diagnosis is tricky, says Naomi Breslau, a sociologist and epidemiologist who studies PTSD at Michigan State University in East Lansing. “I don’t believe this can be taken as a breakthrough.”

Galea agrees that finding the mechanisms involved will be the key to determining whether these methylation differences matter for PTSD. If further research clarifies how these changes play out in the body, he says, “that may allow us to eventually do something about it.”

Possible new extinct human species identified

A pre­vi­ously un­known line­age of hu­mans has been iden­ti­fied based on genes ex­tracted from a bit of bone found in Si­be­ria, sci­en­tists say.

The find­ing may rep­re­sent a new spe­cies that lived along­side Ne­an­der­thal peo­ple and an­a­tom­ic­ally “mod­ern” hu­mans in that re­gion, ac­cord­ing to the re­search­ers.

“I at first did­n’t be­lieve” that the re­sult could be pos­si­ble, said one of the re­search­ers in­volved with the find­ing, Svante Pääbo of the Max Planck In­sti­tute for Ev­o­lu­tion­ary An­thro­po­l­ogy, Leip­zig, Ger­ma­ny. How­ev­er, Pääbo said, ge­net­ic test re­sults showed “it’s some new crea­ture that has not been on our ra­dar screen so far.” The find­ings are pub­lished in the March 25 is­sue of the re­search jour­nal  Na­ture.

The con­clus­ions were based on the se­quenc­ing, or de­cod­ing, of the or­gan­is­m’s “mi­to­chon­drial ge­nome,” that is, DNA from a cel­lu­lar struc­tures called the mi­to­chon­dria.

Mi­to­chon­chon­drial DNA is not in­her­it­ed the same way as the rest of an an­i­mal’s DNA, but rath­er is passed down only from the moth­er. Be­cause un­like oth­er DNA it re­mains re­la­tive­ly un­changed when passed down through genera­t­ions, it plays an im­por­tant role in an­ces­try stud­ies, in par­tic­u­lar in de­ter­min­ing an or­gan­is­m’s moth­er-line an­ces­try.

The ge­net­ic se­quenc­ing point­ed to a pre­vi­ously un­known ho­minin, or ex­tinct mem­ber of the hu­man line­age, who lived in the Al­tai moun­tains of south­ern Si­be­ria be­tween 48,000 and 30,000 years ago, said the re­search­ers.

The inves­tigat­ing team, which in­clud­ed al­so re­search­ers from the Un­ited States, Aus­tria and Rus­sia, se­quenced genes from a ti­ny piece of pinky fin­ger bone found in Denisova cave in the Al­tai Moun­tains. They com­pared the mi­to­chon­drial ge­nome with that of mod­ern hu­mans and Ne­an­der­thals.

The anal­y­sis in­di­cat­ed that the crea­ture shared a com­mon fe­male or “mi­to­chon­drial” an­ces­tor with mod­ern hu­man and Ne­an­der­thals about a mil­lion years ago, the sci­en­tists said. That’s about twice as old as what is be­lieved to be the most re­cent com­mon mi­to­chon­drial an­ces­tor of mod­ern hu­mans and Ne­an­der­thals. Ne­an­der­thals were a stocky, now ex­tinct sub­group of our spe­cies, Ho­mo sapi­ens, who lived in Eu­rope and parts of Asia from around 100,000 to 30,000 years ago.

The age of the fos­sil and the lay­ers of earth in which they turned up al­so sug­gest “the Deni­sova ho­minin lived close in time and space with Ne­an­der­thals as well as with mod­ern hu­mans,” the re­search­ers wrote.

Al­though re­search­ers said they lacked de­fin­i­tive enough in­forma­t­ion to de­clare the fos­sil a new spe­cies, they said it al­so likely rep­re­sented a sep­a­rate migra­t­ion out of Af­ri­ca from mod­ern hu­mans and Ne­an­der­thals, both of whom are thought to have orig­i­nat­ed in that con­ti­nent. The in­ves­ti­ga­tors al­so said they have no in­forma­t­ion yet that could serve to phys­ic­ally de­scribe any un­usu­al char­ac­ter­is­tics that the new­found hu­man an­ces­tor might have pos­sessed.

Re­search­ers have identified a chem­i­cal chain of events that leads can­cer cells to age, and thus stop re­pro­duc­ing. By exp­loit­ing this process, they pro­pose, sci­en­tists might be able to de­vel­op new can­cer ther­a­pies.

The mo­lec­u­lar se­quence of events, called a sig­nal­ing path­way, is de­scribed in the March 18 is­sue of the research jour­nal Na­ture by in­ves­ti­ga­tors Pa­o­lo Pan­dolfi of the Har­vard Med­i­cal School and col­leagues.

Can­cer cells are nor­mally able to re­pro­duce them­selves in­def­i­nitely with­out age­ing; this in­deed is a co­re as­pect of the prob­lem con­fronting can­cer vic­tims. The out-of-control cell di­vi­sion leads to the crea­t­ion of an ever-growing load of tu­mors.

The newfound pathway drives cell ag­ing, or “se­nes­cence,” only in can­cerous con­di­tions, according to Pan­dol­fi’s group. A key com­po­nent of the path­way is a gene called Skp2, the sci­en­tists re­ported. By sup­press­ing this gene, they found that they could pro­foundly re­strict tu­mor forma­t­ion in mice by caus­ing can­cer cells to age. The pro­cess curbed cell di­vi­sion.

The re­search­ers al­so found that a Skp2-blocking drug in­duced ag­ing in a lab­o­r­a­to­ry cul­ture of hu­man pros­tate can­cer cells.

Be­cause the new­found ag­ing path­way seems to op­er­ate only in can­cer, it raises hopes that it could prove a use­ful tar­get for an­ti-can­cer treat­ments, which might avoid harm­ing healthy cells, the re­search­ers ar­gued. Such a treat­ment might al­so have the ad­van­tage of op­er­at­ing in a wide ar­ray of dif­fer­ent can­cer types.

“The chal­lenge ahead is to test wheth­er these pre­clin­i­cal stud­ies in mice can be trans­lated in­to more ef­fec­tive can­cer ther­a­pies,” wrote Man­u­el Ser­rano is of the Span­ish Na­tional Can­cer Re­search Cen­tre in Ma­drid, in a com­men­tary ac­com­pa­nying the study in Na­ture.

A study has now found that the brains of psy­chopaths seem to be wired to keep seek­ing a re­ward at any cost. Sci­en­tists say the re­search clar­i­fies the role of the brain’s re­ward sys­tem in psy­chop­a­thy and opens a new ar­ea of study for un­der­stand­ing what drives these twisted minds.

The study from from Van­der­bilt Uni­vers­ity in Nash­ville, Tenn. is pub­lished in the March 14 is­sue of the re­search jour­nal Na­ture Neu­ro­sci­ence.



“Psy­chopaths are of­ten thought of as cold-blood­ed crim­i­nals who take what they want with­out think­ing about con­se­quences,” Josh­ua Buck­holtz, a grad­u­ate stu­dent in psy­chol­o­gy and lead au­thor of the new stu­dy, said. “We found that a hyper-reac­tive dopamine re­ward sys­tem may be the founda­t­ion for some of the most prob­lem­at­ic be­hav­iors as­so­ci­at­ed with psy­chop­a­thy, such as vi­o­lent crime, re­cid­i­vism and sub­stance abuse.”

Dopamine is the brain chem­i­cal most closely as­so­ci­at­ed with pleas­ure and ex­cite­ment.

Pre­vi­ous re­search on psy­chop­a­thy has fo­cused on what these peo­ple lack­—fear, em­pa­thy and in­ter­per­son­al skills. The new re­search, how­ev­er, ex­am­ines what they have in abun­dance—im­pul­siv­ity, height­ened at­trac­tion to re­wards and risk tak­ing, said Buck­holtz and his co-auth­ors. Im­por­tant­ly, the lat­ter traits are those most closely linked with the vi­o­lent and crim­i­nal as­pects of psy­chop­a­thy, re­search­ers said.

“There has been a long tra­di­tion of re­search on psy­chop­a­thy that has fo­cused on the lack of sen­si­ti­vity to pun­ish­ment and a lack of fear, but those traits are not par­tic­u­larly good pre­dic­tors of vi­o­lence or crim­i­nal be­hav­ior,” said Van­der­bilt psy­chol­o­gist Da­vid Zald, co-au­thor of the stu­dy.

“Our da­ta is sug­gest­ing that some­thing might be hap­pen­ing on the oth­er side of things. These in­di­vid­u­als ap­pear to have such a strong draw to re­ward—to the car­rot—that it over­whelms the sense of risk or con­cern about the stick.”

The re­search­ers used a brain im­ag­ing tech­nique called pos­i­tron emis­sion to­mog­ra­phy, or PET, to meas­ure dopamine re­lease, in con­cert with a probe of the brain’s re­ward sys­tem us­ing func­tion­al mag­net­ic im­ag­ing, or fMRI. “The really strik­ing thing is with these two very dif­fer­ent tech­niques we saw a very si­m­i­lar pat­tern—both were height­ened in in­di­vid­u­als with psy­cho­pathic traits,” Zald said.

Vol­un­teers for the study took a per­son­al­ity test to gauge their lev­el of psy­cho­pathic traits. These traits lie on a spec­trum: vi­o­lent crim­i­nals fall at its ex­treme end, but a nor­mally func­tion­ing per­son can al­so have psy­cho­pathic traits to some de­gree. These traits in­clude ma­ni­pu­la­tive­ness, ego­cen­tricity, ag­gres­sion and risk tak­ing.

The re­search­ers gave the vol­un­teers a dose of am­phet­a­mine, or speed, and then scanned their brains us­ing PET to view dopamine re­lease in re­sponse to the stim­u­lant. Sub­stance abuse has been shown in the past to be as­so­ci­at­ed with al­tera­t­ions in dopamine re­sponses. Psy­chop­a­thy is strongly as­so­ci­at­ed with sub­stance abuse.

“Our hy­poth­e­sis was that psy­cho­pathic traits are al­so linked to dys­func­tion in dopamine re­ward cir­cuit­ry,” Buck­holtz said. “Con­sis­tent with what we thought, we found peo­ple with high lev­els of psy­cho­pathic traits had al­most four times the amount of dopamine re­leased in re­sponse to am­phet­a­mine.”

The re­search sub­jects were lat­er told they would re­ceive some mon­ey for com­plet­ing a sim­ple task. Their brains were scanned with fMRI while they were per­form­ing the task. The re­search­ers found in those par­ti­ci­pants with more psy­cho­pathic traits the dopamine re­ward ar­ea of the brain, the nu­cle­us ac­cum­bens, was much more ac­tive while they were an­ti­cipat­ing the re­ward.

“It may be that be­cause of these ex­ag­ger­at­ed dopamine re­sponses, once they fo­cus on the chance to get a re­ward, psy­chopaths are un­able to al­ter their at­ten­tion un­til they get what they’re af­ter,” Buck­holtz said. Added Zald, “It’s not just that they don’t ap­pre­ci­ate the po­ten­tial threat, but that the an­ti­cipa­t­ion or mo­tiva­t­ion for re­ward over­whelms those con­cerns.”

Distant solar system forming from mysterious dust, scientists say


















Artist'sren­der­ing of what HD 131488's in­ner plan­e­tary sys­tem might look like as two large rocky bod­ies col­lide. In­set il­lus­trates the lo­ca­tion of HD 131488's dust belts (top) and com­pa­ra­ble re­gions to our own So­lar Sys­tem (bot­tom). HD 131488's hot in­ner dust belt has si­m­i­lar sep­a­ra­tions from its host star as the ter­res­tri­al plan­et zone around our Sun while the star's cool dust belt has si­m­i­lar sep­a­ra­tions from its host star as the Kuiper Belt re­gion in our So­lar Sys­tem. Al­so shown for our So­lar Sys­tem are the or­bits of Ju­pi­ter, Sat­urn, Ura­nus, and Nep­tune.</font> (Cour­te­sy Gem­i­ni Ob­serv­a­to­ry)

A far-off so­lar sys­tem seems to be form­ing from a strange dust whose make­up is un­like that of our and oth­er so­lar sys­tems, as­tro­no­mers say.

The researchers at the Univers­ity of Cal­i­for­nia Los An­ge­les found ev­i­dence for the forma­t­ion of young, rocky plan­ets from dust cir­cling a star some 500 light-years away. A light-year is the dis­tance light trav­els in a year

“Un­til now, warm dust found around oth­er stars has been very si­m­i­lar in com­po­si­tion to as­ter­oi­dal or com­et­ary ma­te­ri­al in our So­lar Sys­tem,” said the uni­vers­ity’s Carl Melis, who led the re­search while a grad­u­ate stu­dent.

But this case is diff­er­ent, he said.

“Typic­ally, dust de­bris around oth­er stars, or our own Sun, is of the ol­i­vine, py­rox­ene, or sil­ica va­ri­e­ty, min­er­als com­monly found on Earth,” he noted. But this ma­te­ri­al “is not one of these dust types. We have yet to iden­ti­fy what spe­cies it is.”

Melis re­ported the find­ings last Wednes­day at the annual Amer­i­can As­tro­nom­i­cal So­ci­e­ty meet­ing in Wash­ing­ton, D.C.

The star, known as HD 131488, ap­pears to be sur­rounded by warm dust in a re­gion called the ter­res­tri­al plan­et zone, where tem­per­a­tures are si­m­i­lar to those on Earth, Melis said. He added that the dust seems to harbor rocky, emb­ry­onic planets that have re­cently coll­ided.

“What makes HD 131488 truly un­ique is the un­iden­ti­fied dust spe­cies re­leased from the col­lid­ing bod­ies as well as the pres­ence of cold dust far away from the star,” said as­tron­o­mer Ben­ja­min Zuck­er­man of the univers­ity, a co-author of the re­search. “These two char­ac­ter­is­tics make HD 131488 un­like any oth­er star with ev­i­dence for mas­sive quanti­ties of dust in its ter­res­tri­al plan­et zone.”

The re­search­ers an­a­lyzed the warm in­ner dust through in­fra­red im­ag­ing and spec­tros­co­py us­ing an in­stru­ment called T-ReCS on the Gem­i­ni South tel­e­scope in Chil­e. Spec­tros­co­py is the anal­y­sis of the com­po­si­tion of ob­jects us­ing the spec­trum of light they give off.

Melis and his team ar­gue that the most plau­si­ble ex­plana­t­ion for the un­usu­al abun­dance of warm dust is a re­cent col­li­sion of two rocky plan­e­tary mass bod­ies.

While the mys­te­ri­ous warm dust lies at a dis­tance from HD 131488 that is com­pa­ra­ble to the Earth-Sun separa­t­ion, the team al­so found cool­er dust about 45 times fur­ther out. This out­er dusty re­gion is anal­o­gous to the Kuiper Belt in our own So­lar Sys­tem where many mi­nor plan­ets or­bit the Sun just be­yond the or­bit of Nep­tune.

“The hot dust al­most cer­tainly came from a re­cent cat­a­stroph­ic col­li­sion be­tween two large rocky bod­ies in HD 131488’s in­ner plan­e­tary sys­tem,” Melis said. But the cool­er dust “is probably left over from plan­et forma­t­ion that took place far­ther away from HD 131488.”

HD 131488 lies in the di­rec­tion of the con­stella­t­ion Cen­tau­rus and is three times heav­i­er and 33 times more lu­mi­nous than our own Sun. The star is part of a ma­jor, south­ern-hem­i­sphere star form­ing re­gion known as the Upper-Cen­tau­rus-Lupus as­socia­t­ion whose mem­bers are be­lieved to be about 10 mil­lion years old. By con­trast, the Sun and Earth are about 4.6 bil­lion years old..

Females may harbor biological “inner male”










In adult fe­male mice, switch­ing off one gene seems to start turn­ing the ovaries in­to tes­ti­cles and trig­gers the pro­duct­ion of male hor­mones at nor­mal male levels, sci­en­tists say.

The cu­ri­ous find­ings have led two re­search­ers to re­mark in a pub­lished pa­per that, bi­o­log­ic­ally speak­ing, fe­males may be en­gaged in a life­long “bat­tle to sup­press their in­ner ma­le.”

Both pa­pers ap­pear in the Dec. 11 is­sue of the re­search jour­nal Cell.

The new results echo a pre­vious study that found that fe­male ovar­ian tissues in mice start to con­vert to male-like tis­sues in the ab­sence of sig­nals from es­tro­gen, a fe­male sex hor­mone. That stu­dy ap­peared in the Dec. 17, 1999 is­sue of the jour­nal Science.

In the newer re­search, N. Hen­ri­ette Uh­len­haut of the Eu­ro­pe­an Mo­lec­u­lar Bi­ol­o­gy Lab­o­r­a­to­ry in Hei­del­berg, Ger­ma­ny, and col­leagues were stu­dy­ing genes that dur­ing de­vel­op­ment are re­spon­si­ble for con­vert­ing glands called go­nads in­to ei­ther ovaries or tes­ti­cles, de­pend­ing on the sex.

Ovaries produce eggs, the fe­male sex cells, while tes­ti­cles produce sperm.

Uh­len­haut and col­leagues ge­net­ic­ally en­gi­neered mice in which the ac­ti­vity of a called Fox2L could be chem­ic­ally sup­pressed in the ovaries.

Fox2L, in turn, is a reg­u­la­tor gene that in­flu­ences the lev­el of ac­ti­vity of an ar­ray of oth­er genes. Among oth­er things, it keeps in check genes that tend to pro­mote tes­ti­cle de­vel­op­ment, ac­cord­ing to Uh­len­haut’s group.

Switch­ing off Fox2L had the im­me­di­ate ef­fect of in­creas­ing the lev­el of ac­ti­vity of some of these “tes­tis-specific” genes, the sci­en­tists re­ported. Crit­i­cal among these, they iden­ti­fied one called Sox9.

Con­com­i­tant with the boost in Sox9 ac­ti­vity was a “re­pro­gram­ming” of cer­tain ovar­i­an cell lin­eages in­to what ap­peared to be tes­tis cell lin­eages, Uh­len­haut and col­leagues found. Mean­while, the mod­i­fied ovaries be­gan pro­duc­ing nor­mal ma­le-like lev­els of the hor­mone tes­tos­ter­one.

“Our re­sults show that main­te­nance of the ovar­i­an phe­no­type [form] is an ac­tive pro­cess through­out life,” the sci­en­tists wrote.

It’s un­clear wheth­er the find­ings would trans­late to hu­mans, but be­cause mice share over 90 per­cent of their genes with hu­mans, it very of­ten hap­pens that mouse pro­cesses have par­al­lels in hu­mans.

It would seem “tes­tic­u­lar de­vel­op­ment is ac­tively re­pressed through­out the life of fe­ma­les,” added An­drew Sin­clair and Craig Smith of the Mur­doch Chil­dren’s Re­search In­sti­tute in Mel­bourne, Aus­tral­ia, in a pa­per pub­lished in the same is­sue of Cell. Sin­clair and Smith the re­search­ers who in their ar­ti­cle metaphoric­ally sug­gested an “in­ner ma­le” may lurk with­in all fe­ma­les also not­ed the find­ings go against “con­ven­tional wis­dom” that the ova­ry and tes­tis are “ter­mi­nally dif­fer­en­ti­ated,” or ir­re­versibly de­vel­oped to their ma­ture state.

Sci­en­tists have found that pri­ons in­fec­tious mol­e­cules that cause fa­tal brain dis­eases can evolve in a Dar­win­i­an fash­ion, though they lack any DNA or si­m­i­lar ma­te­ri­al.

The study from Scripps Re­search In­sti­tute in Ju­pi­ter, Fla. found that pri­ons can de­vel­op many muta­t­ions. Muta­t­ions that help the pri­ons to with­stand threats then tend to per­sist in a “popula­t­ion” of pri­ons, while oth­er pri­ons are de­stroyed. This even­tu­ally leads the pri­ons to de­vel­op adapta­t­ions such as drug re­sist­ance.

The pro­cess in oth­er words would seem to be analogous to the way that liv­ing things evolve, ac­cord­ing to Dar­win­ist prin­ci­ples. Vi­rus­es, too which are of­ten con­sid­ered non-liv­ing can evolve. But un­like pri­ons, vi­ruses have in com­mon with life forms that they con­tain DNA or closely re­lat­ed mol­e­cule, RNA.

The prion study was pub­lished in the Dec. 31 is­sue of the re­search jour­nal Sci­ence Ex­press, an ad­vance, on­line edi­tion of the jour­nal Sci­ence.

Pri­ons con­sist of pro­teins, large mol­e­cule com­posed of many smaller mo­lec­u­lar sub­units of so-called ami­no acids. Pro­tein mol­e­cules have dif­fer­ent char­ac­ter­is­tics de­pend­ing on the pre­cise ar­range­ment of their sub­units. This in­cludes dif­fer­ent ways the pro­tein’s parts can be folded about with re­spect to each oth­er.

Many of the pri­on “muta­t­ions” boil down to dif­fer­ent fold­ing ar­range­ments, said Charles Weiss­mann, head of Scripps Flori­da’s De­part­ment of In­fec­tol­ogy, who led the stu­dy. These var­i­ous fold­ings play an anal­o­gous ev­o­lu­tion­ary role in pri­ons to dif­fer­ent DNA se­quences, or codes, in the ev­o­lu­tion of liv­ing things.

“On the face of it, you have ex­actly the same pro­cess of muta­t­ion and adaptive change in pri­ons as you see in vi­rus­es,” he ex­plained.

In­fec­tious pri­ons short for pro­tein­a­ceous in­fec­tious par­t­i­cles are as­so­ci­at­ed with some 20 dif­fer­ent dis­eases in hu­mans and an­i­mals, in­clud­ing mad cow dis­ease and a rare hu­man form, Creutzfeldt-Jakob dis­ease. All are un­treat­able and even­tu­ally fa­tal. Pri­ons, which are com­posed solely of pro­tein, are clas­si­fied by dis­tinct strains, orig­i­nally char­ac­terized by their in­cuba­t­ion time and the dis­ease they cause.

Pri­ons ex­ist in a nor­mal, healthy form, pro­duced nat­u­rally in mam­ma­li­an cells, called cel­lu­lar pri­on pro­tein or PrPC. The dis­ease pro­cess be­gins when pri­ons take on an abnor­mal, mis­folded form. A nor­mal pri­on that comes in­to con­tact with a mis­folded one may as a re­sult be­come mis­folded it­self. This zom­bie-like pro­cess may even­tually lead to the creation of huge as­sem­blies of these mis­folded pro­teins. They stick to­geth­er and cause mas­sive dam­age.

“It was gen­er­ally thought that once cel­lu­lar pri­on pro­tein was con­vert­ed in­to the abnor­mal form, there was no fur­ther change,” Weiss­mann said. “But there have been hints that some­thing was hap­pen­ing. When you trans­mit pri­ons from sheep to mice, they be­come more vir­u­lent over time. Now we know that the abnor­mal pri­ons rep­li­cate, and cre­ate vari­ants, per­haps at a low lev­el in­i­tial­ly. But once they are trans­ferred to a new host, nat­u­ral se­lec­tion will even­tu­ally choose the more vir­u­lent and ag­gres­sive vari­ants.”

Weiss­mann and his col­leagues trans­ferred pri­on popula­t­ions from in­fected brain cells to cul­ture cells. When trans­planted, cell-a­dapted pri­ons de­vel­oped and out-competed their brain-a­dapted coun­ter­parts, con­firm­ing pri­ons’ abil­ity to adapt to new sur­round­ings, ac­cord­ing to the sci­en­tists. When re­turned to brain, brain-a­dapted pri­ons again took over the popula­t­ion.

Weiss­mann said the find­ings have im­plica­t­ions for the de­vel­op­ment of treat­ments. In­stead of de­vel­oping drugs to tar­get abnor­mal pro­teins, it could be more ef­fi­cient to try to lim­it the supply of nor­mally pro­duced pri­ons – in es­sence, re­duc­ing the amount of fu­el for the fire, he pro­posed. Weiss­mann and his col­leagues found some 15 years ago that ge­net­ic­ally en­gi­neered mice de­void of the nor­mal pri­on pro­tein de­vel­op and func­tion quite nor­mally and are re­sist­ant to pri­on dis­ease.

“Find­ing a way to in­hib­it the pro­duc­tion of nor­mal pri­on pro­tein is a proj­ect cur­rently be­ing pur­sued in col­la­bora­t­ion with Scripps Flor­i­da Pro­fes­sor Co­rinne Las­mezas in our de­part­ment,” he said.

In a study that could help clar­i­fy the com­plex rela­t­ion­ships be­tween the brain, en­vi­ron­ment and be­hav­ior, re­search­ers have found that four-month-old in­fants’ tem­per­a­ment pre­dicts some as­pects of their brain struc­ture 18 years lat­er.

Sci­en­tists at Mas­sa­chu­setts Gen­er­al Hos­pi­tal in Charles­town, Mass., stud­ied 76 eighteen-year-olds that, at four months of age, had been cat­e­go­rized in pre­vi­ous re­search as “high-reac­tive” or “low-reac­tive.” High-reac­tive gen­er­ally means shy and in­hib­ited, while low-reac­tive means out­go­ing and un­in­hib­ited.

The in­ves­ti­ga­tors used a form of brain scan­ning known as struc­tur­al mag­net­ic res­o­nance im­ag­ing, which em­ploys mag­net­ic field and ra­di­o waves to pro­duce clear and de­tailed pic­tures of the brain.

Adults with a low-reac­tive in­fant tem­per­a­ment showed great­er thick­ness in a brain struc­ture called the left or­bitofrontal cor­tex, the sci­en­tists found. This re­gion has been im­pli­cat­ed in pro­cess­ing of emo­tions and of self-monitoring.

On the oth­er hand, the adults pre­vi­ously cat­e­go­rized as high-reac­tive, showed great­er thick­ness in the right ven­tro­me­dial pre­fron­tal cor­tex, the re­search­ers re­ported. This brain ar­ea has been linked to im­pulse con­trol, with great­er size linked to more self-con­trol, and with the anal­y­sis of so­cial situa­t­ions.

“To our knowl­edge, this is the first demon­stra­t­ion that tem­per­a­mental dif­fer­ences meas­ured at four months of age have im­plica­t­ions for the ar­chi­tec­ture of hu­man cer­e­bral cor­tex last­ing in­to adult­hood,” the re­search­ers wrote in the stu­dy, pub­lished in the Jan­u­ary is­sue of the jour­nal Ar­chives of Gen­er­al Psy­chi­a­try. The cer­e­bral cor­tex is a lay­er of brain cells cov­er­ing the sur­face of the brain and linked to ad­vanced think­ing func­tions.

High-reac­tive in­fants are char­ac­ter­ized at age four months by vig­or­ous ac­ti­vity and cry­ing in re­sponse to un­fa­mil­iar stim­u­li, ac­cord­ing to the au­thors, Carl Schwartz, di­rec­tor of the hos­pi­tal’s De­vel­op­men­tal Neuroim­ag­ing and Psy­cho­pa­thol&sh Re­search Lab­o­r­a­to­ry, and col­leagues. Low-reac­tive in­fants by con­trast stay more still and cry less in re­spose to the same situa­t­ions.

High-reac­tive in­fants tend to be­come be­hav­iorally in­hib­ited in the sec­ond year of life, while low-reac­tive in­fants tend the op­po­site way, the au­thors added.