Once upon a time, there was a single cell.
It split into two daughter cells. One cell dreamed of walking the earth, the other dreamed of hiding in the soil, nestled in the earth's skin.
They parted ways, and after billions of years they forgot their common origins.
The children of the earth-walking-dreaming cell became sentient, and built dwellings across the globe. The children of the earth-nestling-dreaming cell formed thin fingers that wrapped around the soil, being nourished by the nutrients of Mother Earth herself.
But despite their vastly different fates, they retained similarities; they had similar metabolisms, similar food sources, and they both fought similar pathogens.
The children of the earth-walking-dreaming cell became masters of the macro domain, slaughtering animals and trees to sustain their vast numbers, but they could not fight the battles of the micro domain, and they became ill.
The children of the earth-nestling-dreaming cell, having no interest in matters above ground, mastered the battle of the micro domain, and therefore was never troubled by the illnesses that plagued the earth-walking-dreaming cell's children.
One day, after billions of years of coexistence, one child of the earth-walking-dreaming cell wandered into an old-growth redwood forest, turned to its underground counterpart, and asked it how it lived. And in response, he was told a tale of the daily microscopic battles it waged, skirmishes with other organisms for food, and with viruses for its own livelihood.
The child of the earth-walking-dreaming cell listened intently, having recognized its own plight with illness in its counterpart's tale.
He begged his underground sister to share her secrets, and she willingly offered up one of her millions of limbs, saying, "Take this piece of me, let it cure what ails you."
The earth-walking-dreaming cell's child graciously took the severed limb and brought it to his home. Using his own earth-walking-dreaming magic, he sang to the limb until it opened up and revealed its secrets to him.
He took the illness and gave it to the limb, praying it would not perish. But lo! it neutralized the virus quickly, and remained completely unaffected.
He rejoiced, and squeezed the limb until it let free its juices, and fed it to his village, where many were suffering and dying from the illness, and the earth-nestling-dreaming cell's child's juice saved them all.
Humbled by the wisdom shown by his sister, he went back to the redwood forest, and asked her if she would be willing to give up more of herself for the sake of saving his people.
Laughing, she said, "My brother, I am endless. I permeate the ground upon which you walk; mine is an endless body. You may take what you need, as long as you promise me one thing in return: that you do not conquer my home as you have the rest of the earth."
The man, weeping at his sister's selflessness, fell to his knees and agreed that he would keep her home sacred and untouched.
This is the tale of of how the cure for the flu was discovered in fungi living in the old-growth redwood forests.
Thanks to this talk by Paul Stamets, courtesy of the TED conference:
