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Authors: Michael Cordy

True (6 page)

BOOK: True
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As was his wont, Max's half-brother was dressed in a flamboyant bow-tie and smoked the same Sobranie cigarettes as the father he worshipped. Although he was ten years younger than Max, his ambition to succeed Helmut Kappel was transparent. This didn't bother Max, because he knew it would never happen. Joachim was academically brilliant and their father indulged him more than he had ever indulged Max even, perhaps because Helmut saw more of himself reflected in his younger son's features, but Joachim wasn't a leader: he was too weak and too quick to seek approval.

'Thank you for agreeing to see me,' Bacci said.

'I hope we can help you, Professor,' Helmut said, with a relaxed smile. 'We are primarily bankers, but my son Max heads our business-consultancy section, while my other son, Joachim, heads Up Comvec, which, as you know, specializes in bringing bio tech ventures to market. Both may prove relevant to our discussions today.' He paused. 'Tell me, Professor, why did you leave the States?'

Bacci took a sip of his espresso and fiddled with the small silver case on the table beside bis laptop. It intrigued Max. 'I became disillusioned. The big pharmaceutical companies I worked for did not give me the recognition or rewards I deserved. They say they want good science and cures for the world, but they don't. They just want profits.

'The big US banks are even worse. They don't care about investing in the future. They understand only one thing: the bottom line. If you've got money they'll lend you more. But if you need it they give you nothing. So I returned to the Old Country and its simpler values, to realize my vision in my own way.'

'Have you found Italy any different?'

A sigh. 'Not really. But Marco Trapani speaks highly of your bank and its values. As for Comvec, its viral vectors are world class, and I was particularly impressed by your approach to the revolutionary airborne Tag Vector, which, although brilliant, won't yield short-term profits.'

Max suppressed a wry smile as he caught his father glancing at Joachim. It was doubtful that the authorities would ever allow Joachim's Tag Vector, based on the virulent influenza retrovirus, to reach the market. Regardless of how brilliant it was, he didn't see how Comvec could convince them it was safe.

Helmut smiled. 'Kappel Privatbank is, first and foremost, a family firm. Professional fund managers, lawyers and consultants run the day-to-day operations, but the main board is made up of the four family members and we take a personal interest in every strategic decision relating to each of our select group of clients. Client trust is everything to us and we treat the issue of confidentiality as seriously as any doctor. In a sense we are financial doctors. What you say to us will stay inside this room, whether or not we choose to work together.'

He cleared his throat. 'Having said that, we need to know as much as possible about your proposition. It is in our interests to expand each client's wealth and our policy is therefore to recommend the service he needs, not necessarily the service he wants. This will require a rigorous analysis of your proposal.' He passed a file to Bacci. 'We've signed the standard non-disclosure and confidentiality agreements so feel free to tell us everything. If we appear to pry, please understand that we're simply doing our job. If this is unacceptable to you, Professor, we'll shake hands now and wish you well with another bank.'

Bacci opened the file and checked the signed documents. 'No, that sounds acceptable.'

'Excellent. Anything you want to add, Joachim?'

Joachim shook his head.

Helmut turned to Max. 'Max?'

Max was always a little surprised by how charming and persuasive his father could be when he put his mind to it. 'No,' he said, 'I think you've covered everything.' He glanced down at the file he had compiled on Bacci. The professor had attended and worked at most of the top east-coast colleges, including MIT, Princeton, Yale and Harvard, and had several Ph. D. S. His distinguished career had been spent researching and developing gene therapies for the so-called 'big four' neural disorders: Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, schizophrenia and depression. Bacci's work on Parkinson's would have won him the Nobel Prize if a reputation for being difficult -- among the powerful pharmaceutical companies who sponsored his work - hadn't counted against him.

Five years ago, a wealthy individual who had benefited directly from his work on Parkinson's had bequeathed to Bacci a significant amount of money. This had inspired the professor to cut all ties with the pharmaceutical industry and settle in Italy.

But as Max scanned the file's contents his eyes were constantly drawn to a printout from the MilanUniversityHospital website. It showed a photograph of Isabella Bacci. There was something about the direct way in which the professor's daughter stared out at him . . . Her large, expressive eyes and lopsided smile made her appear simultaneously vulnerable and strong. Intriguing.

'It seems your last five years in Italy haven't been idle, Professor Bacci,' Joachim said. He gestured to the silver case. 'I'm guessing from your distinguished track record that you've discovered some exciting new therapy or cure.'

'It's not a cure,' Bacci said. 'In fact, it's the opposite. He powered up the laptop and angled the screen towards them. 'I've discovered a way to stimulate a common sickness, a benign but extremely powerful mental illnesscrucial to the evolution of the human race.

Helmut frowned, and Joachim adjusted his glasses. Max found himself leaning forward in his chair.

Bacci pressed a key on the laptop and the title 'NiL 072' appeared on top of the screen. Beneath it was a single line: 'Marazziti Study, University of Pisa 1999'.

'The mental illness I'm talking about,' Bacci said, 'is falling in love.' A gleam came into his eye and his earlier nervousness fell away. 'The first thing you must understand is that when people say they're lovesick, they're not exaggerating. A study conducted in nineteen ninety-nine by Donatella Marazziti and her colleagues at the University of Pisa indicated that there were strong similarities in brain chemistry between those who are in love and those suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, the condition typified by intrusive thoughts and an irresistible need to allay anxiety by continually repeating irrational rituals, such as hand-washing.

'In the early stages of love, people exhibit comparable symptoms: intrusive one-track thoughts focused on one person, which they know are irrational but can't get rid of, and a compulsion to do things they wouldn't normally do -- follow the love object around, wait by the phone for them to call, constantly check they're where they're supposed to be. These are all classic symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder and are often accompanied by a high level of anxiety.' The screen changed. 'The study in Pisa tested students who had recently fallen in love and found that the feel-good brain chemical serotonin was forty per cent below normal in their brains.' The screen changed again. 'As you can see from this next chart these figures, relating to people diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, are comparable. Marazziti's research indicated that "love sickness" was a temporary, healthy version of OCD, instrumental in both human reproduction and evolution.'

Max saw his father nodding. The idea of any emotion, particularly love, being a sickness would chime perfectly with his view of the world.

'The second thing you must realize is that falling in love is a chemical process that happens in the brain, not the heart. It's a natural phenomenon regulated by a well-established three-stage biological process.'

Joachim's pen scratched furiously as he hunched over his pad.

Bacci pressed a key on the laptop and another tide appeared: 'The Three Phases of Love'. Beneath it were three bullet points:

*Phase 1 - Attraction

*Phase 2 -- Infatuation

*Phase 3 -- True Love

Bacci extended a finger. 'In the first flush of love our sex hormones and pheromones take centre stage. Levels of dopamine in the body shoot up, stirring urgent sensations of anticipation and reward. This is of vital importance in securing the interest of and attracting a mate.' He extended two fingers. 'In the second phase the serotonin level drops and is overtaken by adrenaline and noradrenaline, experienced as the excitement and anxiety of infatuation, nature's way of ensuring we focus our mating energy on one person -- it's when the obsessive-compulsive effect is most pronounced.'

He extended a third finger. 'But if infatuation is to evolve and develop into enduring, stable "true love" another group of hormones must predominate - endorphins and bonding chemicals, like vasopressin and oxytocin. Oxytocin is the chemical produced after orgasm and when a mother gives birth. The feeling of stabilizing calm and well-being it promotes is nature's reward for staying with our partner or our offspring. This third stage is nature's way of ensuring that any child produced by the match has two parents, at least through its early years.'

'So love's just a trick of nature?' Helmut said.

Bacci smiled. 'In a way. But it's the trick that makes life both possible and worth living.'

'So what's your discovery?' Max said, crossing his arms.

Bacci raised a hand in an apparent plea for patience. 'My last project in the States was at MIT and involved developing a genetic antidepressant. The sponsors, Drake Pharmaceuticals, were trying to create an alternative to Prozac with none of its side-effects. The new drug would work on a genetic level, so instead of a patient having to take tablets indefinitely he or she could be treated just once. It promised to be a breakthrough, a cure rather than a treatment for a whole host of anxiety diagnoses -- including obsessive-compulsive disorder. Then, just as we were making progress, Brandt Tolzer, the makers of a leading Prozac clone, acquired Drake and cancelled the project. They preferred patients to keep taking the tablets. More tablets meant more profits.

'But before Brandt Tolzer came on the scene something interesting happened during the clinical trials of my genetic Prozac. Luckily the effects were short-term -- all my test serums are designed to last no longer than forty-eight hours -- but the episode scared Drake.'

What happened?' Joachim asked.

'Put simply, Prozac-style drugs work by boosting the levels of the feel-good brain chemical serotonin. When patients are first taking Prozac they experience, paradoxically, increased emotional anxiety and suicidal urges while their neural connections adapt to the abrupt change in brain chemistry. For some reason the experimental serum boosted this effect. It didn't make the subjects suicidal, but it elevated their emotional responses. It acted like emotional Viagra. Subjects who had been strangers before the study formed intense relationships over the forty-eight-hour period -- usually with the first person they met of the opposite sex.

'When the subjects were examined on an MRI brain scanner I noticed something strange. A firestorm of brain activity was centred on the inferotemporal cortex and the fusiform gyms - the areas of the brain that specialize in human-face recognition. This activity was most intense when the subject was looking at the face of the person he or she had most bonded with during the forty-eight-hour research period. Even a photograph was enough to light up their brain scans like an explosion of Roman candles. Basically, the subjects were experiencing intense emotions -- akin to those of falling in love -- then associating them with the first face they saw when the drug began to take effect.'

'Love at first sight?' said Max. 'Like in Shakespeare?'

Bacci nodded vigorously. 'A. Midsummer Night's Dream. Exactly. Then, after forty-eight hours, the subjects returned to normal with no ill effects -- except embarrassment. Anyway, Drake wanted to bury their mistake so I told them nothing, and when Brandt Tolzer came on the scene I left and continued to develop the serum myself. After numerous refinements I eventually came up with this.'

Bacci unlocked the silver case and opened it so that the lid obscured Max's view of the contents. He retrieved a thumb-size vial of micro-fine powder and handed it to Max. 'This is NiL Sixty-Nine.'

Max studied the label. The descriptor appeared to be an acronym, a lower case i between a capital N and L. There was a hash mark between it and the number: NiL #069. He held it up to the light and studied the off-white powder. It didn't look like a world-changing wonder drug.

Joachim took the vial from him and seemed more impressed. He handed it to Helmut.

'What is this, Professor Bacci?' Helmut asked. 'What am I holding?'

'The sixty-ninth iteration of the drug.'

'But what is it?'

Bacci frowned, as if the answer was obvious. 'Love. True love.'

'TRUE LOVE?' HELMUT REPEATED.

'Strictly speaking, it's nature-identical love,' Bacci said. 'I call it NiL. Many of the flavours and perfumes - such as vanilla and rose - that we experience in modern products and foods are nature-identicals, chemical clones of natural ingredients, that deliver the same experience at a fraction of the cost. My NiL drug works on the same principle, synthesizing the chemicals in the brain to re-create exactly the experience of love.

'After analysing the original serum and its effects I discovered that it stimulated the intense feelings of anxiety and excitement associated with the first two stages of falling in love, attraction and infatuation, but not those of the third stage, so I improved it.'

'How?' said Joachim, eyes wide.

Helmut watched his sons, noting that Max didn't share his younger brother's enthusiasm. Where Joachim scribbled furiously on his pad, Max sat back, arms crossed, a quizzical expression on his face.

BOOK: True
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