He tapped the pen on the table while he concentrated. He thought back over the last five years in the BigPharma marketplace—and he found himself hard-pressed to think of any blockbusters that weren’t Denali’s. Why?
Things had been different maybe ten or so years ago. Pathogens used to evolve in a much more gradual way. This made drug development easier, because established drugs could be tweaked in ways to address the evolution. At least usually. Then resistant strains began to develop and they tended to evolve in leaps and bounds. The incremental approach to drugs no longer sufficed.
Then within the last few years, it seemed there were no gradually evolving pathogens left. They were all high-stakes and fast-changing.
And that is when Denali took off, leaving everyone else, including Horton, in the dust. Phil drew a timeline as he contemplated these changes. Then he stopped and stared at what he’d drawn as a connection sparked in his mind.
Was it just coincidence that the dramatic change in pathogens corresponded to the rise of Denali? Was there a cause-and-effect relationship?
And if there was, in which direction did it point?
Phil had heard the whispered rumors at BigPharma conferences over the past several years. Until now, he’d just chalked it up to professional jealousy. Looking at the timeline he’d drawn—and considering how quickly Denali had come up with the drug to address the MRSA-II pathogen—he began to wonder. Was it possible? If it was, he had no problem believing that Dan Tremaine would use those methods—or any method for that matter—to get to the top of BigPharma.
He thought about the Pathosym III and its powerful analytical and drug-development capabilities. Maybe it was possible. It was at least time to find out.
CHAPTER 18
Jerry took an extra moment to watch Sylvia as she leaned forward and stared intently at a series of charts and graphs on her FloaTouch display. He’d enjoyed working with her on the project, their first together. She made a great partner, with her intelligence and dedication. And, truth be told, he’d enjoyed having the chance to be near her.
But despite their best efforts together, they’d lost the race. It hurt to watch her still trying to make something of their futile work. He cleared his throat, then knocked lightly on the doorway to her ResearchStation pod. “You ready to head over and meet with Phil?”
Sylvia’s shoulders slumped as she shut off the display, then swiveled her chair around to face him. Her eyes held the dull, tired look of defeat. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go. He’s probably going to lay us off. Might as well get it over with.”
Jerry had no good comeback to that remark, and so they walked down the hall to Phil’s office in tense silence. They hadn’t heard a word from Phil since he told them that Denali had beaten them. No news was likely better news than a hastily scheduled meeting.
They announced themselves, entered Phil’s office, and took their seats in front of his desk. His wrinkled clothes, disheveled hair, and the dark circles beneath his eyes suggested that he had spent a sleepless night in his office.
Phil ran a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to smooth it into presentability. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you in, especially given the news I shared with you last time.” He stared down at a legal pad that contained what appeared to be diagrams and agitated handwritten notes. “I’ll get to the point. Denali’s win on the MRSA-II drug was…an enormous blow.”
Jerry’s stomach tightened as he steeled himself for the inevitable. He’d been with Horton for so long he couldn’t picture himself anywhere else. But he’d probably have to. That is, if he could find a position somewhere else, given his age and seniority. Companies didn’t like to hire older workers, didn’t like to pay senior-level salaries when they could get kids fresh out of school with the latest training under their belts. He hoped Horton would be able to pay some sort of severance to help him through what would likely be an extended job search—but given the financials, that might be too much to hope for.
Phil rubbed his eyes. “I spent the night here trying to figure out what to do next. Why are we in this situation, and what can we do to get out of it? And how long can we last while we try?” He tapped his fingers on the legal pad and gazed into the distance as if still pondering the problem.
Jerry stole a quick look at Sylvia. She sat up stiff and straight in her chair, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her pale face wore a look of resignation. He felt bad for her, but at least she would have the easier time finding a new position. She had great skills and excellent credentials. Hell, he’d give her a great reference to anyone who’d ask. He clenched his jaw and wished Phil would get this over with.
“Horton might be able to stagger on under current conditions for about a year. Maybe.” Phil stared at them with bloodshot eyes. “Do you want to help me save the company?”
Jerry nodded along with Sylvia, but had no clue how they could save the floundering Horton at this point, given the deadly combination of dire financials and Denali’s huge win.
Phil leaned forward in his chair, his face animated with newfound energy. “All right, then. How far did you get on the MRSA-II project?”
“Well, we developed maybe a dozen compounds.” Sylvia sighed. “But none of them had any effect on the pathogen.”
“Good. That’s good.” Phil stood, went to his window, and stared outside. “Last night I figured out why Denali won—and why they’ve been winning as they have.”
Jerry exchanged a confused glance with Sylvia, and wondered if he dared hope for their jobs and Horton’s survival after all.
Phil turned back around to face them. “I looked at it all different ways, and I kept coming back to the same conclusion. There have been rumors that I didn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe them. Now we have no choice but to beat them at their own game.”
Something squirmed in the pit of Jerry’s stomach as he realized where Phil was going with this.
“I am convinced that Tremaine’s business model is to design pathogens—and their cures—and so create his own markets, his own blockbusters.” Phil rushed over to his desk, picked up the legal pad and slapped it for emphasis. “How else can you explain how fast they grew? How fast they came up with blockbuster after blockbuster?” He threw the pad back down onto his desk. “And how fast he came up with the drug for MRSA-II?”
Sylvia muttered, “Oh my God.”
“I don’t want to stoop to Tremaine’s level, but it’s life or death for Horton. I tried—believe me I tried—to think of other alternatives, but I see no other choice.” He faced them again, his jaw set. “I want you to alter the MRSA-II organism in such a way that it is susceptible to one of the compounds you developed. Gene-splicing, whatever it takes. Be sure it’s a solid cure, though. I don’t want to create a monster, just a pathogen-cure pairing that will buy us some market share.”
Jerry sat speechless. In all his years at Horton, no CEO would ever have considered such a thing. Horton Drugs had always stood for the highest ethics, even when those around them might have bent the rules. Horton had never had a scandal of any kind, never any regulatory action against it—even back when the FDA had some teeth.
Phil dropped into his chair as if all his energy had suddenly fled. “So, can we do it?”
Sylvia scowled down into her lap with a look of concentration, then spoke slowly, as if reluctantly reaching a decision. “I think so. I need to think through the most efficient approach, but yes, I think it can be done.”
“Phil, I—” Stunned and disappointed with both Phil and Sylvia and their willingness to cast aside ethics for dollars, Jerry struggled to find the right words. “I’m not sure this is the best way to go. Horton Drugs—”
Phil slapped his palms onto his desk and glared at him. “Do you want to keep your job?” He swept his arm horizontally to indicate the entire building. “Do you want all of us to keep our jobs? For Horton to even survive? Because that’s what it’s come down to. I’m well aware of Horton’s heritage, thank you.
And I’m not happy about having to do this, either. So we do it as carefully as possible. But we do it. Am I clear?”
CHAPTER 19
Sylvia felt like she’d just been picked up and dropped off into a new reality. She’d been sure they were going to get their pink slips, and instead Phil had revealed a theory and a plan that she was still trying to process.
As they stepped outside Phil’s office and shut the door, Jerry turned to her, his face white and his lips pressed tightly together. “We need to talk.”
“What—”
“What do you think? Let’s go to the conference room where it’s private.”
They walked the short distance down the hall without another word, then Jerry motioned her into the room ahead of him and closed the door.
Sylvia took a seat and watched as Jerry glared at the floor and strode back and forth, his jaw and fists clenched. She’d never seen him so worked up; he was always calm and even-tempered. She waited for him to speak.
Finally, he stopped and faced her. “I can’t believe he wants to do this.”
“Well, you heard him. Horton’s going down unless something drastic is done. That’s not inside information, you know. The stock price has been in the tank for the last few years. I just can’t believe what Denali’s been doing.”
Hands in pockets, Jerry began to pace again. “I’d have expected this if they’d brought in an outsider, but a family member who would even entertain an idea like this…given the history here.”
Wanting to put an end to the conversation, Sylvia stood. “Don’t get me wrong, Jerry. I don’t like the ethics of it either, but if Phil’s right—and I suspect he is, now that I think about it—Denali has changed the landscape so there is no other way to compete. Else, you might as well hand Denali the entire BigPharma market, because that’s what will happen.” She shook her head. “It’s sad, but Denali appears to have set the standard for our line of work forever.”
“It’s wrong, Sylvia. It’s just wrong.”
She cut him off and spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t disagree with you. But we can’t afford to live in the past. Horton has to adapt to survive. But we must make sure we do it in the safest possible way. I’ll need your help to crosscheck at every stage. I wouldn’t want to miss anything—there’s too much at stake.”
Jerry flopped into a chair and put his face in his hands. “I never dreamed I’d be in this position—having to do something morally loathsome to keep my job. If this is going to be the norm going forward, I need to consider a new career. God knows what, but I don’t want to work this way. It’s not why I went into this line of work.”
Sylvia realized how deeply Phil’s plan disturbed Jerry and regretted snapping at him. She softened her tone. “You’ve put a lot into this company, I know. Maybe if this works and Horton gets back on its feet, Phil might not have to play by Denali’s rules going forward. Let’s create a new pathogen. But let’s do it together, carefully. Let’s create one that’s contagious enough to fuel a blockbuster drug, but that isn’t dangerous. Something that’s just really annoying and inconvenient to contract.”
Jerry sighed and stared down at the table. He spoke in a resigned tone. “I suppose that’s the best compromise under the circumstances. Maybe if we succeed, Phil won’t feel pressured to make this the new business model going forward.” He shrugged and avoided eye contact with her. “We can hope so, anyway.”
CHAPTER 20
Vince Calhoun took his seat in the crowded auditorium fifteen minutes before the appointed time. He glanced around as he waited, while the overhead lights were still on full strength. Everyone from the lowliest grunt lab assistants to the board of directors was in attendance at the quarterly all-staff meeting.
True believers all around. And why not? Everyone around him had benefitted handsomely from Denali stock options. Denali had never had a bad quarter in its relatively brief history.
The public, the pundits, anyone you might ask would say the same thing. Dan Tremaine is a genius, an innovator. A force to be reckoned with who changed the world of BigPharma in only a few short years.
Yep, he sure as hell was all those things. Vince knew this for a fact. As lead scientist and Tremaine’s confidante, Vince knew more than the CFO did about why Denali was so successful. He knew firsthand of Tremaine’s consuming ambition and single-minded focus on doing whatever it took to put Denali at the top. Tremaine had innovated, all right. He’d hatched the idea of making his own markets, and Vince had made the idea operational.
They’d started small, with pathogens they tweaked from existing lines. They were similar enough to other organisms that it didn’t take much to develop the needed companion drugs. And the similarity to other known pathogens helped hide their strategy, because it suggested natural evolution and adaptation—rather than the hand of deliberate design—was at work.
Vince had been fine with that approach. There was little downside or risk, and plenty of upside. The diseases weren’t that severe, and their scheme was unlikely to be discovered. The strategy had worked as intended, and it put Denali in a very strong financial position very quickly.
But that wasn’t enough for Tremaine. He wanted the big win. So he’d raised the ante considerably in asking Vince to develop a mutant version of the extremely dangerous flesh-eating MRSA bacterium.
Despite his misgivings, Vince undertook the project and made damned sure he also developed a compound that was a safe and rock-solid cure. Then, under instructions from Tremaine, he’d planted samples of the pathogen in several key locations. He’d expected Denali to release the cure shortly after cases of MRSA-II began to emerge. Tremaine’s insistence on waiting until the disease spread widely enough to force the president’s hand surprised him and created an ongoing conflict that had damaged their previously congenial relationship.
But, once again, Tremaine had made the nervy call and won big—even if more people than necessary died because of it. Vince hoped this would be enough of a win for Tremaine to dial it back a bit. But, knowing Tremaine, it would likely only stoke his ambitions.
The lights dimmed and the stage curtain opened. A single spotlight highlighted the emcee at the podium. He wore a formal tux for today’s event. Another thing that always made Vince uncomfortable—though it now paled in comparison to how the MRSA-II situation had been orchestrated—was the way Tremaine presented himself as a sort of rock star. Sure, the company was successful, partly due to his ideas. But his ideas would have been nothing if Vince hadn’t been able to execute them for him. All these things rankled Vince, though he sure as hell couldn’t complain about his financial share of the success.
After the emcee said a few words and extended his arm to invite Tremaine onto the stage, the audience reacted by giving a standing ovation. Vince rose along with them, not wanting to look out of place.
Dan Tremaine stepped up to the podium. His proud bearing and the confident look on his face gave the impression of a man fully aware he was at the top of his game. After enjoying several minutes of thunderous applause, he motioned for everyone to sit so he could speak.
“This quarter marks a new milestone in the history of Denali Labs. We’ve entered into what will undoubtedly prove to be our most lucrative product launch ever.” He paused for effect as he glanced at the expectant faces in the audience.
“Denali Labs took on what is arguably the most dangerous bacterial pathogen of modern times, MRSA-II, and succeeded in finding a cure. Not only did we find the cure before any of our so-called peers, but we signed an exclusive distribution contract with the U.S. government that will ensure blockbuster-level sales for the foreseeable future. All this with minimal production costs on our part, because the government is handling all the packaging and distribution.” He paused and smiled. “Sorry, Marketing. You don’t have any work to do for this product. Lucracillin will sell itself!”
The audience erupted into enthusiastic applause and again rose to its feet. Vince couldn’t decide if he was
more proud of having developed such a drug, or more disgusted at how the whole scenario had been set up. He stood and clapped as he wondered how many people died during the extended delay Tremaine had demanded.
But even if Tremaine had listened to him and kept the cure’s launch time to an absolute minimum, the pathogen was so deadly that some deaths would have been unavoidable during the time needed to establish the disease as an identifiable problem. As it was, though, Tremaine’s delay had come dangerously close to creating an uncontrollable epidemic that even the most efficient possible drug distribution scenario might not have been able to stem.
That was a scenario Vince didn’t want to envision. He returned his attention to Tremaine’s speech.
“Lucracillin will certainly cement Denali’s position at the very top of BigPharma. No other company will be able to touch our sales and our success. All others, including the old and venerable Horton Drugs, will wither and die. We will control the entire market for drugs to combat bacterial pathogens.” He paused. “And how does it feel to be a part of that success?” He held his arms open wide and smiled broadly.
The applause became deafening.
CHAPTER 21
Dr. Lydia Erickson swept aside the privacy curtain in the ER’s staging area. A young girl about six years old lay in the bed, her face flushed with fever and already riddled with the open sores typical of MRSA-II. Her mother sat hunched in a chair next to the bed. Both mother and daughter shared the same terrified expression and looked dangerously close to outright panic.
“Doctor, can you help my little girl?” The question came out in a fragile whisper.
“Let me take a look.” Dr. Erickson donned a disposable microbe-screening mask that covered her nose and mouth, took the child’s pulse with a gloved hand, then peered more closely at the facial lesions. “I’ll need to run a culture and sensitivity to verify, but I’m nearly certain it’s MRSA-II.”
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