BOX SET of THREE TOP 10 MEDICAL THRILLERS

by Ian C. P. Irvine

  The phrase 'cellular memory' had cropped up several times, and a few references had been made to the various cases of people who had received donor organs and then

  experienced the strange phenomena of donor character adoption, but these were the old cases that had been floating around on the internet for years. Thankfully no one had yet reported or written about anything new, and there was not yet a single link to SP-X4.

  To check, he googled 'SP-X4' and it only came back with a few vague references, mostly to press releases, articles or papers that he had written and in which the name SP-X4 had been mentioned, but not explained.

  Nic was now sitting looking at the original newspaper article. It was not a detailed article, and in reading it again, he realised that people who read it and who had anything to contribute to the discussion would most likely be responding directly to the email address at the Evening News : s.morgan@theedinburgheveningnews.co.uk. The big question was what the journalist would do with all the reports or replies that he received.

  At least that would hopefully keep a lot of the discussion of new cases off the web for a while. Which would give Nic time.

  He would have to report this to his boss now. He had no choice. The Vice President of Sales and Marketing Philip Grant had made it obvious that he wanted Nic to deal with the problem, but all the research Nic had done since, had just further highlighted that a big problem was brewing that could blow up at any time. With 'S Morgan' in Scotland now beginning to investigate it all, it was probably just a matter of time before the sudden increase of cellular memory cases came out into the public consciousness, and SP-X4 was directly associated with it all.

  Philip Grant was going to love that.

  And so would the litigation lawyers and the shareholders.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  The video link to the office in New York was crystal clear. The Polycom telepresence video conferencing equipment that StemPharma had invested in really did make it seem as if Philip Grant was practically in the same room as Nic White. Thanks to the high definition video and high definition audio, Nic could see the colour drain from the Sales VP's face as he gave him a full update on the situation. And that was without even mentioning the reporter in Scotland.

  "So how many new cases have been reported in the past two weeks?" Philip demanded to know.

  "Another thirty. I personally visited twelve patients whilst I was on my vacation, just to make my own enquiries and follow up on the reports."

  "And?"

  "...And I think they were all telling the truth. None of them would have anything to gain by making up any stories. I think most of the people who report anything haven't yet become aware of any of the other 'cellular-memory' cases that are easily accessible on the internet."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "It was all in my last report. Sorry, I had assumed that you had read it... As detailed in the report I gave you last time we met, the form of the phenomena reported in the cases we are looking at are in themselves not necessarily new. The content or details may vary, but in essence they follow a similar pattern. Quite a number of such cases have been reported over the years, but with very few occurring more recently. Statistically such cases are low, and scientists have in the past tried to explain them in a number of ways, the most popular explanation of which is the 'cellular memory' theorem..."

  Nic went on to explain the theory, and then continued.

  "...What is remarkable, however, is that suddenly, with the availability of the SP-X4 treatment, such cases have become more like the norm, rather than the exception. I estimate that we will see such incidents reported in about 83% of transplant operations which involve the treatment we have developed."

  "What? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "I did. It was all documented in my last report..."

  At the other end of the link, Philip Grant got up from his desk and started to pace. As he walked around the room, the Polycom Eagle Eye camera followed him, keeping him in full view at all times.

  "Philip, there is a new development that I felt I needed to make you aware of."

  The VP of Sales stopped, turned and stared at the camera.

  "What development?"

  "One of the patients who had the treatment and has been reporting some major personality changes,... is a reporter. He made an amazing recovery. He had a double kidney transplant and his new kidneys are performing like new. Quite amazing really. Normally when we perform double kidney transplants, we expect the combined effect of both to be slightly better than one normal healthy kidney...here the results are off the charts. Each individual kidney is performing exceptionally well. Truly incredibly."

  "So what's the fucking problem then? He should be grateful to be fucking alive! Bloody hell...what do people expect nowadays...!" Philip Grant shouted, waving his hands in the air.

  "I'm sure he is grateful. Very. But he is a journalist and he has started to make enquiries to see if any other transplant patients have experienced similar effects. He's written an article for his newspaper, which went viral. People all round the world will probably be responding to his request for any other patients who have had similar experiences to contact him. I can't tell you how many he may already have, or will have...but I would expect that he'll get the feedback, do some more research, start asking more questions, and then who knows what will happen. Thankfully, so far there has not been any mention of SP-X4 in any of the online chat-rooms..."

  "What online chat-rooms...?"

  "Philip, read the report. Please...it's all in there...You need to read it! You will definitely need to make some high-level executive decisions soon. I think you might need to take some legal advice about our situation...This could get pretty messy if SP-X4 is associated with this sudden new surge of cases."

  "Nic, stop the fuck right there. Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you think I don't know what the fucking risks are? I live with those risks every second of every fucking day!"

  Nic watched in amazement as he saw Philip Grant instantly turn from white to bright red.

  Philip Grant sat down, and visibly took a long, deep breath.

  "Listen Nic, there are things you don't know just now. Things you don't need to know. And we're right in the middle of a world-wide recession. Revenues are down across the board. People are still fucking sick, but the price they pay for their medication is dropping and the competition from the Chinese drug companies is getting worse. We're maybe still the world's most favourite drug company, but customers sure as hell aren't buying our drugs as much as they used to. For the second quarter in a row, profits are down. The stock price has increased, but only because of the promise that SP-X4 offers. The market expects this to be a massive hit and that instead of just rolling it out in five states and a few countries in Europe, that we will release it worldwide in June. As promised. And on time..." Philip Grant paused and took a sip of water from a glass on the table.

  "Nic, ...we can't afford NOT to deliver. If we do the market will crucify us. Our shares will go through the floor. Someone else will try to buy us, and creditors will insist on getting paid as soon as possible, instead of being happy with the repayment terms we already have with them. Some of the large investment houses may even pull out their cash. The fact is, that if SP-X4 gives us problems, the company could fail. We're all fucked. You, me, everyone. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes, " Nick replied. He hadn't realised that things were obviously much worse for StemPharma than he had thought.

  "Listen...let me think about this. I don't know the answer yet. You may be right. Maybe we need to start making plans to cover ourselves..."

  "Philip," Nic lifted his hand at his side of the conference call, signifying that he wanted to interrupt his boss.

  "Yes...?"

  "We mustn't lose visibility of the fact that the drug treatment does exactly what we say it does. It offers a revolution in the treatment of post-operative care f
or organ transplant patients. Success rates and the life expectancies of patients have gone through the roof. It is truly amazing! It's just that, the side effects are also pretty amazing. Almost paranormal..."

  "Enough. I get your drift. Let's talk again in a week. Find out what you can about the reporter in Scotland and keep an eye on him."

  "Shall I contact him?"

  "Not for now...but I'm thinking it's not in our interest if he prints anything more...monitor the web, the social networking sites, anything, try to gauge what he's going to do next. If necessary, perhaps we will have to persuade him, or work with him to get him on our side...to stop him from taking it any further...We have got to stop him from making any connection with SP-X4. If he does..."

  "I understand."

  "Good. Get on to it. Send me anything else you think I need to know. I'll read everything. We'll talk again soon. Bye."

  Philip Grant leant forward and hit the Polycom console on his desk and the screen went dead.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  In New York, Philip Grant walked back to his office ignoring everyone he passed in the corridor, buzzed back through to his secretary and cancelled his other meetings for the rest of the day.

  He pulled down the blinds in his office, typed the password into his desk computer and clicked through to his online account with his stockbroker.

  Philip Grant was a big man. He had a big lifestyle. And big debts. Four kids, a wife, and one of the biggest houses that he had ever seen. Not that he spent much time there. He spent all his time working towards his retirement. Travelling, networking, smoozing, making deals. Keeping the credit cards working. Maintaining the lifestyle that his wife and his family expected.

  The truth was that Philip Grant worked hard and had done so for the past twenty years. Thankfully over the past few years he had finally begun to reap the rewards that his progress up the corporate ladder had merited. But the truth was that the more he earned, the more his family spent. He earned a fortune, but now they also spent a fortune.

  His life had become one great big cash flow statement.

  What kept Philip Grant going though was his share options.

  His stock account verified that he had 1,250,000 share options that would vest on the 16th May. With a current stock price valuation of $32 a share, he stood to make a sizeable fortune. Enough to retire in comfort. Enough to live the life with his family that he had always dreamt of. Enough. And more.

  The future of Philip Grant and his family was inexorably linked to the success of SP-X4.

  To Philip Grant it seemed quite clear.

  If the journalist in Scotland wrote anything more about the experiences that he and others were having, then there was a risk that SP-X4 would be dragged into it. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to make the link. And if that link was made before May 16th, the stock price would crash and Philip Grant's future would be wiped out.

  The VP was a hard man. He had made some pretty tough calls in the past, decisions that other lesser mortals would not have had the balls to make. Philip Grant had what it took to succeed in business and to ensure that his business succeeded.

  While Nic White did whatever he could to monitor the problem, Philip Grant needed to remove the problem altogether.

  It was pretty obvious what Philip Grant had to do.

  He had to stop the journalist from printing anything more.

  Pressing a button on his desk that automatically locked the door to his office, Philip Grant pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number that he had memorised many years before.

  The man at the other end answered after four rings.

  "Hi," Philip said. "Meet me in three hours. I think I have a new job for you."

  The man at the other end said 'OK', and Philip Grant hung up.

  Chapter Forty Five

  .

  .

  New Jersey

  April 26th

  .

  .

  Grace clicked on the link that her friend Maude had just sent her: "Check this out, Grace! Tell them your story!"

  A newspaper article opened up on her iPad and for a few minutes she digested the content, rereading it twice.

  .

  "Kidney Transplant Gives Man A New Lease Of Life Without Fear"

  .

  Earlier this year, after months on a waiting list, a young man in Scotland was given a double kidney transplant. With the help of the staff at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, the patient has made an incredible recovery. He is yet another example of the gift that organ donation can make to the lives of those who are fortunate enough to find a matching donor.

  What makes this particular Scotsman (-let's call him 'Douglas'-)even more remarkable is that upon recovering from the operation, he discovered that the acrophobia (fear of heights) that had limited his lifestyle for many years, had now vanished. In fact, since the operation, Douglas has discovered a love for mountains, and an incredible 'natural' ability to climb. In addition, a previous dislike of spicy food has been replaced by a taste for spicy sausages and hot curries.

  Overjoyed with his new lease of life, Douglas has approached the Evening News to highlight the transformational effect that organ donation can have on people's lives, and wishes to express his thanks to the 'fantastic team up at the Royal Infirmary.'

  He is also interested in learning from any other people in Scotland, (or the world), who may have had an organ transplant (kidney, heart, liver, lung, cornea) within the past two years, and who may have subsequently experienced any unexplained personality changes or discovered new talents or gifts that they previously did not know they had!

  To contact Douglas, please email us here at the Evening News at the address below."

  .

  Underneath an email address was highlighted in blue, inviting Grace to click on the link and make contact.

  She stared at the link.

  Wow! There were others. She was not the only one.

  She hurried to the kitchen, got herself a glass of hot herbal tea, and sat down at the table, making herself comfortable.

  .

  "Hi Douglas,

  My name is Grace. I live in the US in New Jersey, and last year I received a heart transplant after a long illness. To say that it saved my life would be an understatement. It would be better to describe it as transforming my life. My life is so much better now than it was before. I used to be very shy, have little interest in anything, and had absolutely no musical ability whatsoever. Now I go barn dancing once a week, sing in the local choir, and I am learning to play the piano. I now love meeting new people, and I have spoken publicly about my operation on stage at a medical conference in front of hundreds of people! My relatives can't believe I am the same person.

  Not only do I feel different, I know I am different. It's hard to explain, ...perhaps no one will understand...but I firmly believe that the person I now am is an improved version of the old me, enhanced and made better by the person who gave me this heart. I can feel a warmth inside me that I 'feel' belongs to someone else. It's strange, difficult to describe.

  I used to feel lonely. I don't anymore.

  Last month someone who read about my story in the local newspaper wrote to me. I met her. She explained that her sister had died the day I got my heart transplant and she had donated her organs in the local hospital...my local hospital. She was a music teacher in a school. She taught piano and led the school choir. And she loved to dance.

  In fact, it turns out that I am now driving over an hour each way going to the same dancing club that her sister used to attend. I even know some of her old friends now.

  Sometimes I think I feel the 'presence' of someone else, but my thoughts are all still my own. I am still me and I don't hear voices in my head, or anything like that.

  I love the new me, and I am so, so happy.

  Please be aware that you are not alone. There are others like you.

  When I received m
y new heart, I believe that part of the donor came to live in my body. She is now my friend, and I am grateful to her, every single day of my new life.

  If you want to talk, please contact me at this address."

  Grace read the email a few times, smiled, and hit the "send" button.

  .

  In the three weeks following the publication of the newspaper article in the Evening News, she was one of just over six hundred and fifty people who contacted Douglas!

  .

  Each of them had an amazing story to tell.

  Chapter Forty Six

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  .

  Lochend

  Edinburgh

  3 a.m.

  April 27th

  .

  .

  Peter sipped his coffee and touch-typed the memory of his latest dream into his laptop. In the past three days the visions and dreams had returned.

  He now saw things frequently, not only when asleep, but also when walking around or doing other things. When awake, the visions would only last a second or two, and then they would be gone. Often he would be prewarned that one was coming by a shiver as his body shook gently from head to toe, and he had learned to recognise these as an indication of something to come. He would immediately reach for his notebook in his pocket and get ready to make notes. Copious notes. Detailed notes. And often accompanied by sketches of what he had seen.

  The visions no longer scared him. He knew and accepted them for what they were,- they were pictures of experiences that did not belong to him and belonged to the past and to another person: but he knew that by understanding them, recording them, examining them, he would be given an incredible opportunity to track down the activities of a serial killer, and even to see through the eyes of a killer as he murdered his victims.

  He was perhaps the first person in the world to experience something like this, and he knew that as a reporter he was uniquely placed with the skill set and motivation to investigate what he saw.