True (2004)

by Cordy, Michael

  '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 pref
erred 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.

  'I modified it in thousands of small ways,' Bacci said, 'but they all added up to two essential improvements. First, I deepened the effect of the drug.' He pressed a key on the laptop and the screen image divided into two. On the right there was a white mouse and on the left a brown rodent. Bacci pointed to the brown rodent. 'This is a prairie vole. It is unusual because when it finds a partner and mates, it forms a pair-bond for life. Mice are promiscuous and will mate with whatever partner is available. The difference in their behaviour is due to the presence of the gene that codes for the production of the hormone oxytocin, the same bonding chemical I mentioned as a key component of true love. It's been well documented that when the oxytocin gene is inserted in mice they immediately form faithful pair-bonds, and when the gene is removed from prairie voles they become promiscuous.'

  Joachim was nodding hard. 'So you added oxytocin genes to the original drug?'

  'Yes, along with the other bonding chemicals, such as vasopressin, I added control genes to boost the expression of oxytocin in the subject's brain. And, voila, I had turned mere infatuation into something deeper, more enduring and meaningful'

  Helmut frowned. 'So it's an aphrodisiac?'

  'No, it's much more than that, Vati,' Joachim said. 'Although sexual attraction is a significant aspect of Professor Bacci's drug, he's talking about stimulating the whole being -- body and mind.'

  'Exactly,' Bacci said. 'I'm talking about true love, not just lust.'

  'What was the second major improvement you made?' Joachim asked.

  Bacci's eyes glowed with excitement. 'Now, this is what I'm most proud of. I learned how to target the drug.' He pressed another key on the laptop and a man's face appeared on screen. 'You recognize him?' Helmut did: the man was a notorious killer, convicted in the States some years ago for raping and murdering eighteen women. He had made the international news not for his crimes but because of the way in which he had been identified and captured. 'This picture isn't a photograph but a digital composite based on DNA left at the scene of one of his crimes. More specifically, it was created from the five hundred and ninety-seven genes" that specify his facial appearance - hair type and colour, bone structure, eye and skin colour, ear shape. Even his age was calculated from the lengths of the telomeres on the tips of his chromosomes. Apart from non-genetic variables like hairstyle, physical injury, surgery and lifestyle, this likeness was so recognizable that the FBI caught him within days. You must know the technology. DNA face recognition is now commonly used in many security systems. You probably use it in your bank.'

  They did indeed, Helmut reflected.

  The same information about your face, Herr Kappel, is present in the DNA of every hair follicle on your head. From just one I can isolate your facial code gene and insert it into the drug. As soon as a subject is injected with the serum containing your DNA, your facial blueprint is imprinted on to her inferotemporal cortex. She no longer falls madly in love with the first face she sees. She falls in love with you, and you alone.'

  There was silence. Helmut glanced at Joachim, and saw that he was dumbstruck - as he was. Max was frowning, yet to be convinced.

  'Brilliant,' said Joachim. 'What viral vector did you use?'

  'Just a stock RNA retrovirus engineered to pass the blood brain barrier, which protects the brain from contaminants in the blood.'

  'How do you know it works?' Max said.

  'Because I've tried it on myself. I must admit that not every iteration was a success. My first attempt at a targeted serum, NiL Forty-two, was a disaster. To test its ability across genders I inserted a randomly selected man's facial imprint into the serum, then injected myself.'

  'Didn't it work?'

  'No, it worked too well. Although I experienced no sexual desire for this man, a mechanic who serviced my car, I felt obsessively devoted to him. For forty-eight hours all the love I had for everyone else evaporated. I was so focused, so infatuated by this individual that even my love for my daughter was neutralized. I would have died for the man, probably killed for him, and when the drug left my system I was so shaken by the experience that I considered scrapping the project.' He sighed. 'But I persevered, eventually balancing the gene promoters that regulate the expression of relevant proteins so th
at love for the targeted individual didn't preclude my love for others. I tested it again, but this time I focused on women. I colleced DNA from women near where I live and made up samples of NiL Sixty-nine. A swab of saliva from a coffee cup or a single hair was all I needed. I selected women I knew I'd be seeing over the next few days -- the woman in the local fruit store, the woman next door, the woman who sat in the local park during her lunchbreak. I chose young women, old women, beautiful women and plain women. In total I conducted twelve separate experiments, and for forty-eight hours I fell desperately in love with each of them. But my feelings for my daughter were unaffected.'

  Joachim held up the vial of powder. 'So whose genetic code's in here?'

  'That was one of the last experiments, although it's gone beyond an experiment now. That vial contains the code of a woman called Maria. I liked her the moment I saw her and we became friends, but I was concerned our relationship might not mature into something more lasting. I lost my wife sixteen years ago and was worried I wouldn't experience the spark of love again. I'm not a young man and time is not on my side ... so I used the drug to make me fall in love with her.