“Kinda ugly little things,” Eleanor said. “They could almost be mouse droppings.”
“I like to think they look more like seeds in rye bread,” Edward said. “It’s a more historically significant metaphor.”
“Are you ready to get to work?” Eleanor asked.
“Let’s do it,” Edward said.
Before noon Edward and Eleanor had succeeded in producing a tiny amount of each alkaloid. The samples were in the bases of small, conical-shaped test tubes labeled A, B, and C. Outwardly the alkaloids appeared identical. They were all a white powder.
“What’s the next step?” Eleanor asked as she held up one of the test tubes to the light.
“We have to find out which are psychoactive,” Edward said. “Once we find out which ones are, we’ll concentrate on them.”
“What should we use for a test?” Eleanor asked. “I suppose we could use Aplasia fasciata ganglia preparations. They would certainly tell us which ones are neuroactive.”
Edward shook his head. “It’s not good enough,” he said. “I want to know which ones cause hallucinogenic reactions, and I want quick answers. For that we need a human cerebrum.”
“We can’t use paid volunteers!” Eleanor said with consternation. “That would be flagrantly unethical.”
“You are right,” Edward said. “But I have no intention of using paid volunteers. I think you and I will do fine.”
“I’m not sure I want to be involved in this,” Eleanor said dubiously. She was beginning to get the drift of Edward’s intentions.
“Excuse me!” called another voice. Edward and Eleanor turned to see Cindy, one of the departmental secretaries. “I hate to interrupt, Dr. Armstrong, but a Dr. Stanton Lewis is in the office, and he’d like a word with you.”
“Tell him I’m busy,” Edward said. But as soon as Cindy started back toward the office, Edward called her back. “On second thought,” he said, “send him in.”
“I don’t like that twinkle in your eye,” Eleanor said as they waited for Stanton to appear.
“It’s perfectly innocent,” Edward said with a smile. “Of course if Mr. Lewis would like to become a principal investigator in this study I won’t stand in his way. Seriously, though, I do want to talk to him about what we are doing here.”
Stanton breezed into the lab with his usual glib hellos. He was particularly pleased to get Edward and Eleanor together.
“My two favorite people,” he said, “but for different parts of my brain.” He laughed at what he thought was an off-color joke. Eleanor proved to be faster than he when she said she’d not known he’d changed his sexual orientation.
“What are you talking about?” Stanton asked. He was genuinely perplexed.
“Simply that I’m confident you are attracted to me because of my intellect,” Eleanor said. “That leaves your instinctual brain for Edward.”
Edward chortled. Repartee was Stanton’s forte, and Edward had never seen him bested. Stanton laughed as well and assured Eleanor that her wit had always blinded him to any of her other charms.
Stanton then turned to Edward. “All right,” he said. “Fun and games are over. What’s the story on the Genetrix prospectus?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look at it,” Edward admitted.
“You promised,” Stanton warned. “Am I going to have to tell my cousin she’s not to see you anymore because you’re not to be trusted?”
“Who’s this cousin?” Eleanor asked, giving Edward “a gentle poke in the ribs.
Edward’s face blushed with color. Rarely did his mild stutter affect his speech in the lab, but it did at that moment. He did not want to discuss Kim. “I haven’t had time for any reading,” he told Stanton with some difficulty. “Something has come up that might particularly interest you.”
“This better be good,” Stanton teased. He slapped Edward on the back and told him he was only kidding about Kim. “I would never interfere with you two love doves. I heard from my aunt that old man Stewart surprised you two up in Salem. I hope it wasn’t flagrante delicto, you old rogue.”
Edward coughed nervously while he motioned for Stanton to pull up a chair. He then quickly changed the subject by launching into the story about the new fungus and the new alkaloids. He told Stanton that at least one of them was psychotropic, and he told him exactly how he knew. He even handed Stanton the three test tubes, saying they’d just finished isolating the new compounds.
“Quite a story,” Stanton said. He put the test tubes down on the counter. “But why did you think it might interest me in particular? I’m a practical guy. I’m not titillated by esoteric exotica which you academics thrive on.”
“I think these alkaloids could have a practical payoff,” Edward said. “We could be on the brink of finding a whole new group of psychotropic drugs which at the very least will have research applications.”
Stanton visibly straightened up in his seat. The casual air that he affected vanished. “New drugs?” he questioned. “This does sound interesting. What do you think the possibilities are they might be clinically useful?”
“I think the chances are excellent,” Edward said. “Especially considering the molecular modification techniques which are now available in modern synthetic chemistry. Also, after the psychedelic episode with the crude extract, I felt strangely energized and my mind seemed especially clear. I believe these drugs might be more than merely hallucinogenic.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Stanton exclaimed. His entrepreneurial proclivity had quickened his pulse. “This could be something huge.”
“That’s what we have been thinking,” Edward said.
“I’m talking about you seeing a major league economic reward,” Stanton said.
“Our interest is primarily what a new group of psychoactive drugs can do for science,” Edward said. “Everyone is anticipating some new breakthrough in the understanding of brain function. Who knows? This could be it. If it were to be so, we’d have to figure out a way to finance its production on a large scale. Researchers around the world would be clamoring for it.”
“That’s fine and dandy,” Stanton said. “I’m happy you have such lofty goals. But why not have both? I’m talking about you making some serious money.”
“I’m not concerned about becoming a millionaire,” Edward said. “You should know that by now.”
“Millionaire?” Stanton questioned with a derisive chortle. “If this new line of drugs is efficacious for depression or anxiety or some combination, you could be looking at a billion-dollar molecule.”
Edward started to remind Stanton that they had different value systems, but he stopped in midsentence. His face went slack. He asked Stanton if he’d said billion.
“I said billion-dollar molecule!” Stanton repeated. “I’m not exaggerating. Experience with Librium, then Valium, and now with Prozac has proved society’s insatiable appetite for clinically effective psychotropic drugs.”
Edward assumed a thousand-yard stare out across the Harvard Medical School quad. When he spoke his voice had a flat, trancelike quality. “From your point of view and experience, what would have to be done to take advantage of such a discovery?”
“Not much,” Stanton said. “All you’d have to do is form a company and patent the drug. It’s that simple. But until you do that, secrecy is paramount.”
“There’s been secrecy,” Edward said. He was still acting distracted. “It’s only been a few days that we’ve known we were dealing with something new. Eleanor and I are the only ones involved.” He didn’t mention Kim’s name for fear of the conversation reverting to her.
“I’d say the fewer people you tell the better,” Stanton said. “Also, I could just go ahead and form a company just in case things begin to look promising.”
Edward massaged his eye sockets and then his face. He took a deep breath and appeared to awaken from a trance. “I think we are jumping the gun,” he said. “Eleanor and I have a lot of work to do before we have any idea of what we might have stumbled on.”