She typed the name in the Google search box, and instantly a community newspaper site came up with several hits of the same article:
MAN COMATOSE FROM JELLYFISH ATTACKA man was found washed up and unconscious on a beach on Homer’s Island. Jack Koryan of Carleton, Massachusetts, was barely alive after being stung by dozens of rare jellyfish while swimming.Koryan was taken by emergency helicopter to the Cape Cod Medical Center … .Scientists from Northeastern University and Woods Hole Institute said that Koryan had gotten caught in a large school of Solakandji jellyfish, which is only the size of a tennis ball but which has three-foot-long stinging tentacles. The highly venomous creature is a native of the waters of the Caribbean. Dr. Jason Marchi, a marine biologist from Woods Hole, said that the increased water temperature and the rise in nutrients from fertilizer runoff tend to support a rise in jellyfish populations … .Like other species of toxic jellyfish, the Solakandji tentacles have millions of stinging cells called nematocysts … .According to medical experts, there is currently no antivenom available for the Solakandji sting, which has caused deaths in Jamaica … .
She finished reading the story, then stretched out on the couch with her wine and Silky on her lap. She clicked on the television and lowered the volume just to decompress before getting ready for bed. On the news were the usual grim stories about the Iraq war and some local crime. She listened with half interest. Something was bothering her and she could not put her finger on it. Something to do with that Jack Koryan guy—something that sat under the upper layers of her mind and kept sending up little tremors.
After maybe fifteen minutes of distraction, she got up and went back to the computer and did a search for Solakandji, the species of jellyfish Nick had. Amazingly, she got over three hundred hits. And she spent the better part of the next hour clicking on different sites. Most were divided between news stories of attacks, treatment of the stings, general information about jellyfish, and a few scientific papers. Several of the technical sites had photos of a creature that looked like a translucent mushroom with four interior rings and spaghetti tendrils.
The Solakandji jellyfish (related to Irukandji jellyfish of Australia’s Great Barrier Reef) is found in warm waters of the Caribbean and southern Atlantic.
Minor envenomations cause pain, swelling, and localized numbness that often subsides within hours of onset. Serious envenomations are associated with a rapid progression of symptoms, including erythema, paralysis, respiratory arrest, cardiac failure, and death … .
Other sites offered information about how to treat stings with vinegar, news stories about how victims in the Bahamas and elsewhere suffered a rapid rise in blood pressure and a cerebral hemorrhage that led to their deaths. Her mind returned to poor Jack Koryan in a deep sleep, unfortunate victim to happenstance, his entire universe reduced to a bed and that bank of monitors and destined never to open his eyes again.
She clicked onto more technical sites intended for dedicated marine scientists and scrolled down until she came to a dead stop.
N. A. Sarkisian, Mavros, N. T., et al. Neurotoxic activity on the sensory nerves from toxin of the deadly Solakandji tropical jellyfish Chiropsalmus quadrigatus Mason. Chem Pharm Bull 17: 1086-8, 1971.
Mavros, N.T.
Nick. He had published a paper on the toxin thirty-five years ago. She read on.
The abstract described the Solakandji toxin as a novel proteolytic agent whose molecules functioned as an NMDA receptor antagonist. Furthermore, the substance was identified as a glutamate inhibitor affecting aspartate—an excitatory amino acid-transmitter in the brain, similar to glutamate.
“Glutamate inhibitor affecting aspartate.”
The words jumped out at her.
That was the same neurochemical function that Jordan Carr had described—the same neurotransmitter was linked to seizure activity and agitated behaviors of people with dementia. By inhibiting glutamate, demented patients were demonstrating better behaviors and enhanced cognitive capabilities.
My God! Jack Koryan was attacked by a jellyfish whose toxin was the chemical basis of Memorine. And Nick had helped pioneer the stuff.
2
17
“WHO THE HELL’S THIS COMMCARE WOMAN?”Gavin Moy’s eyes blazed down on Nick. He pulled a letter out of the folder. “René Ballard, Consulting Pharmacist. CommunityCare Pharmacy.” He handed the letter to Nick. “Isn’t she your friend?”
The letter was elegantly blunt, like a silver-plated bullet. “Yes, and former student,” Nick said.
“Well, your friend and former student says that medical records of some patients are missing—‘a violation of regulatory procedures,’ and she quotes the state and federal codes—blah, blah, blah—and she expects that all the records ‘complete and intact’ be returned immediately or she’s obligated to file a report with the IRB and request FDA review of our trial protocols. Jesus H. Christ!”
Nick had to repress the smile. “I believe she’s just doing her job.”
“Doing her job? She may be doing a job on friggin’ medical history.”
“Then maybe somebody should comply with her requests. Rumor has it that withholding nursing home records from consulting pharmacists is a violation of regulations.”
“Who the hell’s side you on?”
“Truth and beauty.” Nick smiled broadly.
Moy snickered. “Which is why I called you. But I must say, she has balls.”
“Because I taught her everything she knows.”
“Well, Jordan Carr says everything’s being returned, so tell her to wrap up.”
“What about the other nursing homes serving as research sites?”
“There, too. We want everything on the up-and-up.”
They were alone in Gavin Moy’s office at GEM Tech—a handsome, voluminous space with windows on two sides, one with a view of oak woodlands, the other commanding a view of the Boston skyline, shimmering in the distance.
On a table behind him were pictures of Moy’s wife, who had died five years ago. Moy had adjusted well to his widowerhood. Following her death he redirected his energy into his company, hiring the best and the brightest. And now he was consulting senior medical execs and leaders in hospitals and academic institutions to put together a Dream Team of clinicians. Likewise, his board members were major venture capitalists who would have eaten their own children to be part of GEM’s future. And who wouldn’t—since Gavin Moy might be sitting on the pharmaceutical equivalent of the Holy Graiclass="underline" a cure for Alzheimer’s disease in an ever-aging world.
On the wall behind his desk hung framed patents with his name on them—each for a variation of the same parent compound, just to keep competing labs from making look-alike compounds—the first, now faded, was dated January 10, 1976, the latest, from eight years ago, represented the final molecular structure whose trials would eventually be presented to the FDA for market approval. Trademarked Memorine, the compound not only had enormous pharmaceutical and commercial potential, if successful Gavin Moy could find himself in Stockholm, Sweden, when they passed out Nobel Prizes.
“We’re going to make an announcement at the meeting of shareholders in a few weeks, so the word will officially be out instead of leaks and speculations.”