Gavin told Simmons about his experimental work over the vacation and what he had discovered, ending with, ‘So you see, it all makes perfect sense.’
Simmons smiled, conceding that the science had been good and the logic flawless. The pleasure he took from this did much to wipe out the other things he’d been feeling. Scientific truth had a beauty all of its own. ‘It does, and I’m sure you’re right,’ he said. ‘Congratulations, that was a first-class piece of work. In fact, it was better than that; it was bloody brilliant.’
‘Thanks, Frank,’ said Gavin. ‘It just sort of fell into place...’
‘My God, Grumman Schalk will have a fit when they hear about this. How many millions did they flush down the drain?
‘Twenty, I think.’
‘And that was twenty years ago...’
Simmons looked thoughtful for a moment, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with his pen before saying, ‘I think you should write this up immediately and chalk up your first publication. My inclination would be to submit to Antibiotic and Chemotherapy but we can have a think about that. In the meantime, as you’ve now shown that knocking out the S16 gene is not lethal, there’s nothing to stop you reverting to our original plan and working on Valdevan-treated cells. All you have to do is keep the growth rate slow.’
Gavin adopted a slight grimace. ‘Actually,’ he began hesitantly. ‘I was wondering if you might give me a bit more time to work on Valdevan treatment of tumours?’
‘But you’ve just shown why it didn’t work and never could,’ exclaimed Simmons. ‘Game set and match to you. What’s left to do?’
‘I think there may be some more mileage in it. I’m not sure but I’d really like to do a few more experiments.’
Simmons was doubtful. ‘What did you have in mind?’
Gavin, who had not yet formulated a definite plan of action, shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I’m not quite sure yet... We know that the faster cells grow, the more unstable they become in the presence of Valdevan, and we know that tumour cells grow faster in the body than normal cells, so...’
‘There’s no way on earth you’re going to make tumour cells grow as fast in the body as they do in the lab,’ interrupted Simmons.
‘No, of course not, I accept that — but there just might be some other way to exploit the difference.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know yet... I need to get a feel for it.’
Simmons felt sceptical but then said, ‘I was about to lecture you again about heading up blind alleys, but that’s what I thought last time and I was wrong.’ He paused for a moment to assess Gavin’s likely disappointed reaction if he turned him down, before saying, ‘Look, I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll agree to give a seminar to the department about your work, I’ll give you three weeks to chase rainbows. Deal?
‘Deal.’
Gavin was talking to Mary Hollis when Simmons returned from lunch. He glanced in Gavin’s direction and said, ‘I told Jack, Thursday at 1 p.m. if that’s all right?’
Gavin nodded.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Mary.
‘I’m giving a seminar, on Thursday apparently.’
‘You? A seminar? Now I’ve heard it all. Is this something to do with a new you or does Frank have some dodgy negatives?’
‘Neither. One forty-minute seminar gets me three more precious weeks to work on Valdevan.’
‘But you’ve just told me why it can never work. What are you going to do?’
‘Make it work.’
Mary’s jaw fell open as she saw Gavin was serious. ‘Ye gods, Gavin. You’re nothing if not ambitious. Can I ask how, or is that a secret?’
‘I haven’t worked that out yet,’ said Gavin, holding up and examining the plastic bottle he’d just removed from the fridge door. ‘In fact, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I’m going to need more Valdevan. I wonder if Frank would ask his contact. It would be quicker than writing.’
Gavin turned away and left Mary looking after him with an amused smile while he went to make his request to Simmons, who said that he’d actually been intending to call Grumman Schalk anyway. There were things he needed to ask about their new research grants scheme. He’d do it before lunch.
Gavin went on down to the tissue culture suite to wish the staff a happy new year and put in an order for more cell cultures.
‘Did you use all the ones I made for you just before the break?’ asked Trish.
‘Every last one,’ said Gavin, ‘And like I said, I’ll love you forever.’
‘And a day,’ Trish reminded him.
‘And a fortnight if you like. I got some really good results and you’ll be top of the acknowledgement list when the paper gets written.’
‘Always nice to be appreciated,’ said Trish, her cheeks colouring slightly. ‘I’ll give you a call when your cultures are ready. I take it you need both tumour and primary cells?’
‘That would be great.’
Frank Simmons’ intended phone call to Grumman Schalk had been precipitated by an internal mail message from Graham Sutcliffe to all academic staff, announcing a meeting on Tuesday to discuss their application for a block grant. Sutcliffe had formulated a draft over the break, but said he wanted to discuss it with his colleagues and add the finishing touches to it before sending it off. Time was of the essence, he stressed. Simmons took this to mean that any discussion would not be lengthy: Sutcliffe was looking for a rubber stamp. He thought that he might have more success in finding out about the conditions attached to such grants by asking Max Ehrman directly about company policy.
Simmons paused as he lifted the phone and wondered for a moment how much he should tell Ehrman about Gavin’s discovery. There was a need for tact and diplomacy over it. He didn’t know if Ehrman had had any personal involvement in the Valdevan project — probably not, but he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t feel some embarrassment, and maybe even a little resentment towards a first-year postgrad student who had succeeded where his company and all its resources had failed. He decided he’d have to play it by ear.
Max Ehrman was his usual helpful self, and proved only too happy to fill Simmons in on the conditions attached to his company’s new research grants scheme. As Simmons had suspected, the company would insist on the final say in whether or not results could be published. Simmons’ silence when Ehrman told him this prompted Ehrman to add, ‘This hasn’t proved to be too much of a problem in the past, Frank.’
‘I suppose it’s more potential problems I’m worried about.’
‘Well, there has to be some degree of symbiosis in all this,’ said Ehrman. ‘We’re not philanthropists and don’t pretend to be: we’re in the business to make money. On the other hand, we’re not monsters either. New discoveries can bring glory to researchers, relief to sufferers and profits to drug companies. Everybody wins.’
‘In a perfect world,’ said Simmons.
‘You worry too much, Frank,’ said Ehrman. ‘The chances are that such a conflict will never arise, and if it should, it would be resolved without bad blood.’
‘Mmm.’
‘How is your student getting along, the one who asked us for Valdevan?’
Simmons’ pulse rate rose a little and he felt his mouth go dry. ‘Fine, very well in fact. As we thought, it seems clear that the drug does target the S16 gene. Actually, I was just about to ask you for some more of the drug if that’s possible? Gavin mentioned this morning that he’s running low.’
‘Of course it is,’ laughed Ehrman. ‘We’re renowned for our generosity here at Grumman Schalk. By the way, I’m going to be coming to Edinburgh shortly. I’m attending the conference at Heriot Watt University at the beginning of February, and I’m also taking part in some TV programme that your BBC are doing. They’ve asked me to say something about the company’s range of anti-cancer drugs. No doubt we will be cast in the role of big bad profit-maker, but we’re used to that. I’ll do my best to convince them otherwise. Maybe we could meet up at some point and I could talk to your student?’