15. Antagonism
15
Antagonism
Antagonism : In drug-drug interactions (DDI), antagonistic results occur when one drug reduces or eliminates the pharmacological effect of another drug.
OLIVER
P eering at the results of the assay on Sanjay’s screen, I let out a breath. For the first time all week, it didn’t feel like the weight of the entire lab was stuffed inside my chest. “Great results, Sanjay.”
“Thanks. I think we’re going to make it. It’ll be okay.” He rubbed at the mark his goggles had left on the sides of his nose.
Everyone had worked hard over the last few weeks. And today, the first Monday after Christmas, when most people wanted to be enjoying time off between the holidays, the lab was buzzing with activity. Maybe it had something to do with the huge 62 on the wall. Or maybe it was because Sanjay had made a breakthrough. He’d found a relationship between not one but two hormones and ovarian cancer. His success caught on, and the next day, Aanya improved it. After that, it was like atoms crystallizing into a stable lattice. Here we were, gazing at our first truly successful test. For the first time in over a year, hope fluttered in my chest.
We only needed to replicate it a thousand more times to ensure it wasn’t a fluke.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sanjay said. “We’ll run more tests. We’ll know more by the time you get back from Vegas.”
“I’m not going to Vegas,” I said. “I’m going to cancel when I get back to my desk.”
“Wait,” Sadie said. “You’re presenting your paper there. You have to go.”
“No, I don’t. This is more important.” I’d personally monitor each of the assays to ensure nothing went wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d slept in the lab. It’d be like the early days of Discovery, when it was only Simon and me and a handful of employees, surviving on pizza and coffee and the euphoria of success.
“Wait. What’s happening?” Tessa’s voice made the hairs stand up on my arm under my lab coat. When had she come in?
“Oliver says he’s not going to BMTC,” Sadie said.
She stepped to the other side of him and flicked her ponytail off the shoulder of her lab coat like it was distracting her. “What’s BMTC?”
I shrugged. “A biomedical conference. The big drugmakers go, and so do lots of hospital staff for the continuing medical education credits.”
“Oliver goes every year,” Sanjay said unhelpfully. “It’s great exposure for Discovery.”
“You’re telling me,” Tessa said, a warning in her voice, “you have the chance to speak at a conference where there are tons of potential customers for our test, to tell them about our work, to show how fucking brilliant you are, and you’re not going?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing. I’m doing the right thing by staying here and focusing on the work.” I pointed at the screen.
“That’s Sanjay’s work,” she said. “Your work is promoting this company and our products.”
“It’s all our work. Besides, we won’t have any products if we can’t successfully test them,” I growled. I didn’t add that we wouldn’t have a company either if this test failed. No one needed the added stress of knowing we could all be out of work in six months if we missed our deadline.
She faced Sanjay, who straightened under her scrutiny. “Are you going to do your work any faster if Oliver is here, breathing down your neck?”
“I wouldn’t—” I began.
“No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.” He met my stare defiantly.
Tessa tossed her ponytail. “Then you’re going to?—”
“Uh-oh,” Sadie said. She’d gone to the window. “They’re back.”
“Who’s back?” I asked.
“PETA,” she said. “Wonder how they convinced a news crew to come this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “I knew we should’ve put a sign at the front door declaring we don’t have any lab animals on premises. I’ll go talk to them.”
“That’s weird.” Sadie leaned over the cluttered desk to stare through the window. “Is that a gun safe in that truck?”
My heart skipped a beat, then set off at a sprint. And so did I. I didn’t bother to take off my lab coat as I fled the lab to bar the invaders from the building.
Footsteps followed me, but my daily running regimen kept me in the lead. Planting one hand on the frame of the security gate, I hurdled it, setting off the alarm. “Lock the doors,” I shouted to the guard as I passed, “and call the police!” I rushed through the glass front door two seconds before it closed.
I stopped when I saw the protesters. They weren’t the usual scraggly-bearded, beanie-and-Birkenstocks-wearing animal lovers. Most of them were men, and quite a few of them were gray-haired. I was thankful they’d left their rifles in their camouflage-painted pickup truck. I hoped no one had a concealed handgun.
A white man with graying red hair that looked pinkish held up a sign that read, BIG PHARMA = BIG LIES. “Wait,” I said. “They’re not PETA.”
“No.” Tessa brushed past me. “They’re conspiracy theorists.”