This was, potentially, the biggest moneymaker in the entire Nervi corporate structure, more lucrative even than opiates. So far avian flu itself was following dead-end paths: The virus would pass from an infected bird to a human, but it lacked the means of human-to-human infection. The human host would either die or get well, but without infecting anyone else. Avian flu, as it was now, was still incapable of causing an epidemic, but the American CDC and the World Health Organization were greatly alarmed by certain changes in the virus. The experts were betting that the next influenza pandemic, the influenza virus against which humans had no immunity because they’d never come in contact with it before, would be an avian influenza virus-and they were holding their breaths with each successive flu season. So far, the world had been lucky.
If the virus made the necessary genetic changes that would enable it to jump from human to human, the company that could make a vaccine for that influenza would be able to name its price.
Dr. Giordano sighed. “If there are no more setbacks, the vaccine can be ready by the end of next summer. I cannot, however, guarantee there will be no more setbacks.”
The explosion in the lab last August had destroyed several years of work. Vincenzo had isolated a recombinant avian virus and painstakingly developed a means of producing a reliable vaccine. The explosion had not only destroyed the product, it had also taken out a huge amount of information. Computers, files, hard copy notes-gone. Vincenzo had started again from scratch.
The process was going faster this time, because Vincenzo knew more about what worked and what didn’t, but Rodrigo was concerned. This season’s influenza was of the ordinary variety, but what about next season? Producing a batch of vaccine took about six months, and a large quantity of it had to be ready by the end of next summer. If they missed that deadline and next season the avian virus made the genetic mutation it needed to jump from human to human, they would have missed the opportunity to make an incredible fortune. The infection would flash around the world, millions would die, but in that one season the immune systems of those who survived would adjust and that particular virus would reach the end of its brief success. The company that was ready with a vaccine when the virus mutated was the company that would reap the benefits.
They might be lucky once again, and the avian virus Wouldn’t mutate in time for the next influenza season, but Rodrigo refused to rely on luck. The mutation could happen at anytime. He was in a race with the virus, and he was determined to win.
“It’s your job to make certain there aren’t any more setbacks,” he told Vincenzo. “An opportunity such as this comes once in a lifetime. We will not miss it.” Left unsaid was that if Vincenzo couldn’t get the work done, Rodrigo would bring in someone who could. Vincenzo was an old friend, yes-of his father’s. Rodrigo wasn’t burdened by the same sentimentality. Vincenzo had done the most important work, but it was at a point where others could take over.
“Perhaps it isn’t once in a lifetime,” said Vincenzo. “What I have done with this virus, I can do again.”
“But in these particular circumstances? This is perfect. If all goes well, no one will ever know and, in fact, we’ll be praised as saviors. We’re perfectly positioned to take advantage this one time. With the WHO funding your research, no one will be amazed that we have the vaccine. But if we go to the well too many times, my friend, the water will become muddied and questions will be asked that we don’t want answered. There cannot be a pandemic every year, or even every five years, without someone becoming suspicious.”
“Things change,” Vincenzo argued. “The world’s population is living in closer contact with animals than ever before.”
“And no disease has ever been studied as thoroughly as influenza. Any variation is examined by thousands of microscopes. You’re a doctor, you know this.” Influenza was the great killer; more people had died in the 1918 pandemic than during the four-year Great Plague that had devastated Europe during the Middle Ages. The 1918 influenza had killed, it was estimated, between forty and fifty million people. Even in normal years influenza killed thousands, hundreds of thousands. Every year two hundred and fifty million doses of vaccine were produced, and that was only a fraction of what would be needed during a pandemic.
Labs in the United States, Australia, and the U.K. worked under strict regulations to produce the vaccine that targeted the virus researchers said would most likely be dominant in each influenza season. The thing about a pandemic, however, was that it was always caused by a virus that hadn’t been predicted, hadn’t been seen before, and thus the available vaccine wouldn’t be effective against it. The whole process was a giant guessing game, with millions of lives at stake. Most of the time, the researchers guessed right. But about once every thirty years or so, a virus would mutate and catch them flat-footed. It had been thirty-five years since the Hong Kong influenza pandemic of 1968-69; the next pandemic was overdue, and the clock was ticking.
Salvatore had used all his influence and contacts to win the WHO grant to develop a reliable method of vaccine production for avian influenza. The selected labs that normally produced vaccine would be focusing on the usual strains of viruses, not the avian virus, so their vaccines would be useless. Because of the grant and Vincenzo’s research, only the Nervi labs would have the know-how to produce the avian vaccine and-here was the important part-have doses ready to ship. With millions of people worldwide dropping like flies from the new strain, any effective vaccine against it would be priceless. The sky was literally the limit to how much profit could be made in a few short months.