Dr. Alonso was in the corporate conference room, holding the laser pointer with which she indicated different points on the presentation projected onto the main screen. She had taken off her lab coat before entering, when Diego noticed a greenish stain on the otherwise impeccable white and pointed it out, prompting a curse in Spanish that Leon didn't fully understand. Then the doctor stripped it off and tossed it at the Spaniard so he could act as a coat rack; a role that didn't last long, since he dropped it onto a chair as soon as she made her way to the podium and forgot about it altogether. Leon didn't… he took a moment to check the pockets of the lab coat with the intention of comparing Alonso's access card for levels 3 and 4 of the facility with his own, but he had no luck, so he set it aside as well.
They were now inside a packed room. Leon didn't know exactly who they were, but he counted fifty-three attentive listeners following every word the doctor spoke, some of them even jotting down notes in their notebooks. She was wearing a dark wine-colored dress, almost black under the artificial lighting, long-sleeved, with a discreet neckline and a fitted cut down to the knees, with no concession to comfort. The fabric struck him as the kind that doesn't wrinkle, designed to endure long workdays without betraying wear. For some reason, Leon knew the choice couldn't be accidental; while it was true he didn't know the woman deeply, something led him to conclude that Alonso likely chose this kind of attire as a baseline in her wardrobe. She completed the look with classic high heels in the same tone. Nothing flashy, nothing superfluous. She wasn't trying to draw attention with her appearance, but with her work.
And she succeeded.
The woman spoke with such confidence and enthusiasm that she held the audience's attention effortlessly. And she explained the scientific data with such clarity that everyone understood it. He did too, despite the conference being in Spanish—and whenever something slipped past him, he asked Diego to explain it.
- I told you she was difficult… - his colleague murmured in English.
Leon didn't look at him, but he smiled faintly.
- I've faced enemies even death couldn't stop. - he replied with irony. - I'll manage her.
Diego let out a brief laugh.
- But she's brilliant too… - he insisted, leaning slightly toward him. - You see it now, don't you?
What Leon saw was something else… Diego was captivated by the doctor. He didn't know exactly why… but the respect was evident, and it was equally undeniable that Alonso seemed proud of what she was doing in this place.
By now, the doctor had already shared the results of the first phase of her drug's development, whose outcomes had been highly promising in the small number of volunteers who had participated in the study two years earlier. Then she went into detail about phase two, mentioning the large number of insomniacs involved and, once again, the alarmingly promising results regarding the use of this new drug. At that moment, she had just finished presenting the conditions of the controlled clinical trial in phase three.
Off to the side, next to the laptop, a tall young man with symmetrical, pleasant features advanced the slides at exactly the right moment. She gave him no cues, not even with a glance; he seemed to know by heart what to do and when. It was obvious they worked together.
- From what I've gathered these past few days - Diego whispered beside him, leaning in once more - it seems Alonso's research results were so promising, and her drug has shown such a clear and significant benefit for insomnia, that it's been determined it would be unethical to continue with the control group.
Leon looked at him, waiting for a clearer explanation.
- You see, - Diego leaned closer to speak near his ear without disturbing the others. They were about the same height, though his colleague was slimmer - there are situations where, for ethical reasons, you can't deny an effective treatment to the population just to complete a protocol.
Was he understanding this correctly? Diego was telling him that the preliminary findings in human trials with this drug had been so good that they had decided to cut the study short and move directly to market…
His worst nightmares could start that way.
- Two years is a very short time for any research involving humans, - his colleague continued explaining - however, there have been exceptions like this before.
- I see… could you name one?
- Yes, I looked into it. - Diego murmured. - It happened in antihypertensive trials, and even with AZT for HIV back in the '80s. Also with some oncology drugs.
He paused, both of them turning their attention forward for a moment, but then, almost simultaneously, they returned to the topic.
- Last month, - he continued, - an interim analysis was conducted to initiate phase three of the trial, where a statistically significant benefit and clear superiority of the drug against insomnia were detected. Based on these findings, an independent monitoring committee was consulted, and they proposed stopping the trial for benefit. - Leon nodded, somewhat uneasy at the idea and its inevitable connection to the reason for his presence there. - That recommendation was sent to the Spanish Agency of Medicines and Medical Devices, which will be present this November 19th to evaluate and formally authorize the interruption.
- In other words, - he tried to confirm - they're going to release the drug to the market without completing phase three of human trials, right?
Diego nodded.
Leon felt the muscles in his body tense. If anything from the situation in Iraq was connected to this study… he would be in serious trouble. He had only six days to determine whether there was a real biological risk.
But there was a problem… his subject of investigation…
…he shifted his gaze to Dr. Alonso. She didn't seem willing to make his job easy.
- According to a survey conducted in Great Britain, sleep is considered more important to happiness than the amount of money one can earn. - Dr. Alonso was saying. - However, many people struggle to fall asleep—or worse, to stay asleep without interruptions.
She continued explaining details with such command that it only took a moment of watching her to become engaged. If she was an unscrupulous researcher, she knew how to hide it well—and make it pass for passion.
Alonso's voice continued:
- So it's no surprise that many people choose a quick solution to fall asleep. - The young man at the laptop pressed a key and the image on the screen changed. The doctor stepped forward confidently and marked several concepts.
- The promise of sleeping pills is tempting, but we must ask ourselves a few questions. - She walked across the stage, now deliberately drawing attention to herself. - Are they safe? Do they work in the long term? And most importantly—are there alternatives?
Leon noticed when the doctor fixed her gaze on one of the attendees, positioned at the most strategic point in the room. A man in his fifties, wearing a suit that, even under the dim lighting, made it clear it was top-tier. He didn't flinch when she looked at him, and Leon wondered what history lay behind that defiant exchange.
- Who's that? - he whispered to Diego.
- The CEO.
Oh… hello, Julien Carpentier.
Leon allowed himself a moment to memorize that face, and as he did, he noticed that Dr. Alonso shifted again and redirected the audience's attention to the screen. He followed—he had already memorized the man.
- According to the CDC, - she continued - more than a third of the U.S. population reports not getting consistent and sufficient sleep.
He was one of them…
- And that's a problem, because chronic insufficient sleep increases the risk of obesity, hypertension, and cardiovascular disease. We all know that. - She paused. - That's why it's no surprise that the temptation of pharmacological sleep aids is so widely embraced. In the United States, millions of people regularly take sleeping pills. Globally, this is a multi-billion-dollar industry.
- And we intend to keep it that way… - the CEO interrupted, and the room laughed.
How amusing.
The doctor forced a smile, but there was something in her body language—something that told him she was not comfortable with that man…
- But it comes with side effects that must be considered. - she added.
The young researcher changed the slide again.
- If the goal of sleep is to restore us for the next day, it makes no sense to take something that leaves us dizzy, drowsy, and dependent. Right? - Many nodded. - That's precisely why, at Alcántara Pharma, we have sought an appropriate and effective alternative. - She paused. - A pharmacological alternative that I have been developing for the past two years.
Another slide change.
- To understand it, I need you to think of something simple. - She walked toward the screen and stood before it, once again commanding all attention.
- The human brain has an internal clock. And that clock doesn't just measure time—it measures fatigue.
Now she seemed to be addressing the group of executives in front of her. The others, those in white lab coats, were no longer the audience she cared about.
- The longer we remain awake, the more what we call 'sleep pressure' accumulates. At a certain point, that pressure exceeds a threshold… and the brain gives in. That's what normally happens at the end of the day and allows us to fall asleep naturally.
The executives nodded.
- In people with chronic insomnia, - she continued - that threshold is dysregulated. The pressure still builds, and the body feels exhausted, but the thalamic switch doesn't function properly—so the brain doesn't yield. Sleep cannot be initiated, and restorative sleep cannot be achieved.
- Bless benzodiazepines, right, Doctor? - Carpentier said.
Alonso forced another smile and shifted her gaze back to the screen. Leon saw her rest her palm briefly against her abdomen before removing it. Then she resumed.
- This malfunctioning switch in chronic insomnia patients is located in the thalamus. - she said. - And in the thalamus, there is a protein. A protein we all know—the well-known cellular prion protein. In its normal conformation, it acts as a modulator of the signals that tell the thalamus when it is time to sleep. When it functions properly, it facilitates the brain's response to its own fatigue signals. When it does not, the threshold rises, and insomnia appears and persists.
The slide changed again, showing what, to Leon, looked like a protein structure.
- Thanks to the research I've been conducting over the past two years, - Alonso continued - we have identified a cofactor—a small molecule—that selectively binds to the cellular prion protein in those specific thalamic neurons, stabilizing its functional conformation and increasing its availability exactly where it is needed. The result is that the sleep activation threshold returns to normal physiological levels. The brain receives its own fatigue signals and responds to them properly. - She paused. - In other words, sleep arrives when it is supposed to.
Leon turned to Diego and asked him to translate a few terms. The Spaniard did, and then he understood: Alonso had discovered a molecular cofactor that interacted with the cellular prion protein at the level of the thalamus, stabilizing proper brain function and allowing insomniac patients to fall asleep like anyone else. Apparently, that cofactor was what she had isolated and turned into her flagship drug.
- And unlike benzodiazepines, - the doctor continued - which externally enhance GABA receptors and suppress REM sleep, my drug does not target those receptors. It facilitates an endogenous process using a protein the body already has. There is no receptor adaptation. No dependency. No REM suppression. And that… is innovation.
The young researcher advanced the slide again.
- In fact, - Alonso pointed to a table filled with numbers and statistical calculations - the data we are presenting today show preservation of REM sleep in ninety-two percent of cases. With three to four complete REM cycles per night in each subject. Which translates into truly restorative sleep.
She stepped forward again, facing the audience.
- A person who sleeps well, with three to four REM cycles per night, strengthens their immune system, accelerates healing processes, consolidates memory… - she paused. - For the first time since the invention of artificial light, we will be able to approximate natural sleep and help not only lifestyles, but also patients and those hospitalized. - She inhaled. - A post-surgical patient who sleeps well heals faster. An oncology patient who truly rests responds better to treatment. A patient with chronic pain who achieves deep sleep requires less analgesia the following day. With this drug, that would be possible… with a half-life of eight hours.
The CEO crossed one leg, clasped his hands, and smiled, clearly pleased with what he was hearing.
- It is for all these reasons, - Alonso continued - that the interruption of phase three of the trial has been proposed due to the clear benefit we have demonstrated.
There was enthusiastic applause.
- Therefore, next Thursday, the Spanish Agency of Medicines and Medical Devices and the Ethics Committee for Research with Medicines will review these results and determine whether such interruption is feasible.
- This November 19th, ladies and gentlemen… - Carpentier stood up. - We will make history.
The researchers began to applaud, there was laughter, words, and recognition exchanged among colleagues for a few minutes. However, from a corner of the room, a gray-haired woman, also with her hair tied back and wearing a white lab coat, raised her hand, asking to speak. No one paid attention—only Alonso seemed to notice.
The doctor thanked the applause and, without losing the smile on her face, raised her voice.
- Please, Dr. Ledesma has requested the floor.
The audience turned in her direction, and gradually, the murmurs died down.
- Dr. Alonso... - the woman said. - I am extremely proud of what you are achieving with your research, and I would first like to congratulate you.
Alonso nodded, pleased, a smile on her lips.
- However, I have a question.
- Go ahead.
- You mentioned that the cofactor interacts with the cellular prion protein. - she said. - In the research subjects, has beta-sheet folding been detected?
Leon didn't understand a word—but he did recognize the sudden change in Alonso's expression. Her brows lifted slightly, her posture stiffened. The young man at the laptop shifted in his seat and advanced the slide too early.
That woman had touched something sensitive.
- Of course not, Dr. Ledesma. - Alonso replied, with impeccable control that came seconds after the initial physical reaction she had let slip. - None of the clinical trial subjects has been infected by prions. The alpha conformation remains stable. No changes associated with the drug have been observed.
The woman nodded and took notes.
Leon looked back at Alonso, noticed the shadow of concern in her gaze, and knew there was something there worth investigating. He needed to find out what that last point meant.