Madrid, capital of Spain, Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Alright. It was about time to get over her fear of choking.
After so many years, it was stupid to keep reacting that way every time the nightmares came back. Lucrecia Alonso knew it—and even so, she could almost hate herself for feeling like this.
Javier, her Krav Maga self-defense instructor, had warned her that it was time to start practicing chokehold defenses; otherwise, she wouldn't advance to the next level as a civilian practitioner.
- Well… if I don't have a choice, we'll do it tomorrow. - she said with a smile, forcing herself to bury (a little deeper) the fears of her past as she unwrapped the bandages from her hands with feigned indifference.
She looked up without losing that half-bravado smile and decided to play it off to regain lost ground.
- After all… don't they say choking is sexy in bed?
Javier let out a dry laugh as he put away the training equipment.
It was seven in the morning, and Madrid had yet to come alive at that hour. She paid her trainer a good amount of money to have him awake by five, and they trained almost daily, whenever her work allowed it. She knew that soon she would lose that possibility.
- I think the 'pleasure' has more to do with the lack of oxygen to the brain. - he replied. - You stop thinking up here… and move better down there.
- Have you tried it? - she teased.
- Yes. And I recommend it.
Lucrecia finished removing the wraps and walked over to her bag. She put them away and grabbed a small towel to wipe off the sweat.
In the background, Marilyn Manson's voice echoed faintly:
"Are you motherfuckers ready for this new shit? Stand up and admit tomorrow's never coming…"
She liked the guy—his music in general, his lyrics. He struck her as an artist with something to say, and that was always interesting. Though it was also true that she somewhat missed Latin American rhythms or Argentine rock, where she was from. People in Spain didn't really listen to it, and even though she had lived in Madrid for over fifteen years, she had never managed to detach herself from those sounds.
It was her way of honoring those who were no longer there.
Do we get it? NO!
Do we want it? YEAH!
Lucrecia smiled.
‹‹Exactly that, Brian… what we don't understand… is precisely what we desire the most…››
At eight in the morning, the imposing Alcántara Pharma building welcomed her as it did every day. The sky was clear, a deep blue, and the sun shone steadily. A cool breeze brushed her face, drawing a faint smile from her. Her bun, perfectly secured, kept every strand in place.
Employees moved through the facility—some in a rush, others chatting calmly. All of them carried that refreshed air left by a good night's sleep.
Sleep…
She had always found it curious that the only ones who seemed to resist it were children. They always had something better to do—ride a bike, play, watch TV… live. Until they discovered dreams. Then something changed. Children and adults alike, anywhere in the world, had at some point been drawn into those strange, vivid, captivating scenes… where the mind let go while the body rested.
But that was not her case. Not for… well, for quite a number of years now. Dreams took her somewhere else—to her worst nightmares.
That was why she avoided sleeping whenever she could, and over time, wakefulness had ceased to be a strategy… and had become her way of life.
Lucrecia Alonso—ironically—was a thirty-year-old virologist and specialist in sleep physiology and pathophysiology, head of the sleep disorders research department at Alcántara Pharma… who did not sleep.
And that was her little secret:
While she helped others sleep… she chose not to.
Suddenly, a sensation as hard as metal seemed to pierce her back as a jolt shook her. Lucrecia almost executed one of her defensive techniques, but forced herself to be rational and admit that nothing bad could happen inside the facility. Security here was absurdly excessive.
Feeling her heart pounding faster than was healthy, she turned on her heels and realized she was clenching her teeth so tightly she feared they might crack. She was trembling. Yes—by merciful God and the Holy Virgin—she was trembling like an idiot, and she was certain no one had actually hit her. She had simply exaggerated the perception of the stimulus.
‹‹Don't let anyone notice how nervous you get…››
- I got here early today too. - she heard a cheerful voice say as a wide smile spread across the young man in front of her.
Esteban was one of the most promising junior researchers in her department. Twenty-five years old, enthusiastic, intelligent, articulate, and always eager to learn. But he had one problem… he was a heavy sleeper. Waking up early was a struggle for him, and more than once he had nearly been late. And Lucrecia—she had to admit—had a certain soft spot for him…
More than once she had caught herself delaying the start of class just to give him time to arrive. She wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was his age, close to what her brother's should have been… or that uncomfortable resemblance... brown hair, easy smile… and that bright spark that had once belonged to Matías.
The truth was, he had earned her affection from the very first week.
Of course, she hid it perfectly. The other researchers wouldn't have considered it fair.
Still, in recent days—strangely enough—he had been the first to arrive at every session. And today was no exception.
- Congratulations. - she smiled, masking her reaction and noting with relief that her body had already regained control automatically. - First again. How do you do it?
- I have my secrets. - he joked, moving ahead with ease.
Lucrecia smiled and followed.
They walked together into the building. The security guard at the entrance greeted her with a brief gesture, and she responded in kind without stopping. She didn't pay them much attention—they rotated so often that it was impossible to remember their faces or names. Nor did she care.
Lucrecia swiped her access card, thinking that if anything kept her safe, it was technology. The reinforced doors installed the previous year, for instance. The surveillance systems.
The guards… not so much. She knew how they worked. And in most cases, they did so poorly.
Esteban and she stepped inside, and Lucrecia pressed the elevator button.
- How's the presentation coming? - she asked without looking at him.
- Making progress. - he replied with that ease that sometimes irritated her and sometimes—despite herself—felt refreshing. - I have the cohort three data almost ready. Sleep latency results are consistent with the previous ones. If anything, better.
- How much better?
- A sixteen percent reduction in time to fall asleep compared to the control group. With fewer residual effects upon waking than any benzodiazepine currently on the market.
Esteban smiled with quiet confidence.
Lucrecia processed the number in silence as they waited.
- Did you cross that with sleep quality data?
- REM phase preserved in ninety-two percent of cases.
The elevator doors opened. They stepped inside.
- Good. - she said.
What he had just told her was reassuring. They were truly about to make a difference in the field of sleep. This wasn't just another "new" pill that was really just a variation of existing drugs. What they were achieving was genuinely innovative—the kind of innovation that changed both the market and people's quality of sleep.
She had found a way to modulate the sleep activation threshold—essentially, the point at which the brain decides wakefulness is enough and yields to sleep—achieving a more natural, more effective rest with less dependence than current sleep inducers.
- I need your section ready for review this afternoon, Esteban. No exceptions.
- The presentation is on the nineteenth, right?
- Yes. And I don't intend to reach the nineteenth with surprises. - she said, glancing at him. - Any problem with this afternoon?
- None. - he smiled, a little cocky. The boy was a prodigy—and he knew it by heart.
- Good. - Lucrecia repeated, without smiling. - This isn't an academic presentation. That room will have executives, investors… possibly someone from the EMA worth impressing. But more importantly, the Spanish Agency for Medicines and Medical Devices.
- I know. It'll be a decisive day for our research.
She nodded.
- That's why we'll speak with our data, not our words. The numbers have to convince—not us.
- Understood. - he said, nodding. Then, with that spark in his green eyes, he added. - Though sometimes words help. Especially when it comes to boosting stock prices.
- Sometimes. - she conceded. - But I prefer the data to speak for my work. - She paused as the hum of the elevator filled the silence. - This afternoon, Esteban. At five.
He nodded.
The elevator doors opened on their floor. Lucrecia stepped out first.
- And get some sleep this week. You don't need to wake up early every day. - she added without turning.
- I'm not sleepy anymore.
Lucrecia stopped—and this time, she looked at him with curiosity.
- And why is that?
He shrugged casually.
- I have a secret that keeps me awake every day.
She couldn't help but smile. It was about time that boy got himself a girlfriend.
She felt a quiet pride watching him become, step by step, a great researcher. She didn't say it—just nodded and headed toward her office.