‘You accept that more than ninety per cent of the drugs produced – drugs we produce – are only effective upon between thirty to fifty per cent of the people for whom they’re prescribed!’

‘I’ve heard the figures. I think they’re debatable.’

‘And you’ve heard of single-nucleotide polymorphisms?’

‘Genetically matching a person to the most efficacious drug? Sure I’ve heard of it.’

‘But aren’t impressed by it?’ challenged Parnell.

‘I’m waiting to be convinced.’

‘ Abacavir,’ threw back Parnell, at once.

‘OK,’ conceded the other man. ‘So, genetically it has been established that abacavir is a drug that could, potentially, be fatal to about five per cent of HIV sufferers in AIDS treatment.’

‘And brings out violent skin reaction, rashes, in those to whom it isn’t fatal?’ persisted Parnell.

‘I’ve read the findings and the stats.’

‘Scientifically accepted findings and statistics,’ insisted Parnell. ‘Like there’s general scientific acceptance that single nucleotide polymorphisms could not only test people’s vulnerability to a particular drug’s side effects but also whether or not it will work at all.’

‘You want coffee?’ the other man invited suddenly, making a vague movement to a percolator on a side table upon which several mugs, all loyally marked with the Dubette logo, were laid out in readiness.

Parnell recognized it as a gesture. ‘Coffee would be good.’

‘You know your stuff,’ said Benn, as he poured.

‘You were testing me!’ accused Parnell.

‘Wasn’t that what you were doing with me?’

‘No!’ denied Parnell. ‘I was trying to build a bridge for both of us to cross.’

‘Seems to me you’re arguing against superbug resistance?’

The awkward bastard was still testing, Parnell decided. ‘I think – and intend to prove – that pharmacogenomics could become successful enough to reduce antibiotic resistance or rejection.’