Joseph logged the latest entry into his computer. So far he had catalogued nineteen varieties of chemicals taken from the underground chamber. He examined a slide from each one in his microscope-careful not to touch any with his bare hands-ecstatic whistles turning to stunned silence.
The results were unbelievable. The compounds in these formulas were unlike anything he had ever seen before. The molecular structures didn't correspond to any known substances. He couldn't be certain without better equipment, but he didn't think some of the elements in these compounds could be found on the Periodic Table.
With each substance he catalogued he included a hypothesis of the chemical's effect on the body. Each one stimulated different areas of the brain, he surmised. The one he had ingested in the cave must have stimulated the visual and learning areas, although he couldn't be certain because he had not found another jar of it. Others affected creativity or pleasure centers. Still others affected the level of hormones secreted within the brain.
He considered what to do with the potions. The obvious solution would be to turn them over to a real laboratory for more in-depth analysis and study. Perhaps these chemicals could restore movement to crippled limbs or combat Alzheimer's.
But then if he turned them over to someone else, those people would get the credit and not him for the greatest discoveries in medical history. He might get a brief mention in someone's acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize, behind the scientist's mother or Jesus Christ if he was lucky. No, the fame, fortune, and glory extending from those discoveries belonged to him. He would be the only one to make acceptance speeches for the Nobel Prize.
He went to the door, stopping before he turned the knob, the memory of last night coming to him. Samantha Young might still be in the house. He didn't want to see her again and risk further humiliation. He turned back to the jars lined up on the table. None of the chemicals on the table could make her fall in love with a geek like him. Unless-
Of course! Why hadn't he seen it earlier? If these compounds could alter hormonal levels and affect parts of the brain, perhaps they could transform him from a geek into a stud. No single potion he'd found would do the trick, but if he found a way to separate the elements of each potion and then combine them he might be able to concoct what he needed.
One look at her last night had told him she was the woman for him. Her exotic beauty compared to the other girls in Seabrooke was like an orchid in a field of dandelions. Everything from the homemade clothes to the way she cut her hair to the lack of makeup indicated this was a girl who didn't care about fashion trends or what other chattering hens at school might think of her. She was a strong, independent woman. He had to have her.