Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

For several seconds after Seven spoke, neither Dean nor Arion said anything.

Behind the glass, Amaru remained perfectly still beneath the medical lights while the monitors continued recording the same slow rhythm of life they had been watching since entering the room. Heart rate reduced. Respiration shallow but regular. Temperature slightly below normal.

Dormant.

The word had followed them from Alamina all the way to Snake Island.

Dean looked at the ventilation vents inside the enclosure.

"Can we stop it?"

Seven’s attention shifted immediately to the live data. "Not by cutting power blindly."

Arion rested one hand against the console. "Then tell us how."

Seven looked up. "You intend to open the chamber."

"Yes."

Dean glanced toward Arion.

There was no hesitation in his expression.

Seven noticed too. "Arion, I have no idea what prolonged exposure has done to him. If those pheromones are maintaining a medically induced state, removing them could produce anything from gradual consciousness to cardiovascular shock."

"We cannot leave him here."

"I did not say you should."

Arion looked through the glass again.

"This system already knows something happened. We shut down the outer pheromonal network, entered restricted areas, and accessed medical controls. If Claudia has remote monitoring, we have already created enough flags to tell her the residence is compromised."

Dean followed the logic immediately.

Their opportunity to preserve secrecy had ended the moment the illusion collapsed.

The question was no longer whether Claudia would eventually discover the intrusion.

It was whether Amaru would still be here when she reacted.

"We take him now," Dean said.

Seven exhaled slowly.

Arion continued, "Once he is outside this building, what are they going to do? Report him kidnapped?"

That almost made Dean smile.

The politics were ugly enough to protect them.

Amaru was a Draxilian prince whom Draxil officially treated as an exile on neutral territory. If either claimant publicly accused Alamina and Saha of taking him, they would have to explain why the man had been sealed inside a clandestine medical facility under years of synthetic pheromonal exposure.

And why the system surrounding him contained compounds derived from infected beasts.

Dean folded his arms.

"They would have to explain this place."

"Yes."

Seven’s expression hardened slightly. "That does give you leverage. It does not make moving him medically safe."

"Which is why you’re staying on the line," Arion said.

Seven stared at him.

Dean knew that look.

It meant Seven had several objections and had already realized none would change what was about to happen.

"Fine," he said. "Show me the environmental controls."

Arion turned the camera toward the console.

Seven guided them through three menus before they reached the internal chamber system. Unlike the broader building network, this one had no simple shutdown switch. The delivery cycle was tied directly into Amaru’s vital monitoring, with automatic concentration changes based on heart rate, pheromonal output, and several neurological measurements.

Dean stared at the screen.

"It reacts to him."

"Yes," Seven said. "Which means we taper rather than cut."

"How long?"

"Under ideal conditions? Hours."

Arion’s expression remained unchanged. "We do not have hours."

"I know."

Seven studied the numbers again.

"Reduce the active output to sixty percent."

Dean entered the command.

The system requested medical authorization.

"Duncan," Arion said into the communicator.

Nero answered instead. "He’s here."

"Does he know the medical override?"

Duncan’s voice came a second later.

"No."

Dean muttered something unkind.

Seven leaned closer to his screen. "There should be an emergency physician release."

Arion found it hidden beneath the respiratory controls.

It required no code.

Apparently someone had at least imagined a medical emergency.

Dean reduced the output.

Inside the enclosure, the ventilation changed pitch.

Everyone watched the monitors.

Amaru’s heart rate climbed by three beats.

Then stabilized.

"Wait," Seven said.

They waited.

One minute.

Two.

Nothing else changed.

"Forty percent."

Dean lowered it again.

This time Amaru’s fingers moved against the blanket.

Dean immediately leaned closer to the glass.

Arion caught the back of his shirt before he could forget distance again.

"I’m not entering."

"Good."

Seven’s eyes remained on the transmitted vitals.

"Respiration is increasing. That’s expected. Blood pressure is still stable."

"Twenty?" Dean asked.

"Twenty-five."

Dean adjusted it.

Amaru’s brow tightened.

The first real expression they had seen from him.

His head shifted faintly on the pillow, but his eyes remained closed.

Seven waited another ninety seconds.

"Stop the cycle."

Dean looked at Arion.

Arion nodded.

The ventilation inside the enclosure shut down.

Amaru’s monitors changed almost immediately, heart rate increasing into a low but normal range while his breathing deepened.

No alarms sounded.

That bothered Dean almost more than if they had.

"You can open it," Seven said. "But do not disconnect anything until I tell you what matters."

Arion activated his communicator.

"Nero."

"Finally."

"Bring Hale. We’re moving Amaru."

Duncan said something indistinct in the background.

Nero answered, "On our way."

"Hunter?"

A second channel opened.

"I’m here."

"Get the aircraft ready."

Hunter did not ask why.

"How fast?"

"Immediately."

There was the faint sound of movement on his end.

"I’ll have both jets prepared for departure to Saha. Your crew and Nero’s. I’m notifying the airport under an emergency itinerary change."

Dean looked toward Arion.

Saha made sense.

Closer than Alamina, secure enough that Claudia would not attempt anything reckless, and Dax controlled every meter between the runway and whichever medical facility they chose.

Hunter continued, "Do I inform the island administration?"

"Only that we found Amaru alive and in immediate medical danger. We’ll provide evidence once we’re airborne."

"Understood."

The channel closed.

Arion opened the glass enclosure.

The seal released with a heavy mechanical sound, and the door slid sideways.

Dean expanded his neutralizing field instinctively as the air inside mixed with the observation room.

Something hit the boundary.

Not as dense as before.

Still enough that Dean felt the pressure of the residual pheromones clinging to the enclosed space.

His field erased them.

"Stay close," he told Arion.

They entered together.

Up close, Amaru looked considerably less well than he had through the glass.

There were shadows beneath his eyes and hollows beneath his cheekbones that suggested weight lost gradually rather than through sudden illness. Small adhesive marks along his arms showed where lines had repeatedly been placed and removed. His scent glands were hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

Dean wanted to check them.

Seven directed Arion toward the monitors.

"Keep the cardiac leads. Disconnect the fixed respiratory sensor. Leave the intravenous line intact unless you can identify what is running through it."

Dean traced the tubing.

A clear bag hung behind the bed.

"No label."

"Then clamp it."

Arion did.

Footsteps approached outside.

Nero entered first, long white hair still tied behind him, black coat discarded somewhere in the security wing. Hale followed carrying a compact medical transport bag and a folded evacuation stretcher.

Nero stopped when he saw Amaru.

For once, he had no immediate comment.

Dean looked toward him.

"Still glad you escaped your meeting?"

Nero’s purple eyes moved over the glass enclosure and the medical equipment surrounding it.

"Yes."

That answer was quieter than usual.

Hale opened the stretcher beside the bed.

Seven continued giving instructions through Arion’s device while they transferred the monitoring leads to portable equipment.

Amaru moved again when Nero and Arion lifted him.

A faint sound escaped him, more breath than voice.

Dean watched his face.

His eyes did not open, but he was waking.

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