Arata crouched beside the girl and pressed two fingers to her neck, counting. There was a pulse—faint—but there. Eyes closed. Skin pale. Without a word, Arata slid her arms beneath the girl’s frail, limp body, lifted her and turned.

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  The mother followed, hesitant but close, until the guard stepped in front of her. Arata turned her head to the guard, “For God’s sake—do you even know where you’re standing?” Arata’s voice was calm but deliberate, as if addressing a child. “Scan her for weapons, then let her in.” The guard sighed and waved the scanner across the woman’s body. No alerts. No weapons. Just trembling limbs and desperation. Dr. Arata tapped her wrist comm. “Taylor, this is Dr. Arata, prep a level 2 observation room. I’m bringing someone up.” “I wasn’t informed of anything for this evening.” came the uncertain reply. “ Yes, I know, just do as I ask please.”