August arrived without a single infected beast leaving its territory.
The military had maintained its usual seasonal preparations, reinforcing the northern observation posts and keeping rapid-response units on standby despite the absence of aggression along the restricted perimeter. Thermal surveillance showed the dormant populations remaining almost exactly where they had been in spring, while the transformed animals continued behaving like ordinary wildlife.
Nobody knew whether the season had been delayed, interrupted by Claudia's pheromonal cocktail, or somehow changed by Arion's involvement.
Hendrik refused to celebrate until September.
Dean considered that perfectly reasonable, although he wished the commander would stop sending reports during breakfast.
Arion, meanwhile, had another problem.
Ducks.
He found one inside his office safe on the morning of his thirty-first birthday.
The safe had biometric access.
Dean did not.
