The People's Alpha ✔

19: Full Moon

The full moon was high in the still night sky. It was warm outside; the cloud cover made sure of that.

A sizeable part of the pack had come over to the pack house to escape the monotony of being stuck at home, in the hope that toughing out the clawing wanderlust that came with every full moon with some of their fellow packmates would be a little more bearable. The turnout was not quite what I'd expected, but still substantial.

In packs all around the island, the same scene was playing out. Meanwhile, across the border in Zirconia, the sound of suppressant pills being popped was surely reaching deafening levels.

The air inside these wood-paneled walls felt heavy. The stillness outside compounded the sensation of tepidity, as did the mellow glow of the lights. Most of us were sitting, on chairs, on the sofas, or just cross-legged on the floor. Few of us felt like conversation. Most had either gathered upon the Zirconian soap opera playing at low volume on the single TV, meditating, or just staring blankly into space.

The only people who seemed to have some semblance of vigour left were the patriarch of the Anderson family and father of Keith and Brian, Old Man Anderson, and chief warrior Lister, who were seated at one of the tables. They were across the room from me, but it was so quiet that almost everybody could tune in to their conversation without much strain.

"...who knows. They're unpredictable. Sooner or later someone was going to be targeted."

"Their M.O's a lot different from the 1990s. The bite marks were clean. They died quickly and painlessly. They knew who and what they were targeting. They were prepared. Back in the Hill attack in '95 the bite marks were ragged. I recall there was one pup who got slashed almost beyond recognition but lived because they missed all his vitals."

Old Man Anderson leaned back into his chair. "Where's he now?"

"Some Zirconian family adopted him. He's probably in uni by now." Lister wiped the sweat off his brow. "They don't think everybody died at once. Something knocked out the electrical systems, which is why nobody was able to raise the alarm. An electro-magnetic pulse or something.

"Back then they were desperate. They're not so desperate this time. They're taking their time."

"Surely an incursion into the settlements is of order."

"It's too risky."

"That's the OPLU's official line, right? They just want to sweep this under the carpet."

"And why would they want to do that?"

"They're the ones who let this whole rogue problem get out of hand. They screwed up the economy in the '90s, Zirconia bailed them out, and then they got away with it."

"That's old news. There's this new book out that looks at it from a totally different angle. There's documents we didn't know existed before. New thinking. New perspectives. You haven't seen this stuff. It will change your views."

"That's what they always say."

"The author's pretty reputable. Professor at the U of C. Fairly unbiased as Zirconian academics go."

"I don't trust them. Never have."

"This guy's different, I'm telling you. He's the first guy I've read who actually has an understanding of pack dynamics. And an opinion of the OPLU that didn't completely hinge on how much they promoted western democracy."

"So what's his hypothesis, if it's so good as you say?

"Essentially, his argument is that Sefton, Cameron and Holtz dreamed it up in the late '70s as a way of getting free money from idealistic Zirconians. As opposed to the other way around, as they would have you believe."