As a convoy we headed back into dinner at the Alpha's residence. The bright flashing neon lights of the town cast a dome of light into the sky ahead of us, blocking out the stars.

The conference had dragged on. Adlai had continued to make his case for rogue reconciliation. The Zirconian officials had made some kind of dull droning speech, which I barely remembered, about new co-operation opportunities that rogue empowerement could bring, which was roundly booed as usual. Then they had presented a business case for the extension of the high-speed rail line over the border, to a little less booing. Then there had been some more fighting. Ryder had tabled a motion to ban The Alpha King's Omega Mate, which had been roundly laughed out.

Bodywork gleaming in the rapidly passing streetlamps, shimmering reflections flickering on the windscreen, floating along effortlessly in the usual way, the Moon Goddess looked and sounded like she was enjoying thumbing her nose at the land yachts that surrounded her. The lake stretched out on our right, glimmering with flecks of silver in the glow cast by the nearly-full moon.

Cameron's house was only a short drive away from the Renaissance Centre, and we arrived very shortly at the enormous porte-cochere of his not-so humble abode.

***

Brian tapped the pillar behind us. "Foam. Quite nice stuff, actually. But not in this context."

Brian, who had never been a huge fan of small talk, had spent the better part of an hour talking me through the numerous architectural sins of Alpha Cameron's house: the oversized front portico; the lawyer foyer; the foam pillars which served no purpose; the stylistically dissonant turrets with pointed-arch windows; the tacked-on stone fireplaces; the obscene use of prairie muntins on the oversized windows.

The only things which Brian seemed to approve of were the beautifully landscaped gardens and the general quality of the materials. I had no doubt that Cameron had moved heaven and earth for his dream house.

We were currently standing underneath a stair landing, looking at the other guests mingling around the grand room. All the grievances and disagreements of the day seemed to have been forgotten as the wine and conversation flowed.

"Oh my." In one of the shadowed edges of the stair landing, Brian had suddenly discovered another quirk of Cameron's house of horrors. "Look at the wallpaper. Just look."

I peeked and immediately regretted it. "Oh, that is... unfortunate."

Brian doubled over in hysterics. "Paw prints. Please kill me." I was also struggling to hold back laughter.

"Hang on. I need to get a photo of this." Brian fumbled for his phone. "This is pure gold. This is why Zirconians make fun of us."

I looked around at the other party guests. The two delegates from the Salmon Creek pack were engaged in conversation with Adlai. They seemed to be comfortable now. They seemed to be getting along quite well.

Alpha Cameron was standing next to them, entertaining some guests from somewhere in the Caribbean. He was far older than he looked in the posters. His hair was greying and there were liver spots.

Thurgood was nowhere to be seen. I guessed he was in one of the other rooms.

"I'm going out for some fresh air." I set my wine glass on the nearest table.

Brian "Go for it. I'll wait here."

***

I walked out onto the balcony at the back, past the large pool, past the throngs of people. Port Mirabel lay below, the panorama of its bright lights sprawled out in front of us, the stretching up into the mountains. The lights got thinner and thinner as they went upwards.

Many rogues were there, living hand-to-mouth in informal settlements on the hills above the town, attracted by the promise of plentiful work and relatively high wages. Many had been here since the 1990s, when the relatively stable income of the casinos had seemed like a beacon of light in the turmoil that was going on elsewhere. Some had even begun to re-integrate into the pack. Their presence was tolerated more in avoidance than in practice; few publications even admitted that they were here.

It seemed quite placid down there, on this night of all nights. But what would it take for them to shift and come up the hills, and tear through this audacious display of decadence, which would be surely visible from some vantage points they had easy access to? Were they really capable of such acts? Were they really the untameable savages that the others seemed to believe them to be? What was it like down there? Was it like the genteel poverty of Copenhagen Town, or the rough laneways of the East Side, as Thurgood had briefly alluded to in the lobby in the afternoon?

We had become so disconnected, ever since the 1990s. It was almost frightening to think of.

But Cameron could not afford to do anything less than to make his house impenetrable. There were surely countless security personnel stationed around the house, judging by what I had seen earlier in the day. I could smell the rough cologne that they used wafting ever so gently up from the shadowy scrub of the rolling hills below.

"There are people starving in the slums below us and we're concerned about the sandwiches. The state of things."

I became aware of a presence next to me. I wasn't exactly ready for this, but I very quickly composed myself.

"Adlai."

"Jim. I don't believe we've met before."

We shook hands. His was much larger than mine, pudgy and soft, but the grip was firm, finetuned into a subtle show of force. Up close now as we were, his figure was quietly imposing in a way I found I could not really explain. He was slightly taller than me, I had to tilt my head by a small angle upwards to meet his gaze. The effect was subtle, but quietly significant.

In the distance, Stevenson stood alone, drinking something clear, staring at our conversation with his dead stare. I stomached the unease.

"I understand that you are also quite known around Copenhagen Town." Adlai's gaze seemed to suggest interest, but I could not be too sure in the dim light of the balcony.

How did he know? I wasn't too surprised, but he was more frank about it than I had expected.

"I do know a few people around those parts. I saw the supercentre being built when I was last there. Very impressive."

"Yes, it is. It's coming along very well, slightly ahead of schedule, in fact. It is one of my pet projects. It is the first of many. Or should I say; it will be the first of many. In the future, we might even put one down there." He gestured down at the thin web of orange lights lining the hills below us that I had pondered upon not long before.

"Why are you interested in the rogues?" I was aware that I was potentially treading on dangerous ground, but Adlai seemed to take it as a sign of genuine enthusiasm in his cause.

"It was in the early 1990s that I first became acquainted with them. Every time I went into the Zone on business, there were people in the streets going hungry, holding placards, begging for food. I could barely provide for my pack at that time. We were fortunate because my pack had a sizeable orchard and we always had things to eat, but that was a curse in itself as we became a ripe target for rogues.

"I decided to donate any surplus food we had to the rogues. My pack was quite resistant to my proposal at the start, but they got behind the idea soon enough. And the rest is history, as they say."

He looked out towards the lake, an inscrutable expression borne on his face. "And you?"

"I employ many of them in my company. They're reliable workers."

"They are indeed." Adlai did not elaborate further on this. "Speaking of your company... transport services are rather limited in my part of the world. I was wondering if you could perhaps assist me in this regard."

I nodded. "I'll look into it. Currently our priority is expanding and improving services on our existing network. But I'm open to new suggestions."

"That's good to hear. I hope we can work something out together."

"I hope so too."

His gaze had again drifted towards the neon-lit landscape below. The palm trees lining the winding path of the Corniche had been lit up in varying colours, rainbow shades reflecting off the calm waters of the lake.

"We are at a pivotal time in history, Jim." Adlai's gaze stayed over the landscape below. "We have a choice. We can stay the way we are. Or we can adapt. And we can become the people's Alphas."

"The People's Alpha." The phrase did not roll easily in my mouth. "What do you mean by that?"