She nodded, then teased, “Do you have political parties?”
He remained serious as he answered, “No, the fifty represent their families, nothing more. Agreements or partnerships between the representatives, outside the Pactum, are not allowed.”
“Do the, what did you call them, Consenti, do they get paid?”
He shook his head, “No, it is considered an honor to serve. No one is forced to represent. Volunteers don’t get paid.”
“How often do they meet?”
He shrugged, “As often as needed and as often as they are called into quorum. If five family representatives request a gathering, they must meet.”
“So one-tenth is the magic number.”
“To call a gathering,” he smiled. “To pass a motion, forty-five of the fifty must vote in favor of it.”
“Again,” she said, “defeating the one-tenth.”
“That is a way of looking at it, though in practice, they are obligated to try for a unanimous ruling. Such a decision is tolerated better by the families.”
“I see.”
Alwyn nodded in the direction of the house and added, “My mother is the Consenti of the Lloyd family.”
“But what if they, all the Consenti, can’t agree? What if they debate and argue and just can’t?”
“That is unacceptable,” he said, shaking his head. “Wolves by their nature struggle with rules and regulations. Just because something is a law means little to a wolf. You may have noticed the way Miranda drives when off the estate?”
“You mean like a maniac,” Andee smiled.
“Exactly,” Alwyn nodded, “but on the estate, because the rule is made by her Aunt, her Consenti, she is more likely to control her desires.”
Again, Andee nodded.
“That is the way with all wolves, and because of that, the Pactum is not allowed to remain in a disagreed state.”
“But surely…” Andee wouldn’t let it go.
Alwyn raised a hand, palm toward her, in surrender.
“During the 1850s, with the debates raging across this country about slavery and succession, several families decided the time was right to seize a section of the country and make it a werewolf state. One area that would be controlled by wolves. The Pactum met, and after several months, was unable to come to agreement over the issue.”
“What happened?” Andee asked.
“The Consenti were called home, each to their own family. Several of them were executed by family members, others were expelled from their families. Two of the disgraced Consenti committed suicide. Fifty new Consenti were selected and sent back to the Pactum. After a few weeks, it was decided to stay out of the national argument.”
“Wait a minute, are you telling me some of the representatives were executed by their relatives for failing to come to agreement?”
“To an outsider, it perhaps makes no sense and is even viewed as violent. Seen from our side, not so much. We are a species under the threat of extinction. Unlike other such species, we have the ability to think, to ponder and to present arguments. The survival of the werewolf species is, in large part, dependent on how we, as wolves, behave. Since our nature is to misbehave, there must be rules we respect. Those who fail are viewed to have forfeited their life.”
“You execute those who don’t do as they should?”
“They’re not executed. They forfeit. There’s a difference.”
“Tell that to Eduardo Ferreira,” her tone was sarcastic.
“Eduardo Ferreira understood,” Alwyn replied.
“Oh, how do you know?” she challenged.
“He was a wolf. He was born a wolf, he lived as a wolf, and when it was determined he be culled, he forfeited as a wolf. He understood.”
She stared at him, and he stared back. Neither was willing to acquiesce.
Finally, she asked, “And there is one representative for each family?”
“Correct,” he said, as if she was a student.
“What’s the difference between a family and a pack? I’ve heard you refer to both.”
“Good question,” he smiled, and his actions brought a blush to her cheeks.
She is so gorgeous, he thought and then focused.
“I am a member of the Lloyd family. That includes those people directly related to me. Just as in human families. I am also a member of a clan. My clan is made up of those families that have become related through marriages to relatives of mine.”
“I see,” she said, “so we’re talking about a large number of people.”
He shrugged, “In some cases, with large being a flexible word.”
“Lastly,” he said, “I also belong to a pack. Pack members are not necessarily family nor clan members, but they are wolves who live in the same territory as I do. The Ferreira family is not related to me, in any way, but because they live in the area, they are part of my pack. When one of us moves, they will no longer be pack members.”
“Señor Ferreira, the delegate, is a pack member?”
“Of course.”
“That means he’s a werewolf.”
“Yes. That would be why his son was killed in the manner he was killed in Central Park.”
“So Eduardo Ferreira wasn’t killed by some crazy werewolf hunter?”
“I don’t think so. I believe he was forfeited for crimes he committed against the werewolf society.”
“Well, who decided he had to be killed?”
Alwyn hesitated for only a moment, and then said, “The Pactum.”
Andee allowed the words to sink in as she studied him.
“That means your mother...”
“It was unanimous,” he interjected.
“But I thought the Pactum was a representative body?”
“It is,” he agreed. “Think of the Pactum as a cross between the US Senate and the US Supreme Court.”
She nodded, then said, “Let me ask you a question.”
He smiled, pointed at her, and said, “The pretty lady in the back row.”
She giggled.
“Seriously now,” she said, “your mother is the representative for your family.”
He nodded, “Yes, she is our Consenti.”
“How long is her term of office, and how does she get elected?”
“You’re a good student,” he laughed. “I might have to keep you after class for extra assignments.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all your female students,” she returned.
“So Miranda told me,” he teased.
Her expression fell, “She really told you I said that about you?”
“She did.”
“I’m sorry. I saw those students in your office that first day, all lined up to see you, and then I saw you...”
“And tripped on the rug, if I remember,” he said.
Andee grimaced, “You could have gone all day without bringing that up.”
“I guess,” he said.
“Seriously, I apologize for what I said about you.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he smiled. “I took it as a compliment. It’s not like the story hasn’t been spread before, but like most stories about me, and my kind, there is no basis in fact.”
“Your kind being werewolves,” she added.
“No,” he said, with mock seriousness, “my kind being history professors.”
She grimaced and shook her head, “Get back to the lecture, please.”
“Okay,” he grinned, “you asked about the election process. Like most things in our society, it is somewhat loose and informal. Not all families do it the same way. In our case, for the Lloyds, my mother was selected during a family reunion. She already held great sway in the family, and I know of none that feel any type of disrespect for her. It really was as simple as by show of hands.”
“How long will she serve?”
“That depends on several things.”
“Such as?”
“Well, she’ll serve as long as she wants to. She could qui
t tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“She will serve as long as the family wants her to. She replaced another. Someday, the family will replace her.”
“Oh,” Andee said.
“Lastly, the Pactum has the authority to remove her if, in the view of forty of the fifty, she is obstinate and uncompromising. Remember, their purpose is to come to agreement, to compromise.”
“Where do they meet?”
“There is not a permanent building, so they choose where they meet, and they only meet when it’s deemed to be necessary. My mother likes to meet in Athens, Greece.”
“Really, in Athens?”
“Yeah, she says that’s where the whole thing started, so it might as well be kept in the loop.”
“Athens,” Andee repeated.
“Much of the work is done over computer nowadays,” Alwyn added.
“Computer?”
“Yeah, many of the other Consenti don’t like to travel, and the internet has to be good for something. Culling Ferreira was decided by vote on the internet.”
Andee scowled, “That doesn’t seem right. They didn’t meet face to face? Didn’t the guy have a chance to defend himself?”
“Of course he did.”
“Over the internet?”
“Look,” Alwyn said, his voice a little heated, “Unlike some justice systems I could name, we are not bogged down by rules of what can and cannot be admitted. We don’t play the word games lawyers play while grandstanding in front of a jury. We recognize that not everyone is as capable, or as intelligent, or as able as another, so we don’t allow over paid mouthpieces to try to make fools of witnesses through a process called cross-examination.”
“If the witness isn’t cross examined, how can the truth be determined?”
Alwyn wagged a finger at her, “The one thing a wolf will never do to another wolf is lie to them.”
“Alwyn, please, everybody lies.”
“No, Andee,” he shook his head. “Wolves don’t lie to wolves. We are taught that from the moment of our birth not to lie to another wolf. A human, yeah, of course, if it serves the greater purpose, but not to another wolf. At the end of the day, the only thing we have is each other.”
They studied each other. Alwyn changed the discussion.
“How many of us do you think there are?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted.
“And neither do I. The question ‘are you a werewolf’ as never been put on a census form. Even if it was, no one would answer truthfully. Our distrust of the government is too high. Governments and other well-meaning people have been trying to destroy us for generations. We would never give them our addresses. Best guesses, and these are only guesses, is out of the seven billion people on earth, roughly one-one-hundredth of one percent are in some part werewolf. So, worldwide, seventy-million people are part wolf, and more than half that number don’t realize what they are.”
His gaze intensified.
“Those of us who were raised in the customs of the wolf know, in order for the species to survive, truth has to exist between wolves.”
“Seventy million werewolves?”
“Best guess,” he smiled, and then turned grim.
“You think that is a lot? World War Two killed, depending on the definition of the war dates between forty and eighty-five million. We killed that many in only six or seven years. Does seventy-million seem so many now? Seventy-million is roughly the population of Thailand. It’s a little more than France or England. Of that number, I’d guess less than one-third are full wolf, like me. Many of that number don’t even know they are wolf, or part wolf. Some that carry the gene would laugh at you if you told them. They’d think you’re crazy.”
“I guess you’re right, that really isn’t that many.”
“The numbers don’t really matter, because at the end of the day, it’s all guesswork. The lesson, my dear student, is that a wolf won’t lie, not to another wolf, and it’s frowned upon even to lie to humans.”
She smiled, and nibbled at her manicured thumbnail. She studied him as if she wanted him for lunch.
“What is it?” he asked?
“It just dawned on me, you live your life in a constant state of truth or dare.”
“How so?”
“If I ask you a question, you have to tell me the truth.”
He nodded, “You are correct, if I decide to answer the question.”
Her hand fell away from her mouth, and she scowled at him, “You mean you might not answer?”
“There is that possibility,” he smiled.
“Tell me about the Unum.”
“Okay, we’re getting there.”
She rolled her eyes, “So you’ve said, several times.”
He grinned and looked over her shoulder in the direction of the house and waved to Anna. The younger version of Miranda smiled and walked toward her uncle.
“I was just coming your way,” she said to Alwyn, ignoring Andee.
“Anna, have you met…”
“We have,” the young lady interrupted.
“You said you were coming my way,” Alwyn chose to ignore the snub toward the agent.
“Yes. I wanted to let you know Miranda is awake and said to tell you she’s feeling better.”
Alwyn smiled a full and relaxed smile. His feelings for his family was obvious to Andee.
“Did you tell her I had come to see her?” Andee asked.
Anna looked at the agent as if seeing her for the first time.
“I did not.”
Alwyn shook his head, “Anna, what happened is not Agent Trakes’ fault. If you must blame someone, make it me. I was the one who sent her there.”
Anna, little more than a girl, lowered her head and looked at the ground.
“Yes, Unum,” she said.
Alwyn reached to her chin, and raised her face so he could look into her eyes, as he said gently, “Uncle. Call me Uncle.”
Anna smiled and tears formed. She nodded her head several times and sniffed.
“Would you be kind enough to do me a service?” Alwyn asked.
“Anything,” was the reply.
“Be careful with that,” he warned.
Again, she nodded her head.
“A couple of things. First, please tell Miranda I am happy to hear she is on the mend and tell her Agent Trakes is here to visit, if and when Miranda feels up to it.”
Anna looked briefly at Andee.
“Okay,” she said to her uncle.
He nodded, and Andee murmured, “Thank you.”
Anna nodded to them both.
“Lastly,” Alwyn said, “would you be kind enough to bring me some water and Andee a cup of chocolate?”
“Of course,” the girl said, and turned to leave.
She turned back.
“Yes?” Alwyn asked.
Anna looked past him to Andee and said, “I was wrong. My sister is badly hurt, and I blamed you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Before Andee could respond, Anna was gone.
They watched her leave and Alwyn turned to Andee, “I told you, we are a brutal people and sometimes, that brutality comes out in our honesty.”
“She called you Unum.”
“She did.”
“The other day, your mother and Miranda referred to you as the Unum.”
“They did.”
“In fact, you referred to yourself as the Unum.”
“I did.”
Andee stepped close to him. She extended her finger and poked him in the center of his chest. They stood close, their breath mixing in the space before them. She caught his scent, and he was bathed in the fragrance of her perfume.
“Now,” she said, “you tell me what the hell the Unum is.”
He nodded and smiled.
He took her hand from his chest and using it, led her back to the bench. He kept it as he offered her a seat, and then he sat beside her. She looked at her hand in his and raised her gaze to his
face. His expression was simple. Tell me to let go, and I will. She didn’t.
“Unlike other positions, such as the Consenti, that are elected, the Unum is selected at birth, sometimes before. I was chosen to be the Lloyd Unum as soon as my parents, primarily my mother, knew she was carrying a son. She ate only certain items while she carried me, and I have maintained a strict diet since a child.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, “you ate the same way as a boy as you do now?”
He nodded.
“So you never had an ice cream? Or a soda?”
He shook his head.
“But you had no choice in this. You didn’t come out of the womb and say I want to be the next Unum. I’m guessing there were Unums before you.”
He smiled.
“Yes, of course, and there will be Unums after me. An uncle on my mother’s side served until recently. And, just so you don’t think my parents abused me, I always had the choice of saying no. I could have turned it down at any time. Even today, I could turn it down.”
“What would the consequences be if you did?”
“Other than the embarrassment to my family, none. All of us are free to answer our calling, or not.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he repeated.
“What about the Consenti that were executed in the 1850s that you told me about?”
“I said we were free to choose. We’re not free to fail.”
She looked away and then back to him, her expression impish.
“What would it take for you to shuck it all, turn your back on your family, and head to, say, California?”
“Well…” he started.
“And remember, you can’t lie.”
He smiled. “As I was about to say, a shapely blonde with deep blue eyes would be a temptation.”
“Really?” she said, looking down where he still held her hand. “What if she was a brunette with brown eyes?”
“Shapely?”
“Absolutely.”
“Does she have a fast convertible?”
She grimaced and shook her head, answering, “A government-issued pool car, a sedan, hardtop.”
“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “Is she rich?”
“Not so much. If she works long enough and hard enough she’ll have a nice pension, but she’ll be too old to enjoy it.”
“Does she at least live in California?”
Shadow of the Moon: A Fantasy of Love, Murder and Werewolves Page 20