Opiate of the Kill

It's death brought familiar clarity. Brother James suffered an almost narcotic shock. A crystal sharp awareness yawed him.

The sloping green forests leading away from the mountains where the monastery nestled, tumbling down to the sea and the sprawling, thrumming city by the sea. Across the narrows James gawped at the lights of the Industry zone, still in darkness.

The bauble dome of the Cityship glistened above them all, unknowing black space beyond it.

Hot, trained tears grounded him. He dropped next to the dead wolf and choked, sobbed, bargained, begged it to live again, snarling lethal jaws and all.