In the darkness of the old city, a wolf dragged a human forearm back to its lair. The skin was burned, the palm embedded in the hand was extinguished.
The palm whirred suddenly to life. Powered by a tiny and hidden auxiliary battery, it reanimated itself.
The wolf dropped its prize at the sound and backed away, growling. The palm lit, the spinning logo of the Society of Nuclear Darwinists reflected in the eyes of the watchful canine.
The wolf snarled.
The golden logo blinked three times, dispatching a pre-programmed message with each flash. It then dimmed and fell silent for the last time.
Moments later, the wolf sniffed the limb, its manner wary. The palm was dark again, and the smell of fresh meat too overwhelming to be ignored. Another wolf drew near, drawn by the prospect of a mea
