“Canis latrans,” Wolfenson finally remarked.Fincher furrowed his brow. “Latin for... barking dog?”“Yes, the coyote. They have a gift of making the howls of a few sound like the howls of the many.” He looked toward the roadblock of brick and mortar. “I believe that’s why the Landlord chose them as his messengers.”

“A lizard brain fired the gun that wounded you, but it was the combination of three brains that orchestrated the elaborate circumstances in which the trigger was pulled. Way back when, the Landlord believed a second brain would endow some of his lower life forms with the capacity for emotional connections. By adding the third brain, he probably planned on having his... higher forms empowered with the ability to not only think before acting, but to feel regret afterwards when their actions were wrong. But that’s not what happened, is it?”

“Imagining you are going to die is all part of that third brain… the neo-cortex. That’s where the Landlord really screwed up.”

“Oh, I apologize, Padre. I said ‘you will see.’ I forgot that you can’t, in fact, see. So I apologize, but only for the slip of the tongue. Because you and I both know your infliction is something for which the Landlord alone is responsible.”

“In all your years as a priest, I’m sure you’ve been asked this many times: ‘Why does he do this if he loves us? Why does he shake down our homes? Destroy our cities? Let our children starve?’ They ask these questions, not because they are confused... but because they suspect the truth. And you share their suspicions.”

“I believe that on any trip to heaven, there are always detours through hell.”

“Every second I stand here in your temperature-controlled cell,” Jenna said, “I’m forced to suck down the same recycled air that’s going through your nostrils, and that thought absolutely nauseates me.”