The Klichka weighed a half ton, and she couldn’t breathe, her chest throbbing with the pain of his weight on her bruised and broken body. She tried to push him off, failed. She looked past his bulk to see Red haul up a thick black cable, sparks hissing from its torn end; he’d dropped it onto the hack-job’s naked torso. Alice’s jacket had saved her, its spider-silk layers nonconductive. Suit had crashed, its embedded lights flickering a digital snow storm.