Suit was right, its sociopathic intelligence arrowing to the truth—she didn’t know how to find Mike, and was in no shape to rescue him even if she did. For a moment Alice closed her eyes and savored the thought of surrender. They would kill her, of course, and that beautiful velvety blackness beckoned to her: so close, so absolute, so peaceful. She’d been smothered by that blanket once before, and had raged against the medics and machines who brought her back.