The lights flared to maximum brilliance, then flickered out. He smiled in the darkness, groping for the steel bottle. Stoiko had provoked a general systems crash. It hadn’t been difficult. The memory banks were already riddled to the point of collapse with bootlegged television broadcasts. ‘The real bareknuckle stuff,’ he muttered, banging the bottle against the wall. The lights flickered on weakly as emergency cells came on line.