Lucky’s satchel began to vibrate. They had bought some of the “worst” seats, low down to the bottom of the stadium, where they had to crane their necks to have a chance of seeing anything. But they weren’t quite alone in their row. Lucky slid the satchel around until it was right in front of her, then flipped it open. It was the computation surface, shaking and rattling around with her bits. She touched it, trying to silence it, but it just got more violent.