With a theatrical flourish, he produced the datachip, like an old-time stage conjuror pulling a rabbit out of a hat. The woman took it, and fitted it into a data reader. She jacked the device into her temple and her expression became distant as she filtered the information through her senses. She stiffened. As if in a dream, she began to mutter a stream of invective in a steady monotone. Then she jacked out.