The music changed abruptly from canned pop drek to a wild electronic Beledi. With a smile, I looked up at the stage where Yasmine, the belly dancer, had burst onto the stage in a whirlwind of skirts and red hair. Light glistened in a rainbow across the chrome scales of her cyberpython. The metal serpent encircling her waist, she undulated sensually. Just for a moment, I could see the impressive, brilliantly colored dragon tattoo that covered her right shin from ankle to knee. Then she went into a spin so rapid that it became a blur of motion and color. I shook my head in amazement and grinned. I am almost certain she had chipped her reflexes for dancing.