Golden coins the size of soyburgers begin pouring from a chute in the front of the booth: datastores downloading. Neona snatches and scans each coin as it flies toward her belly: data on toxic waste, pollutants dumped raw into the environment, people paid off to look the other way. All kinds of squat like that. Just the kind of squat Gamma always wants, the kind he lives and breathes for. The kind that's kept him sending Neona into the Matrix over and over.