Its beauty is deceptive, however, and becoming too entranced with it has led many a fine decker to his death. For the Matrix is cold, and its hard-edged, luminous geometry is no place for men of flesh and blood. We are intruders, the virus in the body. Often I have fancied that I could feel the hostility of cyberspace, its desire to be rid of me. But I cannot stay away. The Matrix is a woman, beautiful and intoxicating, who kisses you urgently while easing a knife to your throat. Exciting, certainly, but incredibly hard on the nerves.