And suddenly she isn’t plain old Neona Jaxx anymore. Her infamous streaks of
bad luck don’t mean nothing. Her uncertainties fade to zero. She navigates the
data stream like a born-to-fly electron angel, a ramjammer in pulsing gold neon, 
with a halo and wings and a keyboard guitar, and now she’s skating ahead and
into the glowing face of a pyramidal node. Her fingers rush over the keys of her 
keyboard guitar and a swirling stream of alphanumerics sluices from the 
integral speaker, spirals into the node and disappears. An instant later, the 
node’s open and she’s streaming ahead, into the Northeast Philly local
telecommunications grid.