Both decks were connected to a splitter box, and from there to a telecom jack in the wall. Sly stared at that connection. That was the way to the Matrix. The thought tolled in her head like a great bell. The Matrix . . . the Matrix . . . the Matrix . . . She picked up the deck’s "skull-plug"—the small F-DIN-style connection designed to be inserted into the user’s datajack. So innocuous-looking, and yet so dangerous. Through that tiny connection, a decker could project her consciousness into cyberspace. But, also through that connection, any of the multiple threats of the Matrix could worm their way directly into her brain. Sly was shaking again.