Helix flips on her videovest and scans the inside of her shades for the appropriate av channel- dragonfly eye.. Suddenly her second skin ripples with anistropic electro pearl, woven with symbols she selects at will. Then she dials up her volume, and from a diaphragm inlaid in her belt buckle comes her personal vibe: preselected tracks auto syncing to the frequencies all around her. With her own personal sound and video system, she is the party. But then everyone here is their own island. She slips into the archipelago, drifting between infospheres and whips a vicious magnetic striptease, flashing video seduction and glimpses of her encrypted treasures.

Then from the interior of the holographitti, a shapeshifter unfolds, pointing some kind of laser at her face. Suddenly she’s lying on an altar operating table being vivisected by a techno Cyclops with thousands of little tentacle arms all ending with bizarre surgical tools. She shields her eyes and breaks the beam penetrating her retina and discovers Daz looking sinister through his third eye shades. He smirks and they slink towards each other, synchronizing their rhythm and patterns. Without speaking, Daz flashes a motion graphic question from the back of his hand, asking if she’d like to trade music. She nods and they descend into an intimate dance where they connect jewelry and exchange flavor.