...silence. The little death of a party. 	--and, then, the music comes back as a low, subliminal thrum: bass rattling at a level that's felt in the bones rather than heard, a low -thump thump thump- that rises up through the floor, suffuses the room, and -- as it peaks, and Hiro twists two dials simultaneously to redline -- explodes into an audible matrice of sound.