" I love how Red Kryptonite apparently works subdermally, then intravenously, eventually rushing to the eyes and the head. Is it basically Kryptonian cocaine? I hope Clark talks nonstop and goes on and on about his yacht."
"I'm doing mechanics," he says, fingers tapping in unconscious urgency on the sharp edges of a credit-card-sized AI computer brain; same kind of servant-mind you can find in your Maker, one that comes with the standard chemical scanning gear that checks your food as fit for consumption. Some bastard here's selling mechanics, and he wants some. Not needs. Not yet. Mechanics is—at least begins as—a drug, one new enough that we haven't yet developed addiction resistance to it. A drug whose chemical code is also machine code. Make the AI card scan the drug, do the drug yourself, and you and the machine intelligence both get good and fucked up. The drug creates a connection between your mind and the AI. The AI breaks into your head and starts messing around with your DNA. Move a human chemical here, juggle some more there—and human tissue becomes mineral matter. You grow mechanics. The high passes. The mechanics remain."
— Spider Jerusalem—"I Hate it Here", Transmetropolitan
Along the way, I meet a drug dealer who sells this thing called Zyme. I assume this is one of those fictional drugs created so that the game doesn't have to deal with the ratings problems of real drugs, which is amusing considering the sheer number of other RL references to conspiracy stuff the game has. Apparently you can say that the US government is evil, but you can't say that there is a drug problem on the streets without making up a fictional drug for that purpose.