"Very well. Database gateways are accessed with the keypad."
"Where is the keypad?" Sanders said.
"Make a fist with your hand."
Sanders made a fist and a gray pad formed in the air so that he appeared to be holding it. He pulled it toward him and looked at it.
"Pretty neat," Fernandez said.
"I also know jokes," the angel said. "Would you like to hear one?" "No," Sanders said.
"Very well. I await your command."
Sanders stared at the pad. It had a long list of operator commands, with arrows and push buttons. Fernandez said, "What is that, the world's most complicated TV remote?"
`Just about."
He found a push button marked OTHER 1311. That seemed likely. He pressed it.
Nothing happened.
He pressed it again.
"The gateway is opening," the angel announced.
"Where? I don't see anything."
"The gateway is opening."
Sanders waited. Then he realized that the DigiCom system would have to connect to any remote database. The connection was going through; that was causing a delay.
"Connecting . . . now," the angel said.
The wall of the Corridor began to dissolve. They saw a large gaping black hole, and nothing beyond it.
"That's creepy," Fernandez said.
White wire-frame lines began to appear, outlining a new corridor. The spaces filled, one by one, creating the appearance of solid shapes.
"This one looks different," Fernandez said.
"We're connecting over a T-1 high-speed data line," Sanders said. "But even so, it's much slower."
The Corridor rebuilt itself as they watched. This time the walls were gray. They faced a black-and-white world.
"No color?"
"The system's trying to generate a simpler environment. Color means more data to push around. So this is black and white."
The new corridor added lights, a ceiling, a floor. After a moment, Sanders said, "Shall we go in?"
"You mean, the Conley-White database is in there?"
"That's right," Sanders said.
"I don't know," she said. She pointed: "What about this?"
Directly in front of them was a kind of flowing river of black-and white static. It ran along the floor, and also along the walls. It made a loud hissing sound.
"I think that's just static off the phone lines."
"You think it's okay to cross?"
"We have to."
He started forward. Immediately, there was a growl. A large dog blocked their path. It had three heads that floated above its body, looking in all directions.
"What's that?"
"Probably a representation of their system security." Cherry and his sense of humor, he thought.
"Can it hurt us?"
"For God's sake, Louise. It's just a cartoon." Somewhere, of course, there was an actual monitoring system running on the Conley-White database. Perhaps it was automatic, or perhaps there was a real person who actually watched users come and go on the system. But now it was nearly one o'clock in the morning in New York. The dog was most likely just an automatic device of some kind.
Sanders walked forward, stepping through the flowing river of static. The dog growled as he approached. The three heads swiveled, watching him as he passed with cartoon eyes. It was a strange sensation. But nothing happened.
He looked back at Fernandez. "Coming?"
She moved forward tentatively. The angel remained behind, hovering in the air.
"Angel, are you coming?"
It didn't answer.
"Probably can't cross a gateway," Sanders said. "Not programmed."
They walked down the gray corridor. It was lined with unmarked drawers on all sides.
"It looks like a morgue," Fernandez said.
"Well, at least we're here."
"This is their company database in New York?"
"Yes. I just hope we can find it."
"Find what?"
He didn't answer her. He walked over to one file cabinet at random and pulled it open. He scanned the folders.
"Building permits," he said. "For some warehouse in Maryland, looks like."
"Why aren't there labels?"
Even as she said it, Sanders saw that labels were slowly emerging out of the gray surfaces. "I guess it just takes time." Sanders turned and looked in all directions, scanning the other labels. "Okay. That's better. HR records are on this wall, over here."
He walked along the wall. He pulled open a drawer.
"Uh-oh," Fernandez said.
"What?"
"Somebody's coming," she said, in an odd voice.
At the far end of the corridor, a gray figure was approaching. It was still too distant to make out details. But it was striding directly toward them.
"What do we do?"
"I don't know," Sanders said.
"Can he see us?"
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"We can see him, but he can't see us?"
"I don't know." Sanders was trying to figure it out. Cherry had installed another virtual system in the hotel. If someone was on that system, then he or she could probably see them. But Cherry had said that his system represented other users as well, such as somebody accessing the database from a computer. And somebody using a computer wouldn't be able to see them. A computer user wouldn't know who else was in the system.
The figure continued to advance. It seemed to come forward in jerks, not smoothly. They saw more detail; they could start to see eyes, a nose, a mouth.
"This is really creepy," Fernandez said.