Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [139]
“It’s modeled on a real library. In Oxford, I think.”
They came to the junction, with other corridors stretching away. Big signs hung overhead. One said “Accounting.” Another said “Human Resources.” A third said “Marketing.”
“I see,” Fernandez said. “We’re inside your company database.”
“That’s right.”
“This is amazing.”
“Yeah. Except we don’t want to be here. Somehow, we have to get into Conley-White.”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know,” Sanders said. “I need help.”
“Help is here,” said a soft voice nearby. Sanders looked over and saw an angel, about a foot high. It was white, and hovered in the air near his head. It held a flickering candle in its hands.
“Goddamn,” Louise said.
“I am sorry,” the angel said. “Is that a command? I do not recognize ‘Goddamn.’ ”
“No,” Sanders said quickly. “It’s not a command.” He was thinking that he would have to be careful or they would crash the system.
“Very well. I await your command.”
“Angel: I need help.”
“Help is here.”
“How do I enter the Conley-White database?”
“I do not recognize ‘the Conley-White database.’ ”
That made sense, Sanders thought. Cherry’s team wouldn’t have programmed anything about Conley-White into the Help system. He would have to phrase the question more generally. Sanders said, “Angel: I am looking for a database.”
“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 DB. 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’s 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