It's been three cycles since Bob realized what this place is. He's searching with a purpose, now, following the data-tracks to see where they converge, looking for where they come in and go out. Eventually, one of them has to lead to an input/output port.
This isn't going to be easy, even when Bob does find the I/O port. No one in his world has ever figured out a way to contact the User directly. And even if he manages it, there's no telling when, how, or if the User will answer back.
But what choice does Bob have?
The data flows are getting more concentrated. He has to be close. And then, suddenly, there it is--a dense stream of data, like an inverted waterfall, streaming out of the floor and into a floating receptacle to be directed onto the data-tracks.
It's fast and incredibly complex. Bob couldn't hope to manipulate the bits as they go by. But maybe...
Glitch: shield. His left hand morphs into a wide, circular platter--just wide enough to--yes! It blocks the data flow completely if he puts his arm into the stream. Bob pulls his arm out, then puts it back in again, in a beat as regular as any clock. He makes a pattern of thirty-two beats repeated over and over.
Off on off off on off off off. Off on off off off on off on. Off on off off on on off off. Off on off on off off off off.
01001000. 01000101. 01001100. 01010000.
H. E. L. P.