Will scanned the working execs surreptitiously as he and Porky scooted the glider of paint canisters and the tall Northern Sun paint-sprayer down the hall, following the security man. In small cubicles and dimly lit offices, the look was much the same. Men with narrow shoulders and women with narrow waists worked the corporate net. letting their fingers fly without apparent attention across smudged keyboards. They stared intently into flat vidscreens, and mumbled halfconversations into the wiremikes every one of them wore. Gray-green terminal lights reflected in the whites of their eyes, giving them all an unholy, orkish glare. Only one man. a dark-haired exec, glanced directly at Will as they stopped in front of Yoshimura's office.