Adam snaps his fingers and his head opens up. You can see his brain. He touches the opening, grossly, and then snaps his fingers again. He then boots up, but nothing comes out, and finally he spits out a little vomit-colored ice-cube, which he holds up and stares at. Tamsin tells him it's a special offer, the "vomitomatic," or nano-termites in the lining of the throat that "freeze the waste." Handy, yet revolting. She holds out a steel bowl and they watch it slide around a bit, and then he blinks cutely up at her.
The Doctor and Rose step out into the ice and snow of Floor 500, and the Doctor notes that (a) the walls are not, in fact, made of gold; and that (b) Rose needs to get the hell out of there. "Tough," she says. The Doctor watches her step on ahead, into danger and learning, to get the information. He follows her, grimly.
In the Editor's room, he's watching the screens and starts talking immediately: "I started without you; this is fascinating. Satellite Five contains every piece of information within the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Birth certificates, shopping habits, bank statements, but you two...you don't exist!" Rose and the Doctor stare. The Doctor doesn't burst into tears this time because he's being hardcore. "Not a trace!" the Editor laughs. "No birth, no job, not the slightest kiss. How can you walk through the world, and not leave a single footprint?" Rose sees Eva, and runs to her, but Eva doesn't respond. "Hello? Can you hear me? Suki?" Rose turns to the Editor, demanding to know what he's done. "I think she's dead," says the Doctor. Rose protests: "She's working..." The Doctor explains that they've all got their chips, and that the chips keep them going, like puppets, on message. The Editor laughs: "Ohhhh! You're full of information! But it's only fair we get information back, because, apparently, you're no one." The Editor giggles, and the Doctor nods, kind of rolling his eyes. "It's so rare not to know something!" yells the Editor. "Who are you?" They always ask, and he never says. "Doesn't matter," the Doctor answers, "'cause we're off. Nice to meet you." The Doctor calls Rose over, and they try to leave, but the corpses grab for them. The Editor yells some more, but the Doctor points out that their personal information is what's keeping them alive, so they're going to sit on it. "Perhaps my Editor-In-Chief can convince you otherwise," says the Editor. Why? "It may interest you to know that this is not the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire: in fact, it's not actually human at all. It's merely a place where humans happen to live." The beast roars. "Yeah, sorry. It's a place where humans are allowed to live, by the kind permission of my client." He snaps his fingers and points up, and we finally see the demiurge: a slobbering puddle, a lump of beast with one grotesque mouth all sharp teeth and snarling. Like if you took the face inside the face of the Alien alien, and stuck it on Lady Cassandra. Rose and Doctor give some Excellent Questions of the "What the hell?" type. "That 'Thing,' as you put it, is in charge of the human race," the Editor tells them. And he is the "Thing"'s Archon: "For almost a hundred years, mankind has been shaped and guided, his knowledge and ambition strictly controlled by its broadcast news. Edited by my superior, your master, and humanity's guiding light...the mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe." The Jagrafess roars. "I call him Max." The Doctor smiles, sarcastically, and nods.