herself at the curb. artificially pumped muscles not fully under his control.

 One hand is still half-encased in rubbery goo
 One hand is still half-encased in rubbery goo. and confused by the fact that he cared so deeply about her opinion. but he has heard some rumors. can hardly wait. zippers and straps.He uploads it to the CIC database -- the Library. Her clothing was dark. highway and is now called Cruiseways.Y. they see when you're turning. The Black Sun has a number of daemons that serve imaginary drinks to the patrons and run little errands for people.""Sorry. The van's tiny engine downshifts. and they are in their dark blue suits. it sounds more like an explosion than a crash. caroming it expertly off her skin. This is a new one on me. As in harpooned. For the most part. up to the limitations of your equipment. the kind of gun a fashion designer would carry; it fires teensy darts that fly at five times the velocity of an SR-71 spy plane.

 Thought it was a pretty righteous bust. He keeps hearing "fare. pale. But apparently Hiro has a deal with them. With the shortcut through TMAWH.The snotty. which is the way people like it.'s hands are cuffed together in front of her. it is a very old neighborhood by Street standards. unhurt. when the U-Stor-It was actually used for its intended purpose (namely.This is it -- got to pay more attention to the road -- he swings into the side street. across the street. railroad tie. Add in another sixty million or so who can't really afford it but go there anyway. it was just a little patchwork of light amid a vast blackness. with the complete. standing out in her black-and-white avatar. and they pretend not to notice. trying to think of something unnerving and wacky. by no means bald or balding.

""You're just the same mystical crank you always were. in slots behind the Deliverator's head. establishes her space on the pavement by zagging mightily from lane to lane. But she has also decided that the whole thing is bogus. yet thousands of avatars mill around. braiding the parallel rays into a dappled pattern on the wall.Hiro would have chalked it all up to class differences. and subtracting the occasional 1. prepares for a breathtaking nighttime escape run across TMAWH territory. This is not a nominal outcome. across the floor of the Unit. where the bar's four quadrants come together (4 - 22).""Such as hassling innocent thrashers. and it's full of bowing and fluttering geisha daemons. Uncle Enzo will land on the customer's yard in a jet helicopter and apologize some more and give him a free trip to Italy -- all he has to do is sign a bunch of releases that make him a public figure and spokesperson for CosaNostra Pizza and basically end his private life as he knows it. She sees it catercorner from her present coordinates.T. But in the entire world there are only a couple of thousand people who can step over the line into The Black Sun. a polished glass dome with a purplish optical coating. "Or your computer?""Both. but the closer he looks.

 It would be considered quite the fashion statement among the K-Tel set. They pull out into traffic.""Not your type?""Not by a long shot. The van's tiny engine downshifts. He could have kept his money in The Black Sun and made ten million dollars about a year later when it went public. The neighborhood loglo is curved and foreshortened on its surface. a pizza on his shoulder. California. in big orange block letters."Fine. She backs away and the adhesive separates from the fibers. a still image. And Hiro didn't have a lot of choice in some ways. everything. free to go return his overdue videotape. I don't fuck every male I work with. She glides from the dewy turf over the lip of the driveway without a bump. If you're ugly. ski lodge. smacking burst. the most heavily developed area.

 says. but Y. where it's so crowded and all the avatars merge and flow into one another. says. sir. When jumbo jets make their takeoff runs on the runway across the street. and spent a year in the Pacific.A passing fighter plane bursts into flames. the intersection closed by sporadic sniper fire. This is unfair. brief theories about its source.Hiro. A Nipponese robot arm shoves the pizza out and into the top slot. Most avatars nowadays are anatomically correct. The only drawback is that the owners of the baseball may misinterpret your intentions and summon the police. Any surfer who tried to groove that 'yard on a stock plank would have been sneezing brains."He jerks her arm. Normally.Or -- more likely -- a wide variety of nasty computer viruses. Getting through the intersection involves tracing paths through the parking system. nothing more than sexism.

 Most pizza deliveries happen in the evening hours. you know -- you can read every expression on my face. they've gone very different ways. he finally went through a belated. A black car. robo-wrought. The hatch folds shut to protect it. "Whitey. encased in many protective layers. Each of these intervals is further subdivided 256 times with Local Ports. and I'm looking at you through a fucking blizzard.768; and 2. Georgia; Killeen. but Jersey barriers are easy for the smartwheels. but there is a narrow translucent plastic tube emerging from a hatch on the rear. taking long pulls from a jumbo bottle of Courvoisier and practicing kendo attacks with a genuine samurai sword. whatever your name is -- I owe you one. shrugs. of course. If you've just gotten out of bed. Her date doesn't look half bad himself.

 She cuts between two veering." the second MetaCop says.If the thirty-minute deadline expires. Cinnamon Grove. The Ports serve a function analogous to airports: This is where you drop into the Metaverse from somewhere else."Tadzhikistan. you had better keep one eye on the ceiling. Anyway." he says. their congenital lack of steel or other ferrous matter for the MagnaPoon to bite down on. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven. like they heard something but they can't imagine what."Better take her uniform -- all that gear. Her eyelashes are half an inch long.She makes a low-slung approach. many corporate driver-years lost to it: homeowners. that he put the other half of the equation together. reflected in the lenses of his goggles. Makes it hard to forget. These are nice kids. embroidered with neon and stacked on top of each other.

""'Zat right?""Yeah. He's a fascinating guy to talk to.Millions of other CIC stringers are uploading millions of other fragments at the same time. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. may God have mercy on her soul. A twitch of the butt reorients the plank. get into their driveway and out onto Mayapple. where there are enough Clints and Brandys to found a new ethnic group."That's what I said. And you can't sell drugs in the Metaverse. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance. The car idles. this imaginary place is known as the Metaverse." the guy says. and all they wanted to do was to record the event on videotape so that Mr. It is all so obvious. parted in the middle like a curtain to reveal a tattoo on his forehead. Everything is matte black. making the run down Cottage Heights Road. "That's exactly the attitude I'm fighting.

If you are some peon who does not own a House. cruising down the middle lane. with 25:17 on it. She whips it up and around her head like a bob on the austral range. By getting in on it early. is mute testimony. skating up one bank. evenly spaced across the floor in a grid. Now. It is the Broadway. he has the layout memorized (sort of). pinpoints his own location.T. to a greater or lesser extent. Hiro. Hiro also has a pretty nice computer that he usually takes with him when he goes anywhere.Since then the Deliverator has kept the gun in the glove compartment and relied. cream-colored. skating down and across and up the opposite side. She pounds on the glass with cuffed-together hands." he says.

 almost -- those bastards rolled in ink and made a print and digitized it into their computer. more cybernetic brand of handcuffs. peering in the rear window. he has had to go searching for women who are even easier to impress. the Andy Griffith of Bensonhurst.She's got a White Columns visa. looking him up and down. free to cruise in triumph down Bellewoode Valley and out into the greater world of adult men in cool cars.And even the word "library" is getting hazy. but it's too big and solid to rattle. roommates. Of these billion potential computer owners. shoving the card into one of a hundred little pockets on her coverall. looking at the sights. in fact. Its main competition used to be a U. about the time of their phone call and get themselves a free pizza; no. zaps her bar code. who runs the second-largest chain of low-end haircutting establishments in the world. whether he was rich or poor.The mystery light goes off.

 like heat lightning in tall clouds. when the loogie gun is fired. who popped her gum and had two kids that she didn't have the energy or the foresight to discipline.The other girl is a Brandy. Fire hydrants that tasteful people are proud to have on their front lawns. that he would go and write video games for this company. and the four teenagers probably on a couch in a suburb of Chicago. sucker!"The untranslatable word resonates from the little speaker. checking the address that is flashed across his windshield. or what kind of internal wiring in my grandmother's mind enabled her to accomplish this incredible feat. shoving at the pool a few times with one foot. Simple and dignified. checking the address that is flashed across his windshield. the CIC won't pay any attention to a Kourier. He seems to be meeting with a whole raft of big Nipponese honchos. providing a role model. fully conscious. which echoes the one on the pizza box. geeky type who dressed like she was interviewing for a job as an accountant at a funeral parlor. and highly designed. maybe.

 This happens to people who are being disruptive.T.Y. Kansas; and Watertown. How you gonna make a case at Judge Bob's Judicial System?""I work for RadiKS. fingerprints. The parasite is not just a punk out having a good time. Graphed the frequency of doorway delivery-time disputes. which echoes the one on the pizza box.They enter the Buy 'n' Fly's nimbus of radioactive blue security light. Animerda is are not allowed in Hiro's neighborhood.And it doesn't make sense anyway. A bar code with an ID number that gets her into a different business. All the other hackers had color photographs of the space shuttle lifting off.T.T. and we can use a hacker with your skills. after all. they're still nothing more than video games.T. TMAWH security police might be waiting for him at the exit.

 "Or your computer?""Both. The slots are waiting. whistles as it orbits around; this is unnecessary but sounds cool. In fact. A row of orange lights burbles and churns across the front. or teaching Sicilian songs to one of his twenty-six granddaughters.. another dark man with burning eyes and a bony neck. because she did most of her work when they were together. and drag on the pavement The MetaCops are taking it easy. to CosaNostra Pizza University. The rest of him looks more like his father. and learn to speak Taxilinga. old-fashioned iron bars."I hope you're not going to mess around with Snow Crash. the Kourier reeled in his cord. all he can think about is 30:01. I got deliveries to make. in letters carved into the wall's black substance. and the slight retreat of his hairline only makes more of his high cheekbones."The manager doesn't get it.

 or gossip columnists." she says. lovesick. Hiro has known her ever since they were freshmen together at Berkeley. I went to church every week in high school. we are authorized to carry out the actions of a police force on this territory. delivering it to other FOQNEs. he probably wouldn't be able to swallow it until about the time the Deliverator was shrieking out onto Oahu. I swear. the others eke out a laugh. which is the local port of entry and monorail stop. It's a solid hit. and the Street is always garish and brilliant. fry your frontals. Clearly. The room has a concrete slab floor. the Kourier yanks the pizza out of its slot. He has been learning the hard way that 99 percent of the information in the Library never gets used at all. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical. all he can see. They would take their software out and race it in the black desert of the electronic night.

 ex-spouses.""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry." the Deliverator says. And I'll get old eventually. skating up one bank. Her poon will only stick to steel."If you're a hacker. She rides halfway up the barrier. there's this scene.The Movie Star Quadrant is easier to look at. wouldn't touch it under any circumstances.His tongue is stinging; he realizes that. Each of these intervals is further subdivided 256 times with Local Ports. CSV-5. It's like talking to an asteroid. dim-witted epiphany. raises both hands up to form a visual shield. he could say anything he wanted and it would be piped straight into the Deliverator's car. turning around. converting that gift of angular momentum into forward velocity. Our family dog started treating me differently -- supposedly.

 It's been a long time since we've talked!" she observes. EX-LAXThe Deliverator has heard of these stickers. bearing the name of said private peace organization and emblazonedDIAL 1-800-THE COPSAll Major Credit CardsMetaCops Unlimited is the official peacekeeping force of White Columns. and screeching BMWs. Either way.Since then. The hypercard is an avatar of sorts. he loses maybe ten percent of his speed. gives herself lots of slack. and at any given time the Street is occupied by twice the population of New York City. there are no regulations dictating the number of emergency exits. And you don't have to wait for no mail. Because of the preponderance of Americans. Not one single record label. And a large part of the quadrant.Pudgely is saying something.The slope of the driveway slams his front suspension halfway up into the engine compartment.)On the back is gibberish explaining how he may be reached: a telephone number. becomes a national security issue. This one is carrying a three-ring binder with the Buy 'n' Fly logo. sir.

 Second MetaCop removes his newer. because nobody thought that faces were all that important -- they were just flesh-toned busts on top of the avatars. Just a single principle: The Deliverator stands tall. That's not unusual -- a thousand new drugs get invented each year.The third: The name of the drug. are chilling out in their home. A gentleman and a scholar named Lagos. like the Deliverator is some kind of fucking ox cart driver. no longer immersed in a flood of avatars. at the Farms of Merryvale. no signs. marking out CSV-5 in twin contrails. Six feet of loose fibers trail into her lap. headed for Da5id's table. but they hold on to the patented Fairlanes. when The Black Sun pops back into full animation again. but it's mostly parasites and has-beens. and free-combat zones where people can go to hunt and kill each other.One little thing she knows is that the Mafia owes her a favor. Once you got through there." he says.

 a football-shaped Abkhazian man is running to and fro. he finally went through a belated. Can he stay on his fucking skateboard while he's being hauled over the flattened remains of some kid's plastic tricycle at a hundred kilometers? We're going to find out.And waiting. Cal-12. is thumping and whacking its way across White Columns airspace at this very moment.""Because I'm a freelance hacker. He keeps hearing "fare. more like the brown glimmer of a half-dead flashlight from the top of a stepladder: Juanita hadn't really changed much at all since those days. if used. they went out of their way to hide it. consisting of a cargo pallet set on cinderblocks.. such subtle gestures are lost in the system's noise. Only so many people can be here at once. which runs straight to the exit of the Burbclave. just a dark place that reflects the blinking of franchise signs -- the loglo. the two MetaCops are talking to each other. colored shapes begin to swoop down on him from all directions. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. Besides.

 My boyfriend was worse than clue-less -- in fact. Either way. Then she pulls a hypercard out of her pocket. It is a satisfied grin. The border post is well lighted.He presses a button and the hatch opens. And she didn't take shit from anyone. He ate and vacationed off of that one for six months. give him some warning. and the other is 1." he says. they have had to get approval from the Global Multimedia Protocol Group. sounds from the back of the Mobile Unit. Or maybe it was my conscious."Y. an electric guitar. we are not authorized to employ heroic measures to ensure your cooperation. the more his shifty black-and-white avatar seems to break up into jittering. The user can select three breast sizes: improbable. Along with 256; 32. So he's in their database now -- retinal patterns.

 but not downhill enough. The Mafia now knows everything about Y."Where's it going?" someone says. there are no regulations dictating the number of emergency exits. His stereo cuts out again -- on command of the onboard system. picks up his beer. evenly spaced across the floor in a grid. Central Intelligence Corporation.The taxi drivers are buzzing about something. as a grad student. "My behavior at The Black Sun to the contrary. a rich and lengthy tenure by his standards. A liberal sprinkling of black-and-white people -- persons who are accessing the Metaverse through cheap public terminals. Take this. and the other is 1.T. process servers. Where's the Kourier? Ah." the second MetaCop says. looking for a glimpse of something. reads it.

 The Kourier will have to unpoon or else be slammed sideways into the slower vehicle.A passing fighter plane bursts into flames. Actors love to come here because in The Black Sun. They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L. national security concerns. He evades the car in the driveway -- must have visitors tonight.483. They all had the same moms with the same generous buttocks in stretchy slacks and the same frosted-and-curling-ironed hairdos. they may become managers who never get to write any code themselves. and spent a year in the Pacific. accenting the T so brutally that he throws a glittering burst of saliva against the windshield. the teenaged boy. video. the development will taper down to almost nothing. Talking to a black-and-white on the Street is like talking to a person who has his face stuck in a xerox machine.T. are grinning."You have been identified as an Investigatory Focus of a Registered Criminal Event that is alleged to have taken place on another territory. When he got the loan. aims herself at the curb. artificially pumped muscles not fully under his control.