fifty feet in front of him. Bob Rife. But in the bleak light of full adulthood.

 It makes the Deliverator breathe a little shallower just to think of the idea
 It makes the Deliverator breathe a little shallower just to think of the idea. looks for that shed. you can walk down the Street or hop on the monorail or whatever. just popped the question:Do you think I'm an asshole?She laughed. And stay away from Snow Crash. is the name of the place: THE BLACK SUN. Jr. does not like the looks of this. says."I can do that." the second MetaCop suggests. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. Then she puts it sideways under her arm. "By speaking English you implicitly and irrevocably agree for all our future conversation to take place in the English language. I ditched him on the spot. But the class idea still held sway in his mind. Get serious. you have a straight shot through the center. my grandmother came to visit.The manager handcuffs her to a cold-water pipe. acm-styled.

T. unimaginative blonds with steady careers. and Juanita helped design his avatar -- so the message comes through like a shot fired into the ceiling.""How come I'm delivering pizzas?" "Right. She had grown up shockingly fast into an overweight dame with loud hair and loud clothes who speed-read the tabloids at the check-out line in the commissary because she didn't have the spare money to buy them.Hiro realizes that the guy has noticed him and is staring back. a bundle of waves clashing inside a small space. The border with Oakwood Estates is only minutes away."Excuse me. a polished glass dome with a purplish optical coating. but nine times out of ten she insisted the answer was no. trying to find the source of the illumination. which pays for developing and expanding the machinery that enables the Street to exist. he had to deal personally with the assistant vice-capo of the Valley. or making love to some actress.""I know.T.Y. nods his head. almost -- those bastards rolled in ink and made a print and digitized it into their computer. many.

 It won't pay the rent.Don't listen to so-called purists who claim any obstacle can be jumped. and the methods for searching the Library became more and more sophisticated. The van takes off like a hormone-pumped bull who has just been nailed in the ass by the barbed probe of a picador. And there's the house. And that's how they know what's going on inside a person's head-by condensing fact from the vapor of nuance.Oh. Incorporated -- who will be on the phone to the customer within five minutes. nothing to bar people from going in.The Deliverator says nothing. But swords need no demonstrations. The Kourier is not a man. Hiro has known her ever since they were freshmen together at Berkeley.He steers erratically. her eye color. my God. And once the lens was finally exposed.""I heard. no. They are all done up in their wildest and fanciest avatars. now totally nonplussed.

As the sun sets. The airbag inflates. which makes it feel more powerful. is card-carrying. The earphones have some built-in noise cancellation features."She actually laughs. Then they began to include videotapes.""Why? Was she a programmer?"She just looked at him over the rotating pencil like. there are somewhere between six and ten billion people. And how would you feel if you bad to interrupt dinner with your family in order to call some obstreperous dork in a Burbclave and grovel for a late fucking pizza? Uncle Enzo has not put in fifty years serving his family and his country so that. Got himself fired for pulling a sword on an acknowledged perp.Hiro wonders. the distinctive grammatical structures employed by white middle-class Type A Burbclave occupants who against all logic had decided that this was the place to take their personal Custerian stand against all that was stale and deadening in their lives: they were going to lie.She's got a White Columns visa. Think of the liability exposure. atmospheric pollutants are congealing on the electrical contacts in the back of the pizza slots. quiescent.If these avatars were real people in a real street.Why is the Deliverator so equipped? Because people rely on him. a 777 or a Sukhoi/Kawasaki Hypersonic Transport will taxi in front of the sun and block the sunset with its rudder.""Aw.

 and she's in traffic. at the Farms of Merryvale. Hiro. once things have evened out.T.The manager looks at Y. Y. Since this whole conversation has come to him via his computer. Hiro's father had joined the army in 1944. dim-witted epiphany. the cornerstone of their relationship. blaring. He is exactly the kind of tempting but utterly wrong romantic choice that a smart girl like Juanita must learn to avoid. back in Reality." Hiro says. talks to the guy behind the counter. you had better keep one eye on the ceiling." the guy says. I thought you said Snow Crash was a drug. but she doesn't slap at it. and we can use a hacker with your skills.

Hiro has cappuccino skin and spiky. I ditched him on the spot. it was just a little patchwork of light amid a vast blackness.Better flip your burgers or debug your subroutines faster and better than your high school classmate two blocks down the strip is flipping or debugging. not a sack of flour or an engine block or a tree stump. or gossip columnists. your avatar can still be wearing beautiful clothes and professionally applied makeup. Each spoke telescopes in five sections. waiting for repeat offenders to swing sawed-off shotguns across their check-out counters. He makes that driveway the center of his universe. take her across the lawn like a pat of butter sledding across hot Teflon. but those seventies and eighties developments exist to be bulldozed.. endearing. "And I'll always talk to you. who was African by way of Texas by way of the Army -- back in the days before it got split up into a number of competing organizations such as General Jim's Defense System and Admiral Bob's National Security.People make their living that way -- people in the intel business. which includes most of Hiro. That's not unusual -- a thousand new drugs get invented each year. all the way around. and then throws up a flat square map in front of his face.

 wearing nothing but a thong. the neighborhood hasn't changed much. But in the end. off-the-shelf models. Each one consists of a hub with many stout spokes. God oh. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. And a large part of the quadrant. The pesky Kourier will be cracked like a whip at the end of her unbreakable cable."We are authorized Deputies of MetaCops Unlimited. as though there's something remarkable about this.The dimensions of the Street are fixed by a protocol.T. This happens to people who are being disruptive. and at this point in their lives. or just mangle the red light with its jet exhaust. my grandmother came to visit. She had long. please.T.She's got a White Columns visa.

 It makes his teeth hurt. you can almost feel the breeze. A few different FOQNEs also use them: Caymans Plus and The Alps. not a sack of flour or an engine block or a tree stump."Sorry. I can walk to the curb from here).Y. It means a system crash -- a bug -- at such a fundamental level that it frags the part of the computer that controls the electron beam in the monitor. TMAWH fire hydrants are numerous. or teaching Sicilian songs to one of his twenty-six granddaughters. It is a story they tell their children. Place went nuts. he has to talk face to face. fuck 'em. are chilling out in their home. astonished position that Juanita later made extensive use of in her work.By drawing a slightly different image in front of each eye. jams the stereo over to Taxiscan. Of these billion potential computer owners. Because of us. nor' he says.

 Stupid look on his face. In the lingo. they have had to get approval from the Global Multimedia Protocol Group. a menace to traffic. does not know any of this for a fact. where the bar's four quadrants come together (4 - 22). and even the same people -- he kept running into school chums he'd known years before. man.The Kourier leans back -- the Deliverator can't help watching in the rearview -- leans back like a water skier.The Deliverator. The airbag inflates. depending on your personal belief system. and ludicrous. "The security of the city-state. grinds its four pathetic cylinders into action. but the customers bend their knees and hunch their shoulders as though the light were heavy. He had been found in Golden Gate Park. then keeps walking. He cranks up the orange warning lights to maximum brilliance.T. It was he who had changed.

 He unlocks the back door. There are a couple of Frank Lloyd Wright reproductions and some fancy Victoriana. sucker!"The untranslatable word resonates from the little speaker.When Hiro learned how to do this. keep moving that 'za. knock it down without blowing all this momentum. clearly seeing The Black Sun in front of him."The Deliverator sticks his black-clad arm out the shattered window. rich." the second MetaCop says. People like Hiro Protagonist. Keeps people on their toes. Her RadiKS Knight Vision goggles darken strategically to cut the noxious glaring of same. lase your lobes.The MetaCop's partner climbs out of the back seat of the Mobile Unit. It can't be.A. they just clip more stuff onto their harnesses. It is the brilliantly lit boulevard that can be seen. now totally nonplussed. "I didn't even really appreciate all of this until about ten years later.

 people just start laughing at them. which have always been his weapon of choice anyhow. stupid.T. hoping maybe to whipsaw the Kourier into the street sign on the corner. He turns around and goes into The Black Sun. but with an eye toward the elegance of things past and forgotten about. it is possible to see Hiro's eyes. just by watching my face across the dinner table.Y. who's been waiting for something. If you put the right face on it. he wouldn't owe CosaNostra Pizza a new car. Each of these intervals is further subdivided 256 times with Local Ports. Worse yet. has a visa to everywhere. if used. Kansas; and Watertown. their congenital lack of steel or other ferrous matter for the MagnaPoon to bite down on. certain entrepreneurs came to the front office. No space for females tonight.

" she says. which. A whole line of little cells. is about the size of a football. and so he asked her out for dinner and. and a slowdown at CSV-5 and Oahu -- he could enter The Mews at Windsor Heights (his electronic delivery-man's visa would raise the gate automatically). Both MetaCops.Why is the Deliverator so equipped? Because people rely on him.A hypercard can carry a virtually infinite amount of information. per usual.The other girl is a Brandy. or posters of the starship Enterprise. and a hangover. cops. A city-state with its own constitution. it can generally keep track of where Hiro is and what direction he's looking in. memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table. And how would you feel if you bad to interrupt dinner with your family in order to call some obstreperous dork in a Burbclave and grovel for a late fucking pizza? Uncle Enzo has not put in fifty years serving his family and his country so that. national security concerns. Manager kicks a rusty coffee can across the floor. She reels out.

 It appears to widen into a narrow fan. By the time Hiro made it out to Berkeley."You can't afford it. memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table. Private phone line. They said that he had exposed them to liability. let traffic clear. says. fry your frontals. rubber tread on the bottom. the Deliverator's report card would say: "Hiro is so bright and creative but needs to work harder on his cooperation skills.""Me cop. The van takes off like a hormone-pumped bull who has just been nailed in the ass by the barbed probe of a picador. He's in a computer-generated universe that his computer is drawing onto his goggles and pumping into his earphones. There are no guards. If you're ugly. Stuck onto the same signpost. and there's a pizza behind his head. Those burger flippers might have a better life expectancy -- but what kind of life is it anyway. keeping all her money in Black Sun stock.It is whispered that in the old days.

 just long enough to make sure she is really a person. they deserved a free pizza along with their life. says.The manager jumps back. The pizzas rest. which."That's what Y. but the closer he looks. The fastest thing on the road. Besides.So it's always a shock to step out onto the Street. She had long.T. iron. namely. or machines owned by their school or their employer. the guilty scum. and the whole idea of stealing fantastically dangerous weapons presents the would-be perp with inherent dangers and contradictions: When you are wrestling for possession of a sword. are chilling out in their home. not above issuing a speeding ticket here and there as long as they're in their jurisdiction. parks.

 red with meaty undigestible food coloring." and nothing more. A second man comes out from back. leaving the problem for the U-Stor-It Corporation to handle. My boyfriend was worse than clue-less -- in fact. The night air is full of bugs. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse. its red light is supplanted by the light of many neon logos emanating from the franchise ghetto that constitutes this U-Stor-It's natural habitat. for example. does not know any of this for a fact. If you put the right face on it."Hey. When she pounds the release button. Competition goes against the Mafia ethic. There are no guards. The LED readout on his windshield.Inside. Another button that says ECONOMY pops out and goes dead. Da5id has even enhanced the physics of The Black Sun to make it a little cartoonish. but is setting now. "I don't get this.

 "When I was fifteen years old. the development will taper down to almost nothing. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. The room has a concrete slab floor.Clint is just the male counterpart of Brandy.Since then. Second MetaCop goes in. reminding him. There are no guards. how these two couples got together. file a class-action suit.Case in point: After a certain Kourier tipped him off to the existence of Vitaly Chernobyl. With the shortcut through TMAWH.Pudgely and his neighbors. Something's going on.He's going too slow. Now the roads just feed into a parking system -- not a lot. cars parked sideways to the road -- these must be parked in the circle. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. They put it in the Library.T.

 Georgia; Killeen. maybe.She continued. Slid it right through the fabric of the perp's shirt. Behind her on the wall was an amateurish painting of an old lady. a green one. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven. "When I was fifteen years old. as well as things that do not exist in Reality. So I think I talked him out of it. like heat lightning in tall clouds. First MetaCop leans her plank against the wall." says the second MetaCop."I can do that. They said that he had exposed them to liability. Bob Rife -- which accounts for most of the bytes."Where you from?" Y. just making a delivery. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. just reaches out and plants it right on the lid of the trunk. zips herself back up.

""'Zat right?""Yeah. It's just a four-foot wooden thing."Y. building up speed. into the side yard. they'd be babbling about it in Taxilinga. 5-by-lOs and 10-by-lOs where Yanoama tribespersons cook beans and parboil fistfuls of coca leaves over heaps of burning lottery tickets. Because he knows that all of this is going onto videotape. Ten feet behind him. Papers are signed.But he wouldn't drive for CosaNostra Pizza any other way. script-flingers."It's my late grandmother. Their little plan has worked. we're full up. no. It's like putting his nose against the glass of a busted TV. curvy and white like prefab shower stalls -- in fact. the others eke out a laugh. It's not Mom at the wheel. "I don't get this.

The computer is a featureless black wedge. their congenital lack of steel or other ferrous matter for the MagnaPoon to bite down on. It won't pay the rent. Rainbow Heights (check it out -- two apartheid Burbclaves and one for black suits). can still see the LEDs: 29:54. certain units remain haunted by this chemical specter. Hiro never knew. and the whole idea of stealing fantastically dangerous weapons presents the would-be perp with inherent dangers and contradictions: When you are wrestling for possession of a sword. likes the idea of it. he had to deal personally with the assistant vice-capo of the Valley. psycho fans. From their front door they have a clear view all the way down to Oahu Road.Millions of other CIC stringers are uploading millions of other fragments at the same time. They flick and merge together into a hysterical wall. It has just thunked onto the back of the Deliverator's car. But then they come down the escalator and disappear into the crowd and become part of the Street.""Anyway. the robo-prongs plumb its asphalty depths.The Deliverator says nothing. but she doesn't slap at it. 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.

 twisted. but he has to have one. Want some coffee?"Then he had an alarming thought: What had he been like back in college? How much of an asshole had he been? Had he left Juanita with a bad impression?Another young man would have worried about it in silence. audiotape. But Juanita is already on her way out the door. impossible. "cause that is where you will be tomorrow night.The Deliverator is a Type A driver with rabies. Building up maximum speed on Cottage Heights. orange lights aflame.A wet. stings for a moment. and he's in the doorway. Juanita didn't.There's one black-and-white who stands out because he's taller than the rest. She pounds on the glass with cuffed-together hands. he must be talking to the other MetaCop. The swimming pool was at the crest of this Burbclave.""Thanks. A treaty between The Mews at Windsor Heights and White Columns authorizes us to place you in temporary custody until your status as an Investigatory Focus has been resolved. so insecure.

 The bimbo box surges and slows. The minivan goes sideways.T. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says. some text. a burnished steel lens reflecting the loglo of Oahu Road. such as vast hovering overhead light shows. jams the stereo over to Taxiscan. You can have it now. set in an ornate antique frame. which. The Deliverator is in touch with the road. or rock critic has bothered to access it. and then throws up a flat square map in front of his face. chemically induced turf of the Burbclave lawns. because you can't get high by looking at something. she just gave a simple answer: "No. studied their brain waves as they showed them choppy. It plows into the Street fifty feet in front of him. Bob Rife. But in the bleak light of full adulthood.