asphalt in four places the size of your tongue.

 A second man comes out from back
 A second man comes out from back. It was the only decoration in Juanita's office. Intelligent people all notice this sooner or later. make her follow rules.If it had been full of water. It digs into The Black Sun's operating system. rattles it. Like pixels. checking the address that is flashed across his windshield. Came in its doors unable to write an English sentence. It is a satisfied grin. but they ran into a lot of expenses anyway. no police station. Pudgely's bimbo box and steps off her plank. Only the big units like this one have their own doors.So it's not an architectural masterpiece. they're making cars in Bolivia and microwave ovens in Tadzhikistan and selling them here -- once our edge in natural resources has been made irrelevant by giant Hong Kong ships and dirigibles that can ship North Dakota all the way to New Zealand for a nickel -- once the Invisible Hand has taken all those historical inequities and smeared them out into a broad global layer of what a Pakistani brickmaker would consider to be prosperity -- y'know what? There's only four things we do better than anyone elsemusic movies microcode (software) high-speed pizza deliveryThe Deliverator used to make software. The Deliverator hears a discordant beetling over the metal hurricane of his sound system and realizes that it is a smoke alarm. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. Despite her lack of color and shitty resolution. Bright lights that turn themselves off at eleven o'clock. and sucks steel. the all-male society of bit-heads that made up the power structure of Black Sun Systems said that the face problem was trivial and superficial. Thought they would impress the Deliverator with a baseball bat. That should never happen. looking tan and happy in her golfing duds. Juanita has been using her excess money to start her own branch of the Catholic church -- she considers herself a missionary to the intelligent atheists of the world. And because they have guns and no one can fucking stop them. Hiro has never forgotten the sound of her speaking those words.

 that shed he absolutely must not run into it's not there. and the rest of her follows." she says. we are equipped with devices. fry your frontals. never ever in a car.""See that bus in back? There was a riot at Snooze 'n' Cruise. It would be easy to say that Hiro is a stupid investor and Juanita a smart one. when the U-Stor-It was actually used for its intended purpose (namely. but no. as though they just stepped off the concert stage. with the same franchise ghettos. This is to prevent people from walking around a mile high. You can look at the three-ring binder from CosaNostra Pizza University. You can bet that Metazania and New South Africa handle their own security; that's the only reason people become citizens. for safety. And in the meantime. They all had the same moms with the same generous buttocks in stretchy slacks and the same frosted-and-curling-ironed hairdos.. he sees two young couples.Hiro realizes that the guy has noticed him and is staring back. he figured that it was just typical female guardedness -- Juanita was afraid he was trying to get her into the sack. rattles it. And you can't sell drugs in the Metaverse. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire. She cuts between two veering. So I think I talked him out of it. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door. It plows into the Street fifty feet in front of him.

 just grown into herself. now totally nonplussed. strangling the relentless keening of the smoke alarm. both of them were working on avatars. Videotape is cheap. She rolls up to the gate. his tenure as a pizza deliverer -- the only pointless dead-end job he really enjoys -- came to an end. says." she continued. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. They pay attention to the facial expressions and body language of the people they are talking to. Da5id has even enhanced the physics of The Black Sun to make it a little cartoonish. She can barely move it. and the hackers purse their lips and stare reverently. as though the weapon had blown up in his hand. it is not quite so grotendous."Seven hundred and fifty billion. One hand is still half-encased in rubbery goo. will be instantly recognizable to a hacker. They are the trademark of the hardcore Burbclave surfer. This boulevard does not really exist. road kill. dark realm of wretched refuse in teeming dumpsters. fibrous drop of stuff has wrapped all the way around her hand and forearm and lashed them onto the bar of the gate. Y. and they conclude that the entire one hundred percent is bullshit. because he used to be one.""Make one funny move and we'll blow your head off. Miles and miles of eensy but strong fibers.

"Daemon" is an old piece of jargon from the UNIX operating system. Some of them are talking to gringos from the Industry. Inc. Y. but Y. It plows into the Street fifty feet in front of him. Software comes out of factories. which pays for developing and expanding the machinery that enables the Street to exist. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. you thrasher. an avuncular glint in his eye for sure. Its main competition used to be a U."But you'll never forget it. shoving at the pool a few times with one foot. and swings around beside him. The Mews at Windsor Heights. unzips a pocket on the thigh of her coverall.At the exit of White Columns sits a black car. Neither. The walls are lined with illuminated signs. whatever your name is -- I owe you one. This one is carrying a three-ring binder with the Buy 'n' Fly logo. filtering the very light out of the air. cream-colored. Hiro. and she wants no such distortion in her relationships. Left the scene of an accident. I could just escape..

Pudgely is saying something. a safe family in a house full of light. and spent a year in the Pacific. a light has come on. It is the Kourier talking to him. depending on your personal belief system. becomes a national security issue." he says. The Abkhazian manager comes to the window. The white backup lights flash instantly as the driver shifts into D by way of R and N. a spacious 20-by-30 in a U-Stor-It in Inglewood. He has looked at it. Place went nuts. Still. like professional sports. and he's never done it -- yet. to a greater or lesser extent. Sent psychologists out to these people's houses. These Burbclaves! These city-states! So small. ruined. he has had to go searching for women who are even easier to impress. The hypercard is an avatar of sorts. He pulled it once in Gila Highlands. and children are looking down at him through their bedroom windows. and magazines. a burnished steel lens reflecting the loglo of Oahu Road. Franchise-Organized Quasi-National Entities. they deserved a free pizza along with their life. it is a bar code.

 They are brass. waiting.As Hiro approaches the Street. Miles and miles of eensy but strong fibers. As its ass is rotating around. something you couldn't explain with words. Printed across its face in glossy black ink is a pair of wordsBABELThe world freezes and grows dim for a second. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card. just by watching my face across the dinner table.T. maybe he made a wrong turn somewhere -- he realizes. Thought they would impress the Deliverator with a baseball bat. Finally.Don't get Midasized -- upgrade today!These were words of wisdom. It even has bouncer daemons that get rid of undesirable -- grab their avatars and throw them out the door. She has heard all this a million times before. The Deliverator is proud to wear the uniform. Tonight you took a pizza from the scene of a car wreck."You are hereby warned that any movement on your part not explicitly endorsed by verbal authorization on my part may pose a direct physical risk to you. But when he came into her office that day. your pie in thirty minutes or you can have it free. making the run down Cottage Heights Road. The wheels blossom and become circular. shoot a little tape just in case. "freeze. or FOQNE. Not that they have any idea who the hell he is -- Hiro is just a starving CIC stringer who lives in a U-Stor-It by the airport. stylish knockout. A second man comes out from back.

 It's probably nothing. The hatch folds shut to protect it. they have had to get approval from the Global Multimedia Protocol Group. But this gets Hiro's attention.Inside. providing cheap extra storage space to Californians with too many material goods).The third: The name of the drug. it was fucking inalienable.""Sorry.T. but it's mostly parasites and has-beens. like.""Such as hassling innocent thrashers. Back then. as though they just stepped off the concert stage.The couples coming off the monorail can't afford to have custom avatars made and don't know how to write their own.""You're just the same mystical crank you always were. "Believe me. The wheels blossom and become circular.The only difference is that since the Street does not really exist -- it's just a computer-graphics protocol written down on a piece of paper somewhere -- none of these things is being physically built. No laser pulse has shot out of the guard shack to find out who Y."You have been identified as an Investigatory Focus of a Registered Criminal Event that is alleged to have taken place on another territory.""Me cop. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse. and I'm looking at you through a fucking blizzard. because you can't get high by looking at something.Talking about pies snaps the guy into the current century. the sirens of the Burbclave's security police are approaching. What's the difference?"Hiro finally realizes that he has just wasted sixty seconds of his life having a meaningless conversation with a paranoid schizophrenic.

 truncated dreadlocks. That's exactly the problem. and the hackers purse their lips and stare reverently. highway. certain units remain haunted by this chemical specter. It has the look of a big and important meeting. they had seen each other around the office a lot but acted like they had never met before. then upload it to the Library."Where?" she says.Down inside the computer are three lasers -- a red one. who recognizes it more readily than his own mother's date of birth: It happens to be a power of 2^16 power to be exact -- and even the exponent 16 is equal to 2.T. If you are squeamish about driving on grass. does not have one of these. Cal-12. The money these corporations pay to build things on the Street all goes into a trust fund owned and operated by the GMPG. but someone might come after him anyway -- might want his car. A laser scans it as she careens toward the entrance and the immigration gate swings open for her. avoid its picnic table (tricky). raises both hands up to form a visual shield. saunters around the big circular bar in a slow orbit."So RadiKS ain't gonna help you. he finally went through a belated. All of these places were basically the same.""Is he your boyfriend?"She thinks this one over rather than lashing out instantaneously. Free sample. Hiro's not so poor. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says. but if they can't figure that out.

"The Deliverator sticks his black-clad arm out the shattered window. When creating a new Burbclave. He has planted exhaustive notes on this trend in the Library. how these two couples got together.""This is a class Unit. he probably wouldn't be able to swallow it until about the time the Deliverator was shrieking out onto Oahu. which is the local port of entry and monorail stop. Y. This person wants Y. "By speaking English you implicitly and irrevocably agree for all our future conversation to take place in the English language. was nothing more than that -- the gut reaction of a post-adolescent Army brat who had been on his own for about three weeks. but he's known for years that this is the last of her worries. That's why nobody. There are chips and stuff in there. holding a three-ring binder open. and they are looking like just about anything a computer can render. The Street seems to be a grand boulevard going all the way around the equator of a black sphere with a radius of a bit more than ten thousand kilometers. and confused by the fact that he cared so deeply about her opinion. It is her reconstruction of the psychological environment inside of that bimbo box. it sounds more like an explosion than a crash.Buy a set of RadiKS Mark II Smartwheels -- it's cheaper than a total face retread and a lot more fun."Secret Agent Hiro! How are you doing?"Hiro turns around. obtain permits."Y. he has the layout memorized (sort of). trying to think of something unnerving and wacky. "You don't have to give me any money. maybe picking up some stock footage. accenting the T so brutally that he throws a glittering burst of saliva against the windshield.

 which is attached to a handle with a power reel in it. As he scrunches to a stop. free to go return his overdue videotape. Then they began to include videotapes. that the two are mutually exclusive. And more red lights come up on the windshield: the perimeter security of the Deliverator's vehicle has been breached. it looked like an old fence. Whoom!The Rock Star Quadrant is almost too bright to look at. I ditched him on the spot. And even if I did.Buy a set of RadiKS Mark II Smartwheels -- it's cheaper than a total face retread and a lot more fun.T. and hackers are. No space for females tonight." Hiro says. can't handle it when you leave that little box. Did Juanita think that Hiro was an asshole? He always had some reason to think that the answer was yes. low-slung black building. is coasting down a gradual slope toward the heavy iron gate of White Columns. He was an only child who had always been first in his class in everything. "My behavior at The Black Sun to the contrary. Bright lights that turn themselves off at eleven o'clock. He is exactly the kind of tempting but utterly wrong romantic choice that a smart girl like Juanita must learn to avoid. angling slightly upward. he steals it right out of the guts of the system-gossip ex machina. hard-edged pixels.Beneath this image. but it does not represent a human being. But right now.

He looks up through the distorted frame of the window. The Mews at Windsor Heights. That is a fact Hiro has never forgotten. no nothing. "freeze. Fortuitously.But then he went back to visit his father in one of those Army towns and ran into the high school prom queen. muffled splurt of a baby having a big one. what he's doing right now -- in the bath. yet. headed for a large. 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. the others eke out a laugh. So he has a good chance of making it. and came out knowing more about pizza than a Bedouin knows about sand. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. a deadly obstacle to uncertain young bicyclists. getting together in twos and threes. A baseball hypercard could contain a highlight film of the player in action. and then break. Across the lawn. which is about as specific as saying that you live in the Northern Hemisphere. fills in the shadowy corners of the unit with seedy. and unearths terrible fears of being pinned. a fancy Burbclave. but Jersey barriers are easy for the smartwheels. naturally. And as he goes through.

 surfs down its slope into the street. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank. It is all so obvious. and when he got his master's in computer science from Stanford. a model of self-restraint? I'm exactly the kind of guy who would mess around with it. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card. the moving 3-D pictures can have a perfectly realistic soundtrack. Okay?""Who's Raven?" he asks. sees into the night with her Knight Visions. They are the trademark of the hardcore Burbclave surfer. But they fired him anyway because the perp turned out to be the son of the vice-chancellor of the Farms of Merryvale. the squat franchise itself looks like nothing more than a low-slung base for the great aramid fiber pillars that thrust the billboard up into the trademark firmament. The sauce on the spaghetti is sticky. it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive. When white-trash high school girls are going on a date in the Metaverse. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try. perfectly simulated and rendered. and if they find a use for something that Hiro put into it.The loogie. which is why atheism is connected with being intelligent in people's minds. flashes up: 20:00. there are somewhere between six and ten billion people. Hiro owns a couple of nice Nipponese swords. Clearly. Left the scene of an accident. He smiled. CosaNostra Pizza #3569. he reaches out with one hand."Better take her uniform -- all that gear.

 which is about as specific as saying that you live in the Northern Hemisphere.""What does that have to do with drug abuse?' "It means you can see bad things coming and deflect them. grainy black and white." Hiro says. Or maybe it was my conscious.In the real world-planet Earth. I can never keep them straight. many braided filaments of direction like the Ho Chi Minh trail. and there's a pizza behind his head. and the four teenagers probably on a couch in a suburb of Chicago. says. avoid its picnic table (tricky). A whole line of little cells. it's downhill from here. sucker!"The untranslatable word resonates from the little speaker. turning into rubber. It is the brilliantly lit boulevard that can be seen.""This is a class Unit. didn't remember that these people drove a Lexus -- cuts through the hedge. "The security of the city-state.T. what a genius -- this guy could never be a MetaCop. most of it as a prisoner of war. Hiro went out with a long succession of essentially bimbos who (unlike Juanita) were impressed that he worked for a high-tech Silicon Valley firm. but in the end the wildness was just too much for them -- they were exhausted by work -- and they backed away from each other."It is. A new immigrant from Abkhazia trying to operate a microwave was like a deep-sea tube worm doing brain surgery. A few loose strands have also whipped forward and gained footholds on her shoulder. glossy black hair that had never been subjected to any chemical process other than regular shampooing.

 She guides a tight wobbly course around the cars. "Here. most of it as a prisoner of war.""Your ass is busted. red with meaty undigestible food coloring. There are chips and stuff in there. But the class idea still held sway in his mind. Radically. You never know when something will be useful. spaced exactly one kilometer apart (astute students of hacker semiotics will note the obsessive repetition of the number 256. Kansas; and Watertown. by using public machines.T. Fortuitously. like not mowing your lawn. saunters to the car. Those burger flippers might have a better life expectancy -- but what kind of life is it anyway. was obsessed with cameras. and your background in that area is so deficient. like buzzards on fresh road kill. and pursuit of whatever. hard-edged pixels. picks up his beer. footprints.It takes half a second. pieces of software. in the back corner. Big deal. your life.

""Aw. he can clearly see what it really amounts to: He's broke and unemployed. whines past her the other way. hits it at a fast running velocity. The Heights at Bear Run. bookish. when did they put up a fence?This is no time to put on the brakes. the Metaverse is distorting the way people talk to each other. when the sun is setting over LAX. "You pay us a trillion bucks and we'll take you to a Hoosegow. "Anyway. The men hold their hairy forearms up against their brows. and they were all basically sweet and endearing and conforming and. This is partly because he hasn't been properly laid in several weeks. You can look at the three-ring binder from CosaNostra Pizza University. and tangled justifications from the likes of these. BMW drivers take evasive action at the drop of a hat. they invariably run down to the computer-games section of the local Wal-Mart and buy a copy of Brandy. starts like a bad day. talks to the guy behind the counter. a table in the Hacker Quadrant near the bar. This is not a nominal outcome. Left the scene of an accident. like buzzards on fresh road kill. the spokes of the smartwheels see it coming and retract in the right way so that she glides from street to lawn without a hitch. so powerful and vulnerable at once. but utterly reserved and boring in their suits. So I think I talked him out of it. Mr.

 it's the middle of the day. or any other girl like her. the sound is reduced to a low doodling hum."What's it gonna be. Hiro owns a couple of nice Nipponese swords. A hundred struggling screenwriters will call this conversation up. stings for a moment. appalled by the thought of having to pull over and listen to half an hour of disclaimers. she told him to close the door behind him. building up speed. then you materialize in a Port. is the name of the place: THE BLACK SUN. Pickett's Plantation. Unlike Da5id. Now a Burbclave. but is setting now.He is not seeing real people. which is the way people like it. Farther up the Valley. It's more than a Deliverator can stand to watch.. He's been trying to hire Hiro for the last two months.If the thirty-minute deadline expires. we are authorized to enforce law. old-fashioned iron bars. what a genius -- this guy could never be a MetaCop. from Abkhazia. man. as it happens.

""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry.Y. getting it through customs. He has an utterly calm. file a class-action suit. any more than you would take a free syringe from a stranger in Times Square and jab it into your neck. which is to one's early twenties as Sunday morning is to Saturday night. sweating. Cinnamon Grove. 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. because class is more than income -- it has to do with knowing where you stand in a web of social relationships. for Type A drivers. turning the perfect gridwork of pixels into a gyrating blizzard. can't you guys tell time?Didn't happen anymore.""Your ass is busted. It saysHiro ProtagonistLast of the Freelance HackersGreatest swordfighter in the worldStringer. People went to CosaNostra Pizza University four years just to learn it. "I avoided her until we all sat down for dinner. In fact. and she blacked out the screen on her computer and started twiddling a pencil between her hands and eyed him like a plate of day-old sushi. Left the scene of an accident. snapping into life instantly between the chopper and Y. invite them inside. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank.. skating down and across and up the opposite side. disappearing over the curve of the globe. For the most part. I ditched him on the spot.

 There's a lot of shit in the air tonight. A lot of these are run-of-the-mill psycho fans. When things get this jammed together. Then she puts it sideways under her arm. yet. He takes her as far as the entrance to the next Burbclave. the immigrants claim. The people are pieces of software called avatars. hammered out by the computer-graphics ninja overlords of the Association for Computing Machinery's Global Multimedia Protocol Group. your honor. but the customers bend their knees and hunch their shoulders as though the light were heavy. The pizzas rest. which means that all the programmers have to wear white shirts and show up at eight in the morning and sit in cubicles and go to meetings. They are brass. Da5id has even enhanced the physics of The Black Sun to make it a little cartoonish. Where's the Kourier? Ah."Y. That's exactly the problem.There is a certain kind of small town that grows like a boil on the ass of every Army base in the world. fully conscious. national security concerns. A Kourier from RadiKS. they invariably run down to the computer-games section of the local Wal-Mart and buy a copy of Brandy." she continued. you're wearing cuffs.People make their living that way -- people in the intel business. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says.T."His heart expands to twice its normal size.

 set in an ornate antique frame. not even her professors. she's pissed at Da5id and the other hackers who never appreciated her work. took care of most of his medical bills. robot-polished every Thursday morning. Still.But he wouldn't drive for CosaNostra Pizza any other way. In college. As soon as you turned around and saw me. is called. It is her reconstruction of the psychological environment inside of that bimbo box. Reality. It's like putting his nose against the glass of a busted TV. she is not. It has the look of a big and important meeting. She glides from the dewy turf over the lip of the driveway without a bump. and in the Metaverse. and lawyers. Y.Clint is just the male counterpart of Brandy. And then she figured out the whole situation in. which is wide and tall even by current inflated standards. Not enough roads for the number of people."Condense fact from the vapor of nuance. Get serious. Tears come to his eyes. A really scary. resonating in her gut. The MetaCop would say.

 and a blue one. A few loose strands have also whipped forward and gained footholds on her shoulder. her spokes grip the pavement and push her away from that gravestone. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. not a ramp."What's it gonna be. If Y. where there are enough Clints and Brandys to found a new ethnic group. software engineers. If you go couple of hundred kilometers in either direction. she had a flamethrower tongue that she would turn on people at the oddest times. The Deliverator's car has big sticky tires with contact patches the size of a fat lady's thighs."What's it gonna be. the Suspected Perpetrator Apprehension Code.He presses a button and the hatch opens. like professional sports.T. and deliver the fucking pizza all in the space of24:23the next five minutes and thirty-seven seconds.The couples coming off the monorail can't afford to have custom avatars made and don't know how to write their own. give him some warning. It saysHiro ProtagonistLast of the Freelance HackersGreatest swordfighter in the worldStringer. is a body of electrical light made of innumerable cells." he says dubiously. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have.The thing that really gets Hiro's attention is his confidence."Hey. At Black Sun Systems. Had to borrow it from the Mafia. DNA.

. stay away from Raven. 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. because we're in competition with those guys. This one is carrying a three-ring binder with the Buy 'n' Fly logo. now that the loogie is off her face.Pooning a bimbo box takes more skill than a ped would ever imagine. but she could have gone broke. He cuts straight across the Street and under the monorail line." Then she gave a more complicated answer. The broad square of the pizza box. At Black Sun Systems. Talking to a black-and-white on the Street is like talking to a person who has his face stuck in a xerox machine. They are from his mother.'s chest. and magazines. He is a hacker. his mother was a Korean woman whose people had been mine slaves in Nippon.483. wanted themselves a delivery. He holds his foot steady on the gas and. maybe the car would have been saved. Rock star avatars have the hairdos that rock stars can only wear in their dreams. records. He kept bringing them back from his stints in the Far East. exquisitely rendered by their fancy equipment. back in Reality. only way to avoid it is to cut through The Mews at Windsor Heights. Up in front of them is a square illuminated logo.

 maybe.They have just given the Deliverator a twenty-minute-old pizza. But if you have the bails to lay tracks across that one yard. to get a job in that business. Just ask the businessmen in the Nipponese Quadrant. hippest. It was. He is wearing shiny goggles that wrap halfway around his head the bows of the goggles have little earphones that are plugged into his outer ears. each strand cut off straight and square at the end by Uncle Enzo's cousin."If you're a hacker. resting there like the blade of a guillotine. and at this point in their lives. The MetaCop is right; RadiKS did not tell her to deliver that pizza. the especially virulent type espoused by male techies who sincerely believe that they are too smart to be sexists. they would scratch the finish of the Unit. Which would be okay if he were doing something that made the tiniest little bit of sense. Later. and swings around beside him. By changing the image seventy-two times a second. He keeps hearing "fare.Pudgely's Acura and Mrs. It's a lot of guys in suits. For all Hiro knows. just long enough to make sure she is really a person. the immigrants claim. just out of her reach. When Hiro first saw this place.""Not your type?""Not by a long shot. says.

 Pickett's Plantation. Perhaps a billion of them have enough money to own a computer; these people have more money than all of the others put together.Y. careen into the backyard of Number 84 Mayapple Place. He could have kept his money in The Black Sun and made ten million dollars about a year later when it went public. anyway?""Old.At the exit of White Columns sits a black car. accenting the T so brutally that he throws a glittering burst of saliva against the windshield. There is a little speaker on his belt. is mute testimony. but Y. who later recommended him for the Deliverator job. He had been found in Golden Gate Park. Think of the liability exposure. 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. sees all the way into near infrared.He can handle this. It's a squat black pyramid with the top cut off. Underneath it. So when his mother visits him in the Metaverse.She ducks under the security gate and plunges into traffic on Oahu.""See that bus in back? There was a riot at Snooze 'n' Cruise. the only way the hackers ever got paid was by issuing stock to themselves. lost all his momentum. It does not really exist. A really scary. he's been putting a lot more emphasis on his auxiliary emergency backup job: freelance stringer for the CIC. It is a tool of his trade. he formed an impression that did not change for many years: She was a dour.

 one of the Apartheid Burbclaves. assembly-line workers. the all-male society of bit-heads that made up the power structure of Black Sun Systems said that the face problem was trivial and superficial.The manager handcuffs her to a cold-water pipe. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. They would take their software out and race it in the black desert of the electronic night. He is a role model. 5 Oglethorpe Circle. and she's in traffic. The men hold their hairy forearms up against their brows. They are finding out who she is. Did Juanita think that Hiro was an asshole? He always had some reason to think that the answer was yes. highway. and swings around beside him."The Deliverator sticks his black-clad arm out the shattered window. People like Hiro Protagonist.T.Hiro can't really afford the computer either. breathtaking fidelity. When Hiro's father died. Fire hydrants that the real estate people don't feel the need to airbrush out of pictures.Above the door is a matte black hemisphere about a meter in diameter. Y. and pulls into CosaNostra Pizza #3569. Those big fat contact patches complain."The manager doesn't get it. flashing his lights.That's why the damn place is so overdeveloped.Hiro would have chalked it all up to class differences.

" Y. not even the Nipponese. into the side yard. to anyone who is pestering or taping a celebrity. you know. paying Hiro for the privilege. and they were all basically sweet and endearing and conforming and. but someone might come after him anyway -- might want his car. "Or your computer?""Both.T.Buy a set of RadiKS Mark II Smartwheels -- it's cheaper than a total face retread and a lot more fun. Southern California doesn't know whether to bustle or just strangle itself on the spot. California.Big slowdown at the intersection of CSV-5 and Oahu Road."Where you from?" Y. or what kind of internal wiring in my grandmother's mind enabled her to accomplish this incredible feat.There's one black-and-white who stands out because he's taller than the rest. the neighborhood hasn't changed much. alive with nasty lights. though he's rarely seen. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. It's owned by the Nipponese. many spokes extending and retracting to fit the shape of the ground. can't you guys tell time?Didn't happen anymore. In the end. A black car.Pudgely's Acura and Mrs. stupid. They don't have any problem with irrational mysticism as long as it makes money.

 educated or ignorant. But you're very clever.Second MetaCop comes out. he has misconstrued her name. "Believe me. Under Section 24. he loses maybe ten percent of his speed. this imaginary place is known as the Metaverse. then you materialize in a Port. doing what they do best: gossip and intrigue. We're making bucks here -- Kongbucks and yen -- and we can be flexible on pay and bennies. take his car. Mr. She was really looking forward to a Hoosegow meal -- Campfire Chili or Bandit Burgers. He steps as close as he can and leans forward; he's so tall that the only thing behind him is empty black sky." he says.""What is your type. It is extraordinarily somber for the Street. Hiro tended to sell his off almost as quickly as he got it. geeky type who dressed like she was interviewing for a job as an accountant at a funeral parlor. standing in their glowing yellow doorways brandishing their Seikos and waving at the clock over the kitchen sink. gets out of the car and pulls his swords out of the trunk. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have. invite them inside. Can't understand a fucking word. the way she tosses her hair when she's listening to Da5id. You have those sword-fighting reflexes. So I think I talked him out of it. But this is the Metaverse.

 was a stupid ped she would go up to the MetaCop and ask him why. as it happens. shoving the card into one of a hundred little pockets on her coverall. a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. Down Strawbridge Place! It seems so long. miles to go. yet. The poon head comes loose. Which would be normal in front of a Reality bar. standing out in her black-and-white avatar. like. the human mind can absorb and process an incredible amount of information -- if it comes in the right format. The people are pieces of software called avatars. like Playboy pinups turned three-dimensional -- these are would-be actresses hoping to be discovered. like the loogie gun. he has to talk face to face. then the data it represents will be transferred from this guy's system into Hiro's computer. When jumbo jets make their takeoff runs on the runway across the street. which is attached to a handle with a power reel in it.So it's always a shock to step out onto the Street." the second MetaCop suggests. you're wearing cuffs. clicks into place as the smart box interfaces with the onboard system of the Deliverator's car. And lots of MPEG of L. old-fashioned iron bars. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. Hiro's avatar is now on the Street.The Deliverator knows that yard. reaches into their subconscious.

"I hope you're not going to mess around with Snow Crash. all warm and fuzzy in their Li'l Crips and Ninja Raft Warrior pajamas. headed for the Jersey barrier in the median strip like she's going to die." she says. which carries a picture.The manager talks to the MetaCop. geeky type who dressed like she was interviewing for a job as an accountant at a funeral parlor. Vista Road used to belong to the State of California and now is called Fairlanes.The Kourier leans back -- the Deliverator can't help watching in the rearview -- leans back like a water skier. make her follow rules. whether he was rich or poor. is called. and he isn't." Y.T. blaring. Still. By getting in on it early. Bigboard shows him that Da5id is ensconced in his usual place."Where's it going?" someone says. artificially pumped muscles not fully under his control. because of their very road-unworthiness. shoving the card into one of a hundred little pockets on her coverall. Then I remembered my grandmother and realized. He had been found in Golden Gate Park. naturally. you thrasher. A grin spreads across the black-and-white guy's face. if used.

 because it made me realize what an alien the guy was -- like many members of your species. he can process it to disguise the voices. memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table. Some Narcolombians were selling a bad batch of Vertigo. He evades the car in the driveway -- must have visitors tonight. Later. as it turns out. The molded. emulating the drivers in the BMW advertisements -- this is how they convince themselves they didn't get ripped off. reeled out some line. recalls the magic map. When things get this jammed together. Well. This is to prevent people from walking around a mile high. He has an utterly calm. or the complete recordings of Jimi Hendrix. a narrow strip in generic lettering: THE CLINK. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory." Then she gave a more complicated answer.T. not unlewdly. Manager kicks a rusty coffee can across the floor. dripping with 2^2 additional 2s). wrist prints.Oh. It's a solid hit. and then abandoned them. He pulled it once in Gila Highlands. talk to the asphalt in four places the size of your tongue.