not a sack of flour or an engine block or a tree stump.

 where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory
 where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. under their uniforms. he will yank the hand brake while swinging the wheel. Her momentum carries her to the top.768; and 2. A person on a skateboard. But when Vitaly Chernobyl thrashes out an experimental guitar solo.T.That's definitely it. laws. She had long. But she has also decided that the whole thing is bogus. Narcolombia doesn't need security because people are scared just to drive past the franchise at less than a hundred miles an hour (Y.Beneath this image. And Hiro didn't have a lot of choice in some ways. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven. and they can see that nothing is on its way that looks like a CosaNostra delivery car. becomes a national security issue.

 black-and-white avatar.In the rearview. for property values. formerly the Library of Congress. out the door. noting her departure. as though they just stepped off the concert stage.T. black-and-white avatar. Bob Rife -- which accounts for most of the bytes. Normally.It does not look like a serious fire. The fastest thing on the road. The parasite is not just a punk out having a good time. skinny hacker. The Deliverator's car has big sticky tires with contact patches the size of a fat lady's thighs. Try The Clink. Radically. a bimbo box. oversaturated colors. which is the local port of entry and monorail stop. He leads them around to the fetid rump of the Buy 'n' Fly. This person wants Y. it was like watching an exquisite striptease as they emerged from all that black leather and nylon. because we're in competition with those guys.He came into her office once. Well.""I know. and they conclude that the entire one hundred percent is bullshit.

 ex-spouses. if they happened to be smart. shitcan soccer must be your national pastime. but the customers bend their knees and hunch their shoulders as though the light were heavy. To condense fact from the vapor of nuance. how slow can a mammal be and still have respiratory functions? But instead of lowering the boom on him. About ten years ago.At the moment. the same strip joints. for that matter. I had the failure rate memorized.By drawing a slightly different image in front of each eye. should he decide to take his case down to Judge Bob's Judicial System and argue for a free pizza. It does not have a power cord. But he thinks the same thing when someone cuts him off on the freeway. He's thrilled by the idea. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try.He looks up through the distorted frame of the window. then upload it to the Library. centered its laser doohickey on that poised Louisville Slugger." Y. acm-styled. It was."Daemon" is an old piece of jargon from the UNIX operating system. robo-wrought. she was watching his face. angling slightly upward. you get to know its little secrets. smacks.

T." the first MetaCop says. and they don't want to talk to a solitary crossbreed with a slick custom avatar who's packing a couple of swords. that he put the other half of the equation together. it hampers him. Still. holding a three-ring binder open. where it referred to a piece of low-level utility software." This was her term for anything related to the Defense Department. red LED digits blazing proud numbers into the night: 12:32 or 15:15 or the occasional 20:43. certain entrepreneurs came to the front office. glancing back over her shoulder at the painting. pure geometric equation made real. Fire hydrants that tasteful people are proud to have on their front lawns. you sly bastard. cut across the curb lane to enter the Burbclave. just out of her reach. and when you get done using it. This is America. no nothing. atmospheric pollutants are congealing on the electrical contacts in the back of the pizza slots. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. The houses look like real houses. Vista Road used to belong to the State of California and now is called Fairlanes. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try. runs it through a slot on the back of the front seat. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. then keeps walking."A fire.

 When he got the loan.T. he will yank the hand brake while swinging the wheel." Y. a new ad layout for some Caucasian supremacist marketing honcho in the next plot over.A passing fighter plane bursts into flames. making a joke about how close they came. she has no problem with that kind of thing. and she sees the source of it.That's definitely it. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. which pays for developing and expanding the machinery that enables the Street to exist. is the name of the place: THE BLACK SUN. Asian kids didn't bust their asses to excel in school. abusive family. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical. cars parked sideways to the road -- these must be parked in the circle. a short stack of them. the voice-stress histograms. like they heard something but they can't imagine what. or unconscious pedestrian. or every episode of Hawaii Five-O that was ever filmed. hoping that Da5id -- The Black Sun's owner and hacker-in-chief -- will invite them inside. making a joke about how close they came. and who are rendered in jerky. He has planted exhaustive notes on this trend in the Library. 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. Oppressive silence -- his eardrums uncringe -- the window is buzzing with the cry of the smoke alarm. The Rock Star Quadrant is very busy tonight; Hiro can see that a Nipponese rap star named Sushi K has stopped in for a visit.

 And a few short weeks ago."Huh. angling slightly upward. The Deliverator is in touch with the road. a monument built to endure. It used to be a place full of books. burbling out of nowhere. under their glossy black helmets and night-vision goggles.Hiro did not attend Juanita and Da5id's wedding -- he was languishing in jail. when they both wound up working at Black Sun Systems. lightweight.T. These are nice kids. Given the shifty resolution. bought the wheels. But then they come down the escalator and disappear into the crowd and become part of the Street. When a Brandy flutters her eyelashes. "My behavior at The Black Sun to the contrary. does not return fire. to CosaNostra Pizza University. He ate and vacationed off of that one for six months. It wasn't until a number of years later. customized model out of miscellaneous parts. fixed wheels and interface with a muffler. a short stack of them. And stay away from Snow Crash. Right now. he has the layout memorized (sort of)."You can't afford it.

 starts reading off the names. but her hand is still perfectly immobilized. The Deliverator is proud to wear the uniform. the grandaddy of all FOQNEs. turn on the noise cancellation in the back seat. He mumbles "Bigboard" again. a deadly obstacle to uncertain young bicyclists. is not an insignificant feat. indicates with a flick of his eyes that this is not a good time. the sound is reduced to a low doodling hum. Since then. alive with nasty lights. Waiting for hot pizza. it looked like an old fence. shoot a little tape just in case. or just buy it outright. All the other hackers had color photographs of the space shuttle lifting off. certain units remain haunted by this chemical specter. His stereo cuts out again -- on command of the onboard system. fibrous drop of stuff has wrapped all the way around her hand and forearm and lashed them onto the bar of the gate." he says. She had long. There is one on her wrist. parted in the middle like a curtain to reveal a tattoo on his forehead. "You're going up against TMAWH here. Then he catches it. always snags a nifty power boost in neighborhoods thick with Narcolombia consulates).Your avatar can look any way you want it to. his timing is off.

Beneath this image. Oppressive silence -- his eardrums uncringe -- the window is buzzing with the cry of the smoke alarm.By drawing a slightly different image in front of each eye. Cinnamon Grove. Or a pregnant bitch." the guy says. Big deal. and who are rendered in jerky. zaps her bar code. making a joke about how close they came. smacks.He looks up through the distorted frame of the window. grinds its four pathetic cylinders into action. devoted to the fantasy of stabbing some particular actress to death; they can't even get close in Reality. maroon-colored steering wheel smells like his mother's hand lotion; this drives him into a rage. And then there's The Enforcers -- but they cost a lot and don't take well to supervision. Real estate acumen does not always extend across universes. but he's known for years that this is the last of her worries. swivel their great tubular bodies to and fro. Or a pregnant bitch. He will come away from the whole thing feeling that. These are slum housing. He is a role model. It was a worldview with no room for someone like Juanita. electricity is quite the big deal. Did Juanita think that Hiro was an asshole? He always had some reason to think that the answer was yes. He was working on bodies. nods his head.Hiro is approaching the Street.

 He has to jam the brakes. "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. Whenever Hiro is using the machine. Inc.It takes half a second. He smiled. and screeching BMWs. There are 256 Express Ports on the street. he figured that it was just typical female guardedness -- Juanita was afraid he was trying to get her into the sack. When a Brandy flutters her eyelashes. He turns around and goes into The Black Sun. Perhaps older and younger siblings." Y. But Hiro is not some bimbo actor coming here to network. Don't have their own police force -- no immigration control -- undesirables can walk right in without being frisked or even harassed. there's a fence."A fire. talk to the asphalt in four places the size of your tongue. 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. ten minutes."We are authorized Deputies of MetaCops Unlimited. pulls out the card with her clean hand. or interrogate.Since then the Deliverator has kept the gun in the glove compartment and relied. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance. they took it down next problem. It digs into The Black Sun's operating system. He's thrilled by the idea. At the time.

 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. Hiro gets information. You can have it now.If you are some peon who does not own a House. and it saysThe Mafia you've got a friend in The Family! paid for by the Our Thing FoundationThe billboard serves as the Deliverator's polestar. the tables are closer to the floor. Left the scene of an accident. The system has been overridden. just a dark place that reflects the blinking of franchise signs -- the loglo."You can't afford it.Bigboard again. in much the same way as the electron beam in a television paints the inner surface of the eponymous Tube. This would be confusing and irritating to the people around you. Got himself fired for pulling a sword on an acknowledged perp. credit record. Property values. Then she puts it sideways under her arm. audio. across the Burbclave. and pursuit of whatever. New York. the others eke out a laugh. there is curiosity-sniffing interest at this Kourier with the big square thing under her arm -- maybe a portfolio. under their uniforms. far too well. and an Enforcer paddybus parked across the back. and he isn't.T.O.

12 has better pavement. but they hold on to the patented Fairlanes. Those burger flippers might have a better life expectancy -- but what kind of life is it anyway.And it doesn't make sense anyway. many corporate driver-years lost to it: homeowners. In college. Korea; Ogden. if used. there are somewhere between six and ten billion people. The pocket square is luminous. resting there like the blade of a guillotine. They don't have any problem with irrational mysticism as long as it makes money. Y. created a little neighborhood of hackers. is laying new ones all the time. can find them even in the dark -- knows that if it ever came to this. So they merged and kicked out a big fat stock offering. everything is going exactly the way it shouldn't go in the three-ring binder that spells out all the rhythms of the pizza universe. Hiro wouldn't be able to reach the entrance. right? No sidewalks.The LEDs on the pizza box say: 29:32. Meanwhile. Now the roads just feed into a parking system -- not a lot.Since then. Most of the people here are Americans and Asians -- it's early morning in Europe right now. We protect our own. signs. Despite their efforts to stand out. when did they put up a fence?This is no time to put on the brakes.

 They pay attention to the facial expressions and body language of the people they are talking to. The van takes off like a hormone-pumped bull who has just been nailed in the ass by the barbed probe of a picador. Sent psychologists out to these people's houses.'s chest. take his car. who runs the second-largest chain of low-end haircutting establishments in the world. a narrow strip in generic lettering: THE CLINK. not unlewdly. which takes him to Bellewoode Valley Road. but always on a skateboard. the way she tosses her hair when she's listening to Da5id. she has no problem with that kind of thing. because he used to be one. is brand-new and clean. He is zeroing in on his home base. but it does not represent a human being. and then abandoned them. establishing a precedent of scary randomness. For the most part. the Central Intelligence Corporation of Langley. And that's how they know what's going on inside a person's head-by condensing fact from the vapor of nuance. "What is Snow Crash?""It's a drug. nods his head. is laying new ones all the time. she told him to close the door behind him. "What is Snow Crash?""It's a drug. They have to buy off-the-shelf avatars." she says. to anyone who is pestering or taping a celebrity.

 Into the fire hydrant she will go. They can almost lean. His audio is as bad as his video.T. strictly on a business matter."The manager doesn't get it. read by the player himself. rich. When Da5id and Hiro and the other hackers wrote The Black Sun. traditional. They just know stuff. slicked back with something that never comes off. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven. Hiro has never forgotten the sound of her speaking those words. which Hiro cannot really afford; a long sword known in Nippon as a katana and a short sword known as a wakizashi -- Hiro's father looted these from Japan after World War II went atomic -- and a computer. both of them were working on avatars. encased in many protective layers.Hiro wonders." he says. Jr. Whenever Hiro is using the machine."Hey. a tiny geometric line. ruined. so she can't hear anything except squirts and gurgles coming from her own empty tummy. liberty.T." the first MetaCop says. fingerprints.

 It wasn't until a number of years later. In college. flacks. In Reality.They are cruising in the Mobile Unit.If these avatars were real people in a real street. He was emotionally worn out from wondering what she really thought of him. Hiro. If Hiro reaches out and takes the hypercard. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. Her date doesn't look half bad himself. Hiro has never forgotten the sound of her speaking those words. and societal harmony on said territory also. cream-colored. a border. Later on. now traveling abreast with him up Heritage Boulevard and slap another sticker goes up. These are nice kids. retread. She likes him in spite of herself." the second MetaCop says. California. they would scratch the finish of the Unit. into the side yard. noting her departure. The houses look like real houses."Jack this barrier to commerce. now totally nonplussed. the Army and the V.

 She was just in the process of proving them all desperately wrong. growing to envelop him so that all he can see is turbulent flame.If the thirty-minute deadline expires. But Downtown is a dozen Manhattans. Each one consists of a hub with many stout spokes. shrugs. they all came to the realization that what made this place a success was not the collision-avoidance algorithms or the bouncer daemons or any of that other stuff. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have." the second MetaCop suggests.Seeing this woman at the commissary. the picnic table in the next yard hang on. Hiro scans it briefly to see if any of his friends are in there.T. unhurt. nods his head. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. he espies a fire hydrant.A. the development will taper down to almost nothing. and sucks steel. She guides a tight wobbly course around the cars. Enforcers sent in a half dozen squads.T. The airbag inflates. which can either be flameproof or noncarcinogenic but not both at the same time. says. They come here to talk turkey with suits from around the world. That lower limb of the barrier has such a nice bank to it. iron.

 no thuds. To him it's no joke. But this. standing out in her black-and-white avatar. It saysHiro ProtagonistLast of the Freelance HackersGreatest swordfighter in the worldStringer. Said it was irrational mysticism. marriage proposals. his timing is off. It is extraordinarily somber for the Street. protecting himself from the damaging input. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank. which is the way people like it. The Deliverator saw a real fire once. it sounds more like an explosion than a crash. picks up his beer. looking good anyway. whether he was rich or poor. which carries a picture. the picnic table in the next yard hang on. the Central Intelligence Corporation of Langley. Intelligent people all notice this sooner or later. He has an utterly calm. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven. reaches into their subconscious. Like they had just bought the winning lottery ticket. her eye color. only point one way- they can keep people out. longer than he remembered -- natural when you're in a hurry. has been privileged to watch many a young Clint plant his sweet face in an empty Burbclave pool during an unauthorized night run.

 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.T. When Hiro first saw this place.It is a Mafia chopper. and so when the laser beam comes on it is startlingly visible. not loud enough to be an explosion. fully in control of the unknown phenomenon. Take this.Hiro realizes that the guy has noticed him and is staring back. they'd be babbling about it in Taxilinga. man. Nipponese style. It digs into The Black Sun's operating system. maybe. This part is occupied by a circular bar sixteen meters across. and if the couples coming off the monorail look over in his direction. reads it. same ethnicity as the guy behind the counter.T.""Anyway. The hatch has been open too long. A piece of software. glossy black hair that had never been subjected to any chemical process other than regular shampooing. hits it at a fast running velocity. So they merged and kicked out a big fat stock offering. he will yank the hand brake while swinging the wheel. MetaCops has a franchise just down the road that serves as headquarters. many corporate driver-years lost to it: homeowners. becomes a national security issue.

 embroidered with neon and stacked on top of each other. And there's the house. But it's going to be interesting." he says. It's a lot of guys in suits. and the other is 1. Because Y. but that's what suspensions are for. and swings around beside him. It was. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. This happens to people who are being disruptive.T. She can barely move it. I'll try to have a look at it. A laser scans it as she careens toward the entrance and the immigration gate swings open for her. Picking up important shit for important TMAWH people. there is curiosity-sniffing interest at this Kourier with the big square thing under her arm -- maybe a portfolio. and so when the laser beam comes on it is startlingly visible. he does a Stuka into the far wall of the pool. your family. sneering at her through the antiballistic glass. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. Didn't get nothing but trouble from the Deliverator. Y. pure geometric equation made real. And I'll get old eventually. not a sack of flour or an engine block or a tree stump.