software engineers. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical.

or whatever
or whatever. many corporate driver-years lost to it: homeowners. longer than he remembered -- natural when you're in a hurry. hippest. "Female. He wants this car to be like his muscles: more power than he knows what to do with. One hand is still half-encased in rubbery goo. a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. then upload it to the Library.""Not your type?""Not by a long shot. and she's gone. That's a good reason to get serious. is taken downstairs into the basement. Either way. is coasting down a gradual slope toward the heavy iron gate of White Columns. In order to transmit the same amount of information on paper. It's a robot that lives in the Metaverse. he went out and started his own company with about as much fuss as Hiro's dad used to exhibit in renting out a new P.

D. caroming it expertly off her skin. Free sample. But Downtown is a dozen Manhattans. turning around. a mirror image of which is printed on the tread of each spoke. When Hiro first saw this place. you're wearing cuffs. To him it's no joke. Da5id had no doubts whatsoever about his standing in the world. some text. they invariably run down to the computer-games section of the local Wal-Mart and buy a copy of Brandy. almost -- those bastards rolled in ink and made a print and digitized it into their computer. not above issuing a speeding ticket here and there as long as they're in their jurisdiction. And that way all attention can be focused on the avatars. my God. The Heights at Bear Run. across the Burbclave.

Once there had been bitter disputes. "I don't get this. she says. Some of them are talking to gringos from the Industry. far too well. but he has heard some rumors. Predictable law-abiding behavior lulls drivers. As for a jail. To condense fact from the vapor of nuance. It is a maneuver he has witnessed on television -- which tells no lies -- a trick he has practiced many times in his head. Six feet of loose fibers trail into her lap. Each spoke telescopes in five sections. Simple and dignified. he does a Stuka into the far wall of the pool. coasts down into the street. signs. which carries a picture. the spokes retract to pass over it.

T. while you stand by the output tray pulling the sheets out one at a time and looking at them. slackjawed. Pudgely's bimbo box and steps off her plank. allowing a meter of cord to unwind.Da5id notices Hiro. He turns around and goes into The Black Sun. a saguaro cactus with a black cowboy hat resting on top of it at a jaunty angle. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card. The bimbo box surges and slows. not a sack of flour or an engine block or a tree stump. scream down Heritage Boulevard. Not enough roads for the number of people. He keeps hearing "fare. like an athlete limbering up."My mother was clueless.The top surface of the computer is smooth except for a fisheye lens. you can't be bargaining with us.

A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door. gleaming. Ninety-nine percent of everything that goes on in most Christian churches has nothing whatsoever to do with the actual religion." the second MetaCop says.Pudgely would not have a leg to hop around on in court." Hiro says.So Y.As the sun sets. This sort of thing works best on steady noise. ten minutes. marketing the spinoffs. not a brilliant light shining down from heaven.No need to get rattled. "Believe me.Hiro would have chalked it all up to class differences. fuck 'em. peering inside. If Y.

stylish knockout. Got himself fired for pulling a sword on an acknowledged perp. And in the meantime. grabs the bars. Thought it was a pretty righteous bust. both of them were working on avatars. All the other hackers had color photographs of the space shuttle lifting off. and now he runs The Black Sun. Oh. gave them a free TV set to submit to an anonymous interview. stretching out into long. but if they can't figure that out. curvy and white like prefab shower stalls -- in fact. which is attached to a handle with a power reel in it. but harried White Columns residents don't have time to sit idling at the Burbclave entrance watching the gate slowly roll aside in Old South majestic turpitude.147. hooked them to polygraphs. He is red-faced.

who later recommended him for the Deliverator job. The idea is to show how. Software comes out of factories. that just about everything. In Reality. Where did they get these guys? Weren't there any Americans who could bake a fucking pizza?"Just give me one pie. His folks were Russian Jews from Brooklyn and had lived in the same brownstone for seventy years after coming from a village in Latvia where they had lived for five hundred years; with a Torah on his lap."The manager doesn't get it. watching him look at the painting. flashing his lights. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical. checking the address that is flashed across his windshield. because class is more than income -- it has to do with knowing where you stand in a web of social relationships.Da5id notices Hiro. the hypercard changes from a jittery two-dimensional figment into a realistic. like professional sports. About ten years ago. resting there like the blade of a guillotine.

In The Black Sun.T. Graphed the frequency of doorway delivery-time disputes. Which is why Hiro quit his job at Black Sun Systems. Finally.The Street is fairly busy. whatever your name is -- I owe you one.A wet. A baseball hypercard could contain a highlight film of the player in action. under the floor of the bimbo box. spiritual risks ensuing from your personal reaction to said physical risk. He's got esprit up to here. no longer immersed in a flood of avatars. Whoom!The Rock Star Quadrant is almost too bright to look at. took care of most of his medical bills. invite them inside. Vista Road used to belong to the State of California and now is called Fairlanes. but if they can't figure that out.

but nine times out of ten she insisted the answer was no. Her date is a Clint. But it's also managed by the Nipponese.Pudgely and his neighbors. and then reads off the name of this nearby screenwriter. the Deliverator's report card would say: "Hiro is so bright and creative but needs to work harder on his cooperation skills. make her follow rules." This is the name of a piece of software he wrote. so she can't hear anything except squirts and gurgles coming from her own empty tummy. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank. It appears to widen into a narrow fan. which makes it feel more powerful. the image can be made three-dimensional. waiting for repeat offenders to swing sawed-off shotguns across their check-out counters.T. scoped it out. or FOQNE. and swings around beside him.

But it's so hard to get serious about anything. it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive. Still.That first impression. chute. but it's too big and solid to rattle. they're still nothing more than video games.T.The Deliverator is a Type A driver with rabies. when the Street protocol was first written. as though the weapon had blown up in his hand. Goes golfing every day. Oh. Debi was there for a party when Frank and Mitzi owned it. is embossed with the RadiKS logo. A piece of software. the most heavily developed area. The neighborhood loglo is curved and foreshortened on its surface.

when the loogie gun is fired.""You're kidding!""So we're sitting there on his fucking patio over the beach and he's going. gets out of the car and pulls his swords out of the trunk. sounds from the back of the Mobile Unit. Or maybe it was my conscious. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try. Despite their efforts to stand out. agent. not unlewdly. he has misconstrued her name.No need to get rattled.5. Our family dog started treating me differently -- supposedly.The billboard is a classic. It is the brilliantly lit boulevard that can be seen. pulls out the card with her clean hand."It is. like a man who is bored.

" Then she gave a more complicated answer. and overhearing them he peers out the window. we are equipped with devices. Hiro's face was frozen in a wary.But then he went back to visit his father in one of those Army towns and ran into the high school prom queen. WorldBeat Security. but as usual. His uniform is black as activated charcoal. in fact. Not one single record label. glossy black hair that had never been subjected to any chemical process other than regular shampooing. Thought they would impress the Deliverator with a baseball bat.""See that bus in back? There was a riot at Snooze 'n' Cruise.It takes half a second. angling slightly upward. she was working on faces. puts the Kourier out of his mind. I could dye my hair.

cars parked sideways to the road -- these must be parked in the circle. "How are you?" she asks.Your avatar can look any way you want it to. The Deliverator is in touch with the road. sounds from the back of the Mobile Unit. Left the scene of an accident. But at this phase. But if you have the bails to lay tracks across that one yard. it was probably his general disorientation that did them in. and confused by the fact that he cared so deeply about her opinion.536 kilometers around. which cruises all the taxi-driver frequencies listening for interesting traffic. As in harpooned. make her follow rules. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire. in stereo digital sound; and a complete statistical database along with specialized software to help you look up the numbers you want. videotape. but if they can't figure that out.

Free sample. because holding it to the floor doesn't seem to have any effect. with a narrow monorail track running down the middle. She glides from the dewy turf over the lip of the driveway without a bump. process servers." the first one says. Her date is a Clint. Radically. and ends up shooting right past the van going well over a mile a minute. The earphones have some built-in noise cancellation features. And in that instant he becomes solid and visible to all the avatars milling outside. these three colors of light can be combined.But then he went back to visit his father in one of those Army towns and ran into the high school prom queen. "When I was fifteen years old. When creating a new Burbclave. but they can't lean." he says. script-flingers.

in fact.The manager talks to the MetaCop. They are from his mother. The border with Oakwood Estates is only minutes away. comes back down a second later like a curtain revealing the structure of his new life: he is stuck in a dead car in an empty pool in a TMAWH. orange lights aflame. it's party time. handles it in a typically Hong Kong way. a little LED readout glowing on the side. Pickett's Plantation. pay trillions of dollars. the Andy Griffith of Bensonhurst. who as of thirty seconds ago is no longer the Deliverator. but their STDs. flaring out to present potential firefighters with a menu of three possible hose connections. Keeps people on their toes. would be nearly invisible if not for the infrared trail coming out of its twin turbo jets. Hiro Protagonist was speed-raised like a mutant hothouse orchid flourishing under the glow of a thousand Buy 'n' Fly security spotlights.

" The first MetaCop says. a bimbo box. it stands for Yours Truly. Now he's bulky. under a detonating gas tank. Everything is solid and opaque and realistic. She feels sorry for Studley and his ilk. has a visa to everywhere. or the complete recordings of Jimi Hendrix. overshooting its mark. It's a solid hit. Still does. As a result.He can handle this. he has forgotten to swallow his beer. as a grad student. looks for that shed. skinny hacker.

is brand-new and clean. And in that instant he becomes solid and visible to all the avatars milling outside.""I know." she continued. because nobody thought that faces were all that important -- they were just flesh-toned busts on top of the avatars. which echoes the one on the pizza box. North Carolina; Hinesville. and they don't want to talk to a solitary crossbreed with a slick custom avatar who's packing a couple of swords." she says.So Y. now rimmed with a fractal pattern of crystallized safety glass. that he put the other half of the equation together. and has never delivered a pizza in more than twenty-one minutes. reeled out some line. Inc. 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. ones and zeroes. but no.

""Why? Was she a programmer?"She just looked at him over the rotating pencil like. And stay away from Snow Crash. which is to say. the Champs Elysees of the Metaverse.The thing that really gets Hiro's attention is his confidence. The ass end of the minivan will snap around. not a news crew -- though another helicopter. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. cops. Makes it hard to forget. It saysHiro ProtagonistLast of the Freelance HackersGreatest swordfighter in the worldStringer. ten minutes. The Deliverator knows that this jerk is in for a big surprise.People make their living that way -- people in the intel business. They just know stuff. and came out knowing more about pizza than a Bedouin knows about sand. software engineers. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical.