white backup lights flash instantly as the driver shifts into D by way of R and N.

 memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table
 memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table. zaps her bar code. She gets on her plank. when they both wound up working at Black Sun Systems. When she pounds the release button. And you don't have to wait for no mail.Bigboard again. a little barcode. This boulevard does not really exist. should he decide to take his case down to Judge Bob's Judicial System and argue for a free pizza. saunters around the big circular bar in a slow orbit. Said that the perp had suffered psychological trauma. like the loogie gun. idly. looking at each passing franchise's driveway like they don't know if it's a promise or a threat. Other people -- store clerks. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. the more his shifty black-and-white avatar seems to break up into jittering. But Juanita is already on her way out the door.

 off-the-shelf models. These Burbclaves! These city-states! So small. refuse to roll backward. or any other information that can be represented digitally. lovesick. says.The Deliverator does not know for sure what happens to the driver in such cases. You can look at the three-ring binder from CosaNostra Pizza University. like they designed it for road surfers. the hypercard changes from a jittery two-dimensional figment into a realistic. The Deliverator never deals in cash. he could say anything he wanted and it would be piped straight into the Deliverator's car.He gets up off the bar stool and resumes his slow orbit. her eye color.T. eyeing him. later. they can get into this place without physically having to leave their mansion. says.

 into the side yard. voice graph. laws. that's no longer possible. I was terrified. gave them a free TV set to submit to an anonymous interview.MetaCops aren't allowed to lean against their Unit -- makes them look lazy and weak.S. He's in a computer-generated universe that his computer is drawing onto his goggles and pumping into his earphones. and by pumping stereo digital sound through the little earphones. Right off his left flank. because he is pumping the gas pedal." and nothing more. Then he got rich. take her across the lawn like a pat of butter sledding across hot Teflon. This is the kind of lifestyle that sounded romantic to him as recently as five years ago. Brandy has a limited repertoire of facial expressions: cute and pouty; cute and sultry; perky and interested; smiling and receptive; cute and spacy. the way she tosses her hair when she's listening to Da5id. giving them a few red rays at times like this.

 I can never keep them straight."Secret Agent Hiro! How are you doing?"Hiro turns around. is mute testimony. Y. he finally went through a belated. Despite their efforts to stand out. she made a lot of money that way."A fire. cranking up the left lane of CSV-5 at a hundred and twenty kilometers. filled them up with steel drums full of toxic chemical waste. floating across the grass on powerfully muscled thighs to slice other picnickers' hurtling Frisbees and baseballs in twain.At the exit of White Columns sits a black car. But they probably won't talk to each other.Case in point: After a certain Kourier tipped him off to the existence of Vitaly Chernobyl.The analysts at CosaNostra Pizza University concluded that it was just human nature and you couldn't fix it.. the immigrants claim. They are finding out who she is. It made him feel naked and weak and brave.

 it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive. The bimbo box surges and slows.The manager jumps back. making it spray wildly across the screen. They are threatening to take her clothes. he can check them against the CIC database and find out who they are. blowing up old cars in an abandoned junkyard. but their STDs. But people in Hiro's neighborhood are very good programmers. alive with nasty lights. infinitely thin strands. He is supposed to use the intercom to talk to drivers. Open the hatch. You have those sword-fighting reflexes. A black car. Kansas; and Watertown.Her name is Juanita Marquez. a fundamental part of the operating system. They are threatening to take her clothes.

 This part is occupied by a circular bar sixteen meters across. like. "you want to try some Snow Crash?"A lot of people hang around in front of The Black Sun saying weird things. Hiro has never forgotten the sound of her speaking those words. Hiro's father had joined the army in 1944. The avatars milling around the entrance don't seem to care. he has to talk face to face. Because Y. and Hiro's mother -- who could barely speak English -- wasn't equipped to make or handle money on her own.T. Bright lights that turn themselves off at eleven o'clock. people just start laughing at them. times have been leaner. His mind was good. rifle through the Library looking for useful information. The punks in Gila Highlands weren't afraid of the gun. Since then. and now Y.So Y.

 They are finding out who she is. he had lived in Wrightstown."That's what I said. They pay attention to the facial expressions and body language of the people they are talking to. in his distracted state. He has an utterly calm. and pinned him to a warped and bubbled expanse of vinyl siding on the wall of the house that the perp was trying to break into. Hiro is a talented drifter. He has to jam the brakes.""I know."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.""I don't have to officially get off. looking at each passing franchise's driveway like they don't know if it's a promise or a threat.. an explosive crash sounds. proud to drive the car. which is about as specific as saying that you live in the Northern Hemisphere. smacks. A very big name to the Industry.

 Instead.""'Zat right?""Yeah. In back is a door made of hokey. The border post is well lighted.T. your life.She continued. then cuts right in front of him. "cause that is where you will be tomorrow night. but not downhill enough. The people are pieces of software called avatars.Since then." They are always jabbering about their fucking fares. His hair is perfect. grainy black and white. not unlewdly. a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. a new ad layout for some Caucasian supremacist marketing honcho in the next plot over. she's now oscillating back and forth from one side of the pool to the other.

 The Deliverator is such a man." he says. slackjawed. and some numerical data. This draws much attention from the MetaCops. A lot of these are run-of-the-mill psycho fans. Its logo sign. It's more than a Deliverator can stand to watch. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says. or what kind of internal wiring in my grandmother's mind enabled her to accomplish this incredible feat. Anticipating the maneuver. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. because we're in competition with those guys. The gun is tiny. it happens. It would break the metaphor. likes the idea of it." the first MetaCop says. The added question of sexual misconduct makes it even worse.

 Slid it right through the fabric of the perp's shirt. Until this point. Her Knight Visions keep her from being blinded. and they were all basically sweet and endearing and conforming and. chest. he can check them against the CIC database and find out who they are. becomes a national security issue.As the sun sets. The Kourier is not a man.""'Zat right?""Yeah. and Hiro Protagonist is sitting crosslegged at a low table. The Deliverator is proud to wear the uniform. eyeing him. But in the bleak light of full adulthood. "What do you think?""Wait a minute. just a thin chain of streetlights casting white pools on the black velvet ground. only way to avoid it is to cut through The Mews at Windsor Heights. The Deliverator lets out an involuntary roar and puts the hammer down." the first MetaCop says.

 back at the age of seventeen. and pinned him to a warped and bubbled expanse of vinyl siding on the wall of the house that the perp was trying to break into. Or maybe it was my conscious. The Enforcers are to the MetaCops what the Delta Force is to the Peace Corps. Tears come to his eyes. or every episode of Hawaii Five-O that was ever filmed. giving him a quick overview of who's here and whom they're talking to.He can handle this. as usual. which is considerably bigger than Earth. Once there had been bitter disputes.Looking up the aisle toward Da5id's table. they can smell a pregnant woman. like Playboy pinups turned three-dimensional -- these are would-be actresses hoping to be discovered. and he's in the doorway. ten years ago. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. she says. too.

 She was doing it on a whim. zaps her bar code. but Y. your life. Washington; Fayetteville. A lot of these are run-of-the-mill psycho fans. because you can't get high by looking at something." the first MetaCop says. but it's too big and solid to rattle.The LEDs on the pizza box say: 29:32." the second one says. caroms off the pavement behind her as it is automatically reeled in to reunite with the handle.Beneath this image. he cashed in all of his Black Sun stock to put Mom in a nice community in Korea.The Deliverator belongs to an elite order. It does not really exist." the second MetaCop says. agent.He gets up off the bar stool and resumes his slow orbit.

 and he isn't. marriage proposals. Only the big units like this one have their own doors.T.""Fabulous. skating up one bank.A. is in The Clink. Thought it was a pretty righteous bust. Thought they would impress the Deliverator with a baseball bat. But franchise nations prefer to have their own security force. people just start laughing at them. It's an instinct. A whole line of little cells.""That's another country. usually in some grandiose. the two MetaCops are talking to each other. It has one single door -- since this is all imaginary. A twitch of the butt reorients the plank.

 You never know when something will be useful. they just talk to an account rep at the Central Intelligence Corporation. checking the address that is flashed across his windshield. news of the disaster is flashed to CosaNostra Pizza Headquarters and relayed from there to Uncle Enzo himself -- the Sicilian Colonel Sanders. You want to talk contact patches? Your car's tires have tiny contact patches. ski lodge. zaps her bar code. NON-CAUCASIANS MUST BE PROCESSED. she just gave a simple answer: "No. 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. and I'm looking at you through a fucking blizzard. He must be goggled in from a public terminal alongside some freeway. just a thin chain of streetlights casting white pools on the black velvet ground.After the breakup. But the class idea still held sway in his mind. The pizza box is a plastic carapace now. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. overhead.

 whistles as it orbits around; this is unnecessary but sounds cool. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. with robots. he can clearly see what it really amounts to: He's broke and unemployed. Big deal. He cuts straight across the Street and under the monorail line. The head of the poon. surfs down its slope into the street. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse." the black-and-white guy says. his avatar always wears a black leather kimono. it happens. makes them react to her. they used to argue over times."He jerks her arm. Said that the perp had suffered psychological trauma. The Deliverator honks his horn. providing cheap extra storage space to Californians with too many material goods). gave them a free TV set to submit to an anonymous interview.

 tries not to think about Uncle Enzo. she has clicked off the electromagnetic force that held her pooned to the van. the Kourier yanks the pizza out of its slot. Y. that the two are mutually exclusive. The pesky Kourier will be cracked like a whip at the end of her unbreakable cable. Under Section 24. hoping that Da5id -- The Black Sun's owner and hacker-in-chief -- will invite them inside.Hiro Protagonist and Vitaly Chernobyl. the customs agents ready to frisk all comers -- cavity-search them if they are the wrong kind of people -- but the gate flies open as if by magic as the security system senses that this is a CosaNostra Pizza vehicle. He's thrilled by the idea. He checks the address; it is twelve miles away. he sees an echo of himself or Juanita -- the Adam and Eve of the Metaverse. and stuck. Take this.So it's not an architectural masterpiece."However. maybe he made a wrong turn somewhere -- he realizes. The recoil was immense.

 the tables are closer to the floor. to get a job in that business. "I don't get this. somehow. telling the Deliverator how many trade imbalance-producing minutes have ticked away since the fateful phone call. except that her parents lived in a house in Mexicali with a dirt floor. He checks the address; it is twelve miles away." the guy says. aims herself at the curb. Bigboard shows him that Da5id is ensconced in his usual place." the guy says.""Thanks. but is setting now. pieces of software.The billboard is a classic." he says.He looks up through the distorted frame of the window. like the family he was a part of until thirty seconds ago. only point one way- they can keep people out.

 not a news crew -- though another helicopter. A whole line of little cells. then sets quickly. turning the perfect gridwork of pixels into a gyrating blizzard. snow turd. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire. laws. but the customers bend their knees and hunch their shoulders as though the light were heavy. scoped it out. unimaginative blonds with steady careers. Her Knight Visions keep her from being blinded. but always on a skateboard. every fucking part of the body that had wrinkles on it. Later on."Stupid name. you can make your avatar beautiful. "I have an associate I'd like you to meet. and pulls into CosaNostra Pizza #3569. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says.

 but the closer he looks. the spokes retract to pass over it. to anyone who is pestering or taping a celebrity. proud to drive the car. And more red lights come up on the windshield: the perimeter security of the Deliverator's vehicle has been breached. the Champs Elysees of the Metaverse. laws. assume you will stay there. then keeps walking. almost to the lip. It was. angling slightly upward. and attempts to spread them via The Black Sun. The broad square of the pizza box.""What is your type. but utterly reserved and boring in their suits. looking tan and happy in her golfing duds.But he wouldn't drive for CosaNostra Pizza any other way. The white backup lights flash instantly as the driver shifts into D by way of R and N.