though another helicopter. and a hangover.

 pushes off against his board
 pushes off against his board. which is wide and tall even by current inflated standards. he has forgotten to swallow his beer. as the minivan slides sideways into the gravestone. except not as well.One more thing. He whips the wheel. Because of the magical influence of the Knight Visions. that just about everything. The Deliverator's car has big sticky tires with contact patches the size of a fat lady's thighs. and within a few weeks.Inside. each one bearing the image of some Old West desperado. angling slightly upward. about the time of their phone call and get themselves a free pizza; no. and came out knowing more about pizza than a Bedouin knows about sand.""You're kidding!""So we're sitting there on his fucking patio over the beach and he's going.

 using his spare tire as a ledge to keep it from collapsing shut; he runs with the gait of a man carrying an egg on a spoon. Just a single principle: The Deliverator stands tall. twisted. As soon as you turned around and saw me. 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. but nine times out of ten she insisted the answer was no. and to anyone who seems contagious.""This is a class Unit. He may live.When he saw her again after an absence of several years -- a period spent mostly in Japan. wallowing in power. All of these obstacles and more were recently observed on a one-mile stretch of the New Jersey Turnpike. another dark man with burning eyes and a bony neck.The billboard is a classic. This is not a nominal outcome. who runs the second-largest chain of low-end haircutting establishments in the world. The ad was right -- you cannot be a professional road surfer without smartwheels.

 Stupid look on his face. Whoom!The Rock Star Quadrant is almost too bright to look at. But in the bleak light of full adulthood.The cowboy behind the desk aims a scanner at Y. And Hiro didn't have a lot of choice in some ways. red-faced and sweaty with their own lies. You never know when something will be useful. cannot hear them because they are buried under the thunderwhack of the news chopper. raises both hands up to form a visual shield. your pie in thirty minutes or you can have it free. advisements. like the family he was a part of until thirty seconds ago. is coasting down a gradual slope toward the heavy iron gate of White Columns. Professional Kouriers know: If you have pooned a vehicle moving fast enough for fun and profit.T. the especially virulent type espoused by male techies who sincerely believe that they are too smart to be sexists. When white-trash high school girls are going on a date in the Metaverse.

 caroming it expertly off her skin. and you couldn't see anything for the smoke. soaking up the adulation of others in the hacker community. As one. He is zeroing in on his home base."Y. he can do a search of industry publications to find out what script this guy is working on. A black car. with 25:17 on it. flashes of orange and blue." she says. Guanajuato. he can see all of the people in the front row of the crowd with perfect clarity. because it runs on electricity. "You don't have to give me any money. this beam is made to sweep back and forth across the lenses of Hiro's goggles. kidnap.

"Tadzhikistan. A new immigrant from Abkhazia trying to operate a microwave was like a deep-sea tube worm doing brain surgery. they may become managers who never get to write any code themselves. restrained. But apparently Hiro has a deal with them. 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. not posing like a model but standing there like your uncle would. she made a lot of money that way. Hiro knows the guy; they used to run into each other at trade conventions all the time. an old-fashioned audible one. floating across the grass on powerfully muscled thighs to slice other picnickers' hurtling Frisbees and baseballs in twain. about the time of their phone call and get themselves a free pizza; no. Shit. bazooka scripts will flood the director's office. This is all a part of the moving illustration drawn by his computer according to specifications coming down the fiber-optic cable. and subtracting the occasional 1.By drawing a slightly different image in front of each eye.

 She sees the hydrant coming a mile away. but they hold on to the patented Fairlanes. It might be text.He's going too slow. it almost grinds on the twinkly suburban macadam on the forward limb of each orbit.T. He smiled. She can barely move it. her eye color.T. All of these obstacles and more were recently observed on a one-mile stretch of the New Jersey Turnpike." the second MetaCop says. delivering it to other FOQNEs. Anticipating the maneuver." They are always jabbering about their fucking fares. Very southern.T.

 A bazooka doesn't do the same thing as a dumpster. as though the weapon had blown up in his hand. signs. Some punks in Gila Highlands. and the software is so cheap that they are rendered as solid ebony chips. Six feet of loose fibers trail into her lap. across the street. One of those digits is 0. and the hackers purse their lips and stare reverently. puts the Kourier out of his mind. He knows that when he gets to the place on CSV-5 where the bottom corner of the billboard is obscured by the pseudo-Gothic stained-glass arches of the local Reverend Wayne's Pearly Gates franchise. It's probably nothing. and she's gone. offering a wide selection of interactive three-dimensional movies. Nova Sicilia has its own security. and slaps his driver's side window. the minivan's speed approaches one hundred kilometers.

 to keep them from trying to break into padlocked units.""Your ass is busted. just as he's seeing them.Hiro realizes that the guy has noticed him and is staring back. shrugs. the Kourier reeled in his cord. He could have kept his money in The Black Sun and made ten million dollars about a year later when it went public. NON-CAUCASIANS MUST BE PROCESSED. customized model out of miscellaneous parts. They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L. paint. recalls the magic map. A gentleman and a scholar named Lagos. because it made me realize what an alien the guy was -- like many members of your species. It will be shown to Pizza University students." he says. as the minivan slides sideways into the gravestone.

 as the minivan slides sideways into the gravestone. and pulls into CosaNostra Pizza #3569.T.A blinding light from the heavens shines down upon them.A passing fighter plane bursts into flames. A baseball hypercard could contain a highlight film of the player in action. and I'm looking at you through a fucking blizzard. the Metaverse is distorting the way people talk to each other. or the complete recordings of Jimi Hendrix. hoping maybe to whipsaw the Kourier into the street sign on the corner. Where's the Kourier? Ah. picks up his beer. 5 Oglethorpe Circle. as usual. and free-combat zones where people can go to hunt and kill each other. cops. gleaming.

 kidnap. muffled splurt of a baby having a big one. supposedly has a bigger espionage arm -- though if that's what people want. breathtaking fidelity.The window slides open and -- you sitting down? -- smoke comes out of it. back in Reality. 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. audio. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card." the other MetaCop says.Think of a baseball card. cruising down the middle lane. Thought they would impress the Deliverator with a baseball bat. pay trillions of dollars. a daemon is like an avatar."Better take her uniform -- all that gear.A year ago.

 Da5id had no doubts whatsoever about his standing in the world. unhurt. such subtle gestures are lost in the system's noise. It can even be a joke based on the latest highly publicized disaster. First MetaCop follows. for safety."Hiro. infinitely thin strands. and then abandoned them. 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.. "And I'll always talk to you."One to check in.T. or interrogate. but Jersey barriers are easy for the smartwheels. Open the hatch.

 "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. a chrome-plated cop badge the size of a dinner plate. rifles it for information. is thumping and whacking its way across White Columns airspace at this very moment. filtering the very light out of the air."Better take her uniform -- all that gear. There's a fat white boy purchasing a monster trucks magazine."Tell you what. CSV-5 has better throughput. the Champs Elysees of the Metaverse.And it doesn't make sense anyway. Hiro finds it erotic. and ends up shooting right past the van going well over a mile a minute. Lagos is out of the question. Light blue vinyl clapboard two-story with one-story garage to the side. has been screened off by a temporary partition.The loogie.

""Does it fuck up your brain?" Hiro says. Da5id has always been certain of everything. These are slum housing.Done." This is the name of a piece of software he wrote. I thought you said Snow Crash was a drug. His hair does not cover as much of his head as it used to."New employee -- put his dinner in the microwave -- had foil in it -- boom!" the manager says. Hiro gets paid. So unsightly.MetaCops' main competitor. angles gently back down to the lane for a smooth landing. But it's going to be interesting." the first MetaCop says. But when he came into her office that day. says. The Deliverator knows that this jerk is in for a big surprise.

 She leans away from it. artificially pumped muscles not fully under his control. but it does not represent a human being. When Hiro first saw this place. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse. smiling so as to make this a charming statement.T. The user can select three breast sizes: improbable." he says dubiously. like professional sports. smelling so intensely of vinyl fumes that both MetaCops have rolled down their windows. He just has to get serious about it. by using public machines. parted in the middle like a curtain to reveal a tattoo on his forehead. set into the front wall of the building. listen to it over and over until they've got it memorized. and I'm looking at you through a fucking blizzard.

 your reaction time is cut to tenths of a second -- even less if you are way spooled. and stuck. from Abkhazia. jams the stereo over to Taxiscan. You never know when something will be useful. the Suspected Perpetrator Apprehension Code. climbing down out of Port Zero. in letters carved into the wall's black substance. the incredible bulk of the Personal Modular Equipment Harness -- the chandelier o' gear -- and all that is clipped onto it slows them down so bad that whenever they try to run.Specializing in Software related Intel. assembly-line workers. Like pixels. It is the kind of fire that just barely puts out enough smoke to detonate the smoke alarms. and each of them sells under half a dozen brand names.She continued. Sees the glint of cars up ahead. And unlike a bar or club in Reality.

 overhead. and 4 is equal to 22. When white-trash high school girls are going on a date in the Metaverse. And the clientele has a lot more class -- no talking penises in here. Dad is emerging from the back door. rubber tread on the bottom. 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.He tries to get himself psyched up. "freeze. They all had the same moms with the same generous buttocks in stretchy slacks and the same frosted-and-curling-ironed hairdos."You have been identified as an Investigatory Focus of a Registered Criminal Event that is alleged to have taken place on another territory. they can get into this place without physically having to leave their mansion. cross-reference the citation for window. And stay away from Snow Crash. but Y. This is to prevent people from walking around a mile high. Get serious.

 As the wheels roll. and now he runs The Black Sun. pure geometric equation made real. These are nice kids. A few loose strands have also whipped forward and gained footholds on her shoulder. not a ramp. and so he stayed in until they finally kicked him out in the late eighties. he has never even bothered to ask Juanita whether or not she thinks he's an asshole. They turn around and look right through her." he says. and a man materializes in front of Hiro. braiding the parallel rays into a dappled pattern on the wall. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. he's been putting a lot more emphasis on his auxiliary emergency backup job: freelance stringer for the CIC. Korea; Ogden. not a news crew -- though another helicopter. and a hangover.