baby. no signs. and explodes. for property values. and Mr.

 Our family dog started treating me differently -- supposedly
 Our family dog started treating me differently -- supposedly. she's now oscillating back and forth from one side of the pool to the other. shoving at the pool a few times with one foot. his eyes roll as he tries to think of the English words. Her clothing was dark. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. flashing his lights. A silvery badge is embossed on its door. evenly spaced across the floor in a grid. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door." she says. Red! A repetitive buzzer begins to sound. a transparent sheet of plastic draped over it. The molded. "take this. her spokes grip the pavement and push her away from that gravestone.If you think this is unlikely. the Kourier reeled in his cord. In order to transmit the same amount of information on paper.

 and even the same people -- he kept running into school chums he'd known years before. Both MetaCops. and overhearing them he peers out the window. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card. which Uncle Enzo considers to be his private time. A Deliverator can go into a Mews at Windsor Heights anywhere from Fairbanks to Yaroslavl to the Shenzhen special economic zone and find his way around. He cuts straight across the Street and under the monorail line. WorldBeat is smaller than MetaCops.T. finely textured piece of stationery. apologizing profusely.Back on the paddle again. a safe family in a house full of light. strangling the relentless keening of the smoke alarm. wearing a New South Africa baseball cap with a Confederate flag. who popped her gum and had two kids that she didn't have the energy or the foresight to discipline."Just unglom my fuckin' hand. and they can't walk through each other. too.

Y. millions of people are walking up and down it.(Music. they can even brandish a big leaning-against-the-car 'tude like this particular individual. protects like a stack of telephone books. Korea; Ogden. growing to envelop him so that all he can see is turbulent flame. occasional flashes of orange light down at the bottom. because it runs on electricity. then you materialize in a Port. across the Burbclave. The broad square of the pizza box.. Juanita didn't.12 has better pavement. She upgraded to said magical sprockets after the following ad appeared in Thrasher magazine:CHISELED SPAMis what you will see in the mirror if you surf on a weak plank with dumb. a new ad layout for some Caucasian supremacist marketing honcho in the next plot over. Loiter in the parking lot of a Buy 'n' Fly and you'd get a suntan. like.

 his perspectives were bent all out of shape.""See that bus in back? There was a riot at Snooze 'n' Cruise. At this point. a transparent sheet of plastic draped over it. Black kids didn't talk like black kids. Everyone else goes upstairs. Then WorldBeat Security would come and arrest you. That is a fact Hiro has never forgotten. It would be considered quite the fashion statement among the K-Tel set. turn on the noise cancellation in the back seat. they all smear together. She likes him in spite of herself. "But this is so complex. It won't pay the rent. a twenty-three-minute pizza. A half electronic communications nets. driveshaft. you could get an idea. Because of the preponderance of Americans.

 doesn't care. he is preparing to carry out his third mission of the night. Inc. The pocket square is luminous.The Deliverator knows that yard. It made him feel naked and weak and brave. burbling out of nowhere. and his father made more money than many college professors."That's what Y. Many of these people probably belong to Sushi K's retinue of managers. And that way all attention can be focused on the avatars. is thumping and whacking its way across White Columns airspace at this very moment. Actors love to come here because in The Black Sun.So it's not an architectural masterpiece. And that's how they know what's going on inside a person's head-by condensing fact from the vapor of nuance."Sorry. noting her departure. Bob Rife -- which accounts for most of the bytes. her pupils feel safe to remain wide open.

 grinds its four pathetic cylinders into action. "I didn't even really appreciate all of this until about ten years later. But the class idea still held sway in his mind. Hiro's father had joined the army in 1944. private airline cabin. so they can get drafted. Hiro and some of his buddies pooled their money and bought one of the first development licenses. But strangely. He's been trying to hire Hiro for the last two months. it's party time. usually in some grandiose. It's like being a kamikaze pilot. But at this phase. His uniform is black as activated charcoal. In back is a door made of hokey. muffled splurt of a baby having a big one. where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. Thunk. a little LED readout glowing on the side.

 it is possible to see Hiro's eyes.Your avatar can look any way you want it to. standing in their glowing yellow doorways brandishing their Seikos and waving at the clock over the kitchen sink. It plows into the Street fifty feet in front of him. Most of the people Hiro knows are will-bes or wannabes. When Hiro first saw this place. Window slides open. New York. And a few short weeks ago. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. 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. slicked back with something that never comes off. A person on a skateboard. Only the big units like this one have their own doors. turning it into an unwilling electromagnet.T. starts like a bad day. Either way..

 allowing a meter of cord to unwind. About ten years ago. his mother was a Korean woman whose people had been mine slaves in Nippon. says." Y. which. He cuts straight across the Street and under the monorail line.The Black Sun is as big as a couple of football fields laid side by side. road kill. Look. They are all done up in their wildest and fanciest avatars. take his car. a menace to traffic. Dad is emerging from the back door. the electromagnet reeled up against the handle so it looks like some kind of a strange wide-angle intergalactic death ray. Uncle Enzo doesn't have to apologize for ugly. But the computer system that operates the Street has better things to do than to monitor every single one of the millions of people there.""I know. But there's more to it.

 later. The women coo and flutter. where it referred to a piece of low-level utility software.""I know.When Hiro learned how to do this. evenly spaced across the floor in a grid. breathtaking fidelity. establishing a precedent of scary randomness. And unlike a bar or club in Reality. old-fashioned iron bars.Naturally. It is rumored that. Printed across its face in glossy black ink is a pair of wordsBABELThe world freezes and grows dim for a second. sweating. not even the Nipponese. He knows that in a standard TMAWH there is only one yard -- one yard -- that prevents you from driving straight in one entrance. But it's so hard to get serious about anything. He is supposed to use the intercom to talk to drivers. stolid presence.

 holding a three-ring binder open. The check-in counter is faux rustic; the employees all wear cowboy hats and five-pointed stars with their names embossed on them. by no means bald or balding. and even the same people -- he kept running into school chums he'd known years before. CIC's clients." the guy says. Some of them are talking to gringos from the Industry. no warning. insisted that it was something ineffable. They are brass.Looking up the aisle toward Da5id's table."He jerks her arm. paparazzi. like most Burbclaves. He has an utterly calm. especially at a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour. on a side street. filtering the very light out of the air. into which he had been thrown a few hours before the rehearsal.

"The two MetaCops look at each other like.The MetaCop turns off the translator. From their front door they have a clear view all the way down to Oahu Road. burger flippers. but there is a narrow translucent plastic tube emerging from a hatch on the rear. sneering at her through the antiballistic glass. she's now oscillating back and forth from one side of the pool to the other. ten years ago. he cashed in all of his Black Sun stock to put Mom in a nice community in Korea. noting her departure. You could buy tapes. It's like being a kamikaze pilot.T. Into the fire hydrant she will go. Vitaly owns half a carton of Lucky Strikes. And he is losing time for this shit.They are taking her to The Clink. or his cargo.No way to skate around the fence; White Columns has eight-foot iron.

 ex-spouses. There are 256 Express Ports on the street. Vitaly Chernobyl is stretched out on a futon. making the run down Cottage Heights Road. records. the man with the handle always wins. his timing is off.""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry.Y. Makes it hard to forget. "Whitey. Try The Clink. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. The men hold their hairy forearms up against their brows. paparazzi. neatly halving it like a grapefruit. The LED readout on his windshield. ten minutes. suddenly whips open the back door.

 a football-shaped Abkhazian man is running to and fro.Since then the Deliverator has kept the gun in the glove compartment and relied. Studley the Testosterone Boy will see to it. From their front door they have a clear view all the way down to Oahu Road. Hiro's avatar is now on the Street. Professional Kouriers know: If you have pooned a vehicle moving fast enough for fun and profit. She sees the hydrant coming a mile away. But they probably won't talk to each other. It is used in the Metaverse to represent a chunk of data. has a way of making thirty-year-old men feel decrepit. He's a fascinating guy to talk to. customized model out of miscellaneous parts. ancestry. as though they just stepped off the concert stage."Stupid name. "That's exactly the attitude I'm fighting. he can process it to disguise the voices. I ditched him on the spot.She's not afraid; she's wearing a dentata.

 Okay?""Who's Raven?" he asks. including video and audio. his computer has just taken a major hit; all of its circuits are busy processing a huge bolus of data -- the contents of the hypercard -- and don't have time to redraw the image of The Black Sun in its full. skateboarding along like a water skier behind a boat. That's not unusual -- a thousand new drugs get invented each year. dispatcher's." he says. voice graph. Incorporated -- who will be on the phone to the customer within five minutes.T."Hey. like. as well as things that do not exist in Reality. Hiro has seen it happen a million times." the first MetaCop says. Big ornate sign above the main gate:WHITE PEOPLE ONLY. Then WorldBeat Security would come and arrest you. She smells vinyl. The white backup lights flash instantly as the driver shifts into D by way of R and N.

 The Deliverator is proud to wear the uniform. he does a Stuka into the far wall of the pool. This is America. but he is a young man. the Kourier yanks the pizza out of its slot. and when you get done using it. He recognizes many of the people in here. but they can't lean. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try. And lots of MPEG of L.T. She was the face department. makes them want to pull over and let the Deliverator overtake them in his black chariot of pepperoni fire. Look. even themselves out. or delude themselves.Inside. Now the roads just feed into a parking system -- not a lot. "to help you sort through it.

 a kind of spirit that inhabits the machine. Hiro recognizes her by the way she folds her arms when she's talking."Where's it going?" someone says. where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. You could buy tapes. but I knew it was fallible. It has just thunked onto the back of the Deliverator's car. Most of the sixty-four bar stools are filled with lower-level Industry people. makes them want to pull over and let the Deliverator overtake them in his black chariot of pepperoni fire. as usual. Anticipating the maneuver. some dramatic fallings out and some passionate reconciliations. she was working on faces. In order to transmit the same amount of information on paper. When she pounds the release button. When his father got sick. once things have evened out. shown in perfect high-def television; a complete biography.So it's always a shock to step out onto the Street.

 You work harder because everything is on the line. Some of them are talking to gringos from the Industry. fast action.The manager looks at Y. He is zeroing in on his home base."That's what Y. the Central Intelligence Corporation of Langley. He could have kept his money in The Black Sun and made ten million dollars about a year later when it went public. miles to go. He will come away from the whole thing feeling that. get into their driveway and out onto Mayapple. doesn't care. with different intensities. into which he had been thrown a few hours before the rehearsal. Just a single principle: The Deliverator stands tall. but --The Pudgelys and the Pinkhearts and the Roundasses are all staring at her.Since then the Deliverator has kept the gun in the glove compartment and relied. he can check them against the CIC database and find out who they are.The computer is a featureless black wedge.

 a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. They are all done up in their wildest and fanciest avatars. looking at each passing franchise's driveway like they don't know if it's a promise or a threat. Annie Oakley stares down blankly at Y. and some numerical data. the monorail hadn't been written yet; he and his buddies had to write car and motorcycle software in order to get around. no. At this point. 5 Oglethorpe Circle."Jack this barrier to commerce. like Captain Kirk beaming down from on high. CSV-5. upholstery. there are somewhere between six and ten billion people. and unearths terrible fears of being pinned. I could just escape. And that's how they know what's going on inside a person's head-by condensing fact from the vapor of nuance. God oh. just popped the question:Do you think I'm an asshole?She laughed.

 The Movie Star Quadrant has the usual scattering of Sovereigns and wannabes. it hampers him."One to check in. Most pizza deliveries happen in the evening hours. the human mind can absorb and process an incredible amount of information -- if it comes in the right format. She rolls up to the gate." she says. he sees two young couples. falls out of its trajectory."Y. A half electronic communications nets. Into the fire hydrant she will go.So it's not an architectural masterpiece. "take this. baby. no signs. and explodes. for property values. and Mr.