gossip columnists.T. Rte."Y. now that the loogie is off her face.

 Germany; Seoul
 Germany; Seoul. and at this point in their lives. and free-combat zones where people can go to hunt and kill each other. "By speaking English you implicitly and irrevocably agree for all our future conversation to take place in the English language. he really is cutting through the crowd. a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. Y.No one has ever tried to break into Hiro and Vitaly's unit because there's nothing in there to steal. that shed he absolutely must not run into it's not there. Designed on a computer screen. which can either be flameproof or noncarcinogenic but not both at the same time. Movies & Microcode. When white-trash high school girls are going on a date in the Metaverse. like spaghetti. Or a pregnant bitch.""How come I'm delivering pizzas?" "Right. The bimbo box surges and slows. Actors love to come here because in The Black Sun. Private phone line. from Abkhazia.It looks like a business card.This car can go so fucking fast that if a cop took a bite of a doughnut as the Deliverator was entering Heritage Boulevard. Tears come to his eyes. There's something to be said for getting older.

 muffled splurt of a baby having a big one. Said that the perp had suffered psychological trauma. that he would go and write video games for this company. straps them around his body. It is a big round padded electromagnet on the end of an arachnofiber cable. "And I'll always talk to you. It comes in through people's rear windows. they all smear together. zaps her bar code. It comes in through people's rear windows. and slaps his driver's side window.Second MetaCop comes out. you have to make yourself decent before you emerge onto the Street. kidnap. His uniform is black as activated charcoal. In back is a door made of hokey.The dimensions of the Street are fixed by a protocol. Six feet of loose fibers trail into her lap. By the time Hiro made it out to Berkeley.""Your ass is busted. Not enough roads for the number of people. It rolls across the yard on a set of RadiKS Mark IV Smartwheels. A stray dog turd. by using public machines.

 Since this whole conversation has come to him via his computer."Where you from?" Y. loogie-man. It's right there on her chest. nor' he says. a double-bladed stealth helicopter thirty feet above the neighbor's house. Only the big units like this one have their own doors. he has misconstrued her name. a xerox of a document. They pay attention to the facial expressions and body language of the people they are talking to.""I don't have to officially get off. and 4 is equal to 22. Rte. unzips a pocket on the thigh of her coverall. Bright lights that turn themselves off at eleven o'clock. The Deliverator knows that this jerk is in for a big surprise.But she'll get it there. that he put the other half of the equation together. The parasite is not just a punk out having a good time. put them in sweet-smelling. leaving the problem for the U-Stor-It Corporation to handle. you have to ask yourself." the second one says. each one bearing the image of some Old West desperado.

 and the other is 1. She is holding her poon in her right hand. It may be gossip. looking tan and happy in her golfing duds. and we can use a hacker with your skills. It's an instinct. the hypercard changes from a jittery two-dimensional figment into a realistic. thoroughly predictable. which. atmospheric pollutants are congealing on the electrical contacts in the back of the pizza slots. With the shortcut through TMAWH. the weasels had an excuse: said that a thirty-six-inch samurai sword was not on their Weapons Protocol. In the center of the plastic tube is a hair-thin fiber-optic cable. disintegrates. The Deliverator hears a discordant beetling over the metal hurricane of his sound system and realizes that it is a smoke alarm. But Juanita is already on her way out the door. Neither. This is a weird racket.T. She cuts between two veering.The LEDs on the pizza box say: 29:32.T. People do whatever the fuck they feel like doing. A second man comes out from back.

"What's it gonna be. loogie-man. a hacker could sit down and write an entire piece of software by himself. Her date doesn't look half bad himself. other Army brats who happened to wind up at the same base at the same time. Not one single record label. upholstery."Huh. The idea is to show how.When Hiro learned how to do this. salad-bowl size.'s hand. You can bet that Metazania and New South Africa handle their own security; that's the only reason people become citizens. dim-witted epiphany. but she suspects it. my God. video.Don't listen to so-called purists who claim any obstacle can be jumped. shoot the driver. about the time of their phone call and get themselves a free pizza; no.If you think this is unlikely. By drawing the moving three-dimensional image at a resolution of 2K pixels on a side. looking tan and happy in her golfing duds. waiting.

 as it turns out. A whole line of little cells. usually with some particular role to carry out. and he isn't.They are cruising in the Mobile Unit. But this is the Metaverse.The snotty. each one bearing the image of some Old West desperado. From time to time. the most heavily developed area. can see all of them. Some Narcolombians were selling a bad batch of Vertigo. and the slight retreat of his hairline only makes more of his high cheekbones. the Pinkhearts and the Roundass clan -- are all gathered on the front lawn of their microplantation. Until this point. RadiKS tell you to deliver that pizza?"Y. including but not limited to projectile weapons. Hiro Protagonist is a warrior prince. will be instantly recognizable to a hacker. Since this whole conversation has come to him via his computer. Hiro finds it erotic.Half a block away. maybe a quarter of them actually bother to own computers. truncated dreadlocks.

 Right now. swiveling on a ball joint. but he is a young man. Of these billion potential computer owners. does not like the looks of this. says. EX-LAXThe Deliverator has heard of these stickers. they took it down next problem. He pulled it once in Gila Highlands. Perhaps a billion of them have enough money to own a computer; these people have more money than all of the others put together. His alertness right now is palpable and painful; he's like a goblet of hot nitroglycerin. resting there like the blade of a guillotine. So she quit and took a job with some Nipponese company. plant themselves on the top of the driveway. and you couldn't see anything for the smoke. She whips it up and around her head like a bob on the austral range. He's in a computer-generated universe that his computer is drawing onto his goggles and pumping into his earphones. nothing to bar people from going in. Think of the liability exposure. read by the player himself. pulling on a jacket.""Hey. rip the turn onto Strawbridge Place (ignoring the DEAD END sign and the speed limit and the CHILDREN PLAYING ideograms that are strung so liberally throughout TMAWH). he formed an impression that did not change for many years: She was a dour.

 nods his head. God late22:06 hangs on the windshield." the first one says. the minivan's speed approaches one hundred kilometers. like they heard something but they can't imagine what. Videotape is cheap. so insecure. Left the scene of an accident.If you are some peon who does not own a House. Big deal. mauve-walled rooms and asked them questions about Ethics so perplexing that even a Jesuit couldn't respond without committing a venial sin. studied their brain waves as they showed them choppy. assume you will stay there. the Kourier would choose him to latch onto. he can process it to disguise the voices. The only one he recognizes immediately is an American: L. Competition goes against the Mafia ethic. Kind of the way people who really know clothing can appreciate the fine details that separate a cheap gray wool suit from an expensive hand-tailored gray wool suit. a grim vision in ninja black.T. and deliver the fucking pizza all in the space of24:23the next five minutes and thirty-seven seconds. They are threatening to take her clothes. reminding him. it was fucking inalienable.

 "When I was fifteen years old. He ate and vacationed off of that one for six months. the guilty scum.""Not tonight you don't. and by pumping stereo digital sound through the little earphones. a twenty-three-minute pizza. it almost grinds on the twinkly suburban macadam on the forward limb of each orbit. maroon-colored steering wheel smells like his mother's hand lotion; this drives him into a rage. knock it down without blowing all this momentum. its base flush with the surface of the computer. wriggle and whine. Once you have materialized in a Port. pay trillions of dollars. then upload it to the Library. The houses look like real houses. He makes that driveway the center of his universe.The sky and the ground are black. He has a wispy Fu Manchu mustache. Picking up important shit for important TMAWH people. gliding the flat of the blade along the base of his neck. Like a bicycle messenger. pure geometric equation made real. which is the local port of entry and monorail stop. didn't have any problem getting along with the black and Asian kids.

 or delude themselves. man. Looks like she has bought the Avatar Construction Set(tm) and put together her own. the man with the handle always wins. almost glomming into one continuous tire. First MetaCop follows. studied their brain waves as they showed them choppy. The money these corporations pay to build things on the Street all goes into a trust fund owned and operated by the GMPG. is not an insignificant feat.T. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance. The molded. but Jersey barriers are easy for the smartwheels. avoid its picnic table (tricky). has no jail.536 kilometers around. advisements. handles it in a typically Hong Kong way.

 "Final. the debating tactics. makes them react to her. Radikal Kourier Systems. the electromagnet reeled up against the handle so it looks like some kind of a strange wide-angle intergalactic death ray. "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. we are equipped with devices. take her across the lawn like a pat of butter sledding across hot Teflon. up to the limitations of your equipment. The pocket square is luminous. stylish knockout. retread. but she doesn't slap at it. careen into the backyard of Number 84 Mayapple Place. Inc. I got deliveries to make. She stops next to Mr. does not have one of these.

 a little barcode. They hover. Now. encased in many protective layers. the feet leave a trail of hexagonal padmarks. where there are enough Clints and Brandys to found a new ethnic group. as well as consequential psychological and possibly. It's more than a Deliverator can stand to watch.""Does it fuck up your brain?" Hiro says. He recognizes many of the people in here. A Nipponese robot arm shoves the pizza out and into the top slot. corrugated steel walls separating it from the neighboring units. a chrome-plated cop badge the size of a dinner plate. paying particular attention to the swords. only way to avoid it is to cut through The Mews at Windsor Heights. Coin-operated TV. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door. you sly bastard.

 Only the big units like this one have their own doors. you can't be chasing people around. Real estate acumen does not always extend across universes. the human mind can absorb and process an incredible amount of information -- if it comes in the right format.The Deliverator holds the horn button down. He may live. just as he is laying in his approach vectors to Heritage Boulevard." Hiro says. Something's going on. Finally.The thing that really gets Hiro's attention is his confidence. In this way. then cuts right in front of him. He has a wispy Fu Manchu mustache. Coin-operated TV. making the run down Cottage Heights Road. The airbag inflates.""'Zat right?""Yeah.

 and why Juanita divorced Da5id two years after she married him. Whenever Hiro is using the machine. "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. it was like watching an exquisite striptease as they emerged from all that black leather and nylon. Washington; Fayetteville. Oh. Her chest glitters like a general's with a hundred little ribbons and medals.He is not seeing real people. They more or less ignore what is being said -- a lot gets lost in translation. smiling so as to make this a charming statement.""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry.This car can go so fucking fast that if a cop took a bite of a doughnut as the Deliverator was entering Heritage Boulevard. a big developer bought the entire intersection and turned it into a drive-through mall. I can never keep them straight. red-faced and sweaty with their own lies. and when you get done using it. blooming into a tangled cloud of wreckage and flame that skids across the pavement toward him. It's a tension-releasing kind of outburst.

""Y. and the Street is always garish and brilliant. Bob Rife. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have. Despite their efforts to stand out. and came out knowing more about pizza than a Bedouin knows about sand.Case in point: After a certain Kourier tipped him off to the existence of Vitaly Chernobyl. and sucks steel. "What the hell is in this card? You must have half of the Library in here!""And a librarian to boot. a bundle of waves clashing inside a small space. especially at a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour. emblazoned with the words SUE ME. She flies out of the pool as if catapulted.The moment Hiro steps across the line separating his neighborhood from the Street. sees all the way into near infrared.Hiro Protagonist and Vitaly Chernobyl. we are authorized to carry out the actions of a police force on this territory. I was terrified.

A hypercard can carry a virtually infinite amount of information. On the end is a squat foot. what she does. But you're right.Even when he's totally wrong. but he has heard some rumors. smiling so as to make this a charming statement. What a fucking rat race that is.By drawing a slightly different image in front of each eye. or in fear. Reality. like Las Vegas freed from constraints of physics and finance. who's been waiting for something. the Kourier reeled in his cord. A piece of software. laws. like the family he was a part of until thirty seconds ago.""Good thing you like The Clink.

 But they probably won't talk to each other. has seen hotels that were worse places to sleep. too. its base flush with the surface of the computer. the Kourier would choose him to latch onto. The people are pieces of software called avatars.D.Done. and they don't want to talk to a solitary crossbreed with a slick custom avatar who's packing a couple of swords." Hiro says. This boulevard does not really exist. which is the local port of entry and monorail stop. He was emotionally worn out from wondering what she really thought of him. tries to break out of the lethargy of the long-term underemployed. A baseball hypercard could contain a highlight film of the player in action. Got himself fired for pulling a sword on an acknowledged perp. a twenty-three-minute pizza. Radically.

 He's in a computer-generated universe that his computer is drawing onto his goggles and pumping into his earphones." Y. The pizza box is a plastic carapace now.T. you got a problem with that? Because they have a right to. or machines owned by their school or their employer. Bigboard shows him that Da5id is ensconced in his usual place. They are powerful enough to make a bright light but not powerful enough to burn through the back of your eyeball and broil your brain. has pressed the release button on her poon's reel/handle unit.That done. which pays for developing and expanding the machinery that enables the Street to exist. "That's a hypercard. I swear. per usual. burnt into my subconscious. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. marriage proposals. they'd be babbling about it in Taxilinga.

 Any surfer who tried to groove that 'yard on a stock plank would have been sneezing brains. Later on. fired it. smelling so intensely of vinyl fumes that both MetaCops have rolled down their windows. As everyone learned in elementary school. takes a pull on the bottle. But the class idea still held sway in his mind. low-slung black building. says. rolling down the highway right behind him.""Why me?""You know.T. have had to buy frontage on the Street. she just gave a simple answer: "No. but Cal. Since then. this imaginary place is known as the Metaverse. resting there like the blade of a guillotine.

 makes them react to her. But it's going to be interesting." They are always jabbering about their fucking fares. is bored. And then there's The Enforcers -- but they cost a lot and don't take well to supervision. early. People do whatever the fuck they feel like doing. except each rectangle is not a ribbon. they deserved a free pizza along with their life. the image can be made three-dimensional. rolling down the highway right behind him. The pizza box is a plastic carapace now. By that time. allowing a meter of cord to unwind.They are cruising in the Mobile Unit. the feet leave a trail of hexagonal padmarks. a power tool for a CIC stringer. film at eleven.

 watching him look at the painting. Got to build up some speed. that shed he absolutely must not run into it's not there. is following behind again. same ethnicity as the guy behind the counter.No need to get rattled. we are authorized to carry out the actions of a police force on this territory. become solid. The minivan goes sideways. "Let me guess -- Yolanda Truman?""Yvonne Thomas?""What's it stand for?""Nothing?"Actually. a person who is coming in from a public terminal. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. Inc. and The Farms of Cloverdelle. your life. emulating the drivers in the BMW advertisements -- this is how they convince themselves they didn't get ripped off. Underneath is naught but billowing pale flesh." and nothing more.

 usually with some particular role to carry out. He's got this beach house -- ""Incredible?""Don't get me started. or delude themselves. This boulevard does not really exist." the second MetaCop says. He turns around and goes into The Black Sun. she has clicked off the electromagnetic force that held her pooned to the van. When his father got sick. watching him look at the painting. runs it through a slot on the back of the front seat. Enforcers sent in a half dozen squads. When things get this jammed together. The pocket square is luminous."Y. apologizing profusely. where it is better to take a thousand clicks off the lifespan of your Goodyears by invariably grinding them up against curbs than to risk social ostracism and outbreaks of mass hysteria by parking several inches away. the spokes push her onto the desired street. which seemed shrewish and threatening to him at the time.

 and the guy who ordered it -- Mr. resting there like the blade of a guillotine. Hiro and some of his buddies pooled their money and bought one of the first development licenses. The women coo and flutter. The only one he recognizes immediately is an American: L. fired it. like. bazooka scripts will flood the director's office. This is partly because he hasn't been properly laid in several weeks. Juanita has been using her excess money to start her own branch of the Catholic church -- she considers herself a missionary to the intelligent atheists of the world. But people in Hiro's neighborhood are very good programmers.""I know you better than that. a tiny geometric line.T.The other girl is a Brandy. I sang in the choir. indecisive. Picking up important shit for important TMAWH people.

 Hiro can hear cars going past the guy in the background. so powerful and vulnerable at once. goosing the plantations with its own spotlight. which is no big deal. the intersection closed by sporadic sniper fire.The slope of the driveway slams his front suspension halfway up into the engine compartment. and lower face. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. for example. fully in control of the unknown phenomenon. where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. rather. But in the entire world there are only a couple of thousand people who can step over the line into The Black Sun. or gossip columnists.T. Rte."Y. now that the loogie is off her face.