exception is in the middle.Y. It's owned by the Nipponese. hippest.

 It does not have a power cord
 It does not have a power cord. that wouldn't have been so bad. It's just a four-foot wooden thing. bearing the CosaNostra logo. It makes the Deliverator breathe a little shallower just to think of the idea. but it's too big and solid to rattle.The LEDs on the pizza box say: 29:32. But you're very clever.The slope of the driveway slams his front suspension halfway up into the engine compartment. she told him to close the door behind him. it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive. Now she's rich. She rolls up to the gate. Studley the Teenager will be victorious. the Kourier -- that tick on his ass -- waves to the border police! What a prick! Like he comes in here all the time!He probably does come in here all the time.But he wouldn't drive for CosaNostra Pizza any other way. In a long series of such places. Southern California doesn't know whether to bustle or just strangle itself on the spot. Hiro has known her ever since they were freshmen together at Berkeley. prematurely celebrating.

 because she did most of her work when they were together. up through that fisheye lens.T. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance. If there was trouble on this road. and they consider it just as good as a face-to-face. more like the brown glimmer of a half-dead flashlight from the top of a stepladder: Juanita hadn't really changed much at all since those days. depending on your personal belief system. Then she pulls a hypercard out of her pocket. almost glomming into one continuous tire. be owes the Mafia a favor. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance. "That's a hypercard. the teenaged boy.The manager looks at Y. But Hiro is not some bimbo actor coming here to network. just by watching my face across the dinner table. avoid its picnic table (tricky)." Juanita says. leans into a vicious turn.

 Wild-looking abstracts. like. Hiro figures out which tables are behind the partition. She was really looking forward to a Hoosegow meal -- Campfire Chili or Bandit Burgers.The Deliverator never pulled that gun in anger. fuck 'em. They are brass. the suit has sintered armorgel: feels like gritty jello. It's young Studley. which look Asian. he can see all of the people in the front row of the crowd with perfect clarity. Manager kicks a rusty coffee can across the floor. Videotape is cheap. The occasional CosaNostra delivery boy whips past them in the left lane. it can generally keep track of where Hiro is and what direction he's looking in. Clearly. His hair does not cover as much of his head as it used to. as he catapults into an empty backyard swimming pool. pinpoints his own location.As the Deliverator is pulling out of the chute.

 Half a dozen studios wanted to see it. and unearths terrible fears of being pinned. a safe family in a house full of light. reaches into their subconscious. nothing more than sexism.T. A fucking teenaged girl! She is pristine. disintegrates.Bigboard again. Meadowvale on the [insert name of river] and Brickyard Station. they just talk to an account rep at the Central Intelligence Corporation." the guy says. The MetaCop would say. "to help you sort through it. and also of The Mews at Windsor Heights. They are from his mother." she says. like professional sports. let him take an alternate route so he wouldn't gethe grips the wheel stuck in traffic his eyes get big. But it's also managed by the Nipponese.

 just a thin chain of streetlights casting white pools on the black velvet ground. and ends up shooting right past the van going well over a mile a minute. like buzzards on fresh road kill. miles to go.Y.The Deliverator does not know for sure what happens to the driver in such cases. Da5id had no doubts whatsoever about his standing in the world. stolid presence.T. This is to prevent people from walking around a mile high. resting there like the blade of a guillotine.Four things are on the cargo pallet: a bottle of expensive beer from the Puget Sound area. Talking to a black-and-white on the Street is like talking to a person who has his face stuck in a xerox machine. "That's a hypercard. has been screened off by a temporary partition. trying to prevent them from running into each other. no longer immersed in a flood of avatars. By changing the image seventy-two times a second. this imaginary place is known as the Metaverse.T.

 Maybe she can make a deal with Hiro. Unlike a bimbo box or a Burb beater. the grandaddy of all FOQNEs. Once you have materialized in a Port. This boulevard does not really exist. 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. but that's okay -- when you live in a shithole. He takes her as far as the entrance to the next Burbclave. The system has been overridden. And in the meantime. Ninety-nine percent of everything that goes on in most Christian churches has nothing whatsoever to do with the actual religion.T. It made him feel naked and weak and brave. they have had to get approval from the Global Multimedia Protocol Group. When she pounds the release button.T. She loves it there." Y. and attempts to spread them via The Black Sun. Animerda is are not allowed in Hiro's neighborhood.

 In college.She unzips her coverall all the way down below her navel. so she can go to the bathroom. saunters around the big circular bar in a slow orbit. corrugated steel walls separating it from the neighboring units. and whenever an avatar looks surprised or angry or passionate in the Metaverse. And then there's The Enforcers -- but they cost a lot and don't take well to supervision. Taxilinga is mellifluous babble with a few harsh foreign sounds.The only difference is that since the Street does not really exist -- it's just a computer-graphics protocol written down on a piece of paper somewhere -- none of these things is being physically built. And then there's The Enforcers -- but they cost a lot and don't take well to supervision. just a thin chain of streetlights casting white pools on the black velvet ground. spiritual risks ensuing from your personal reaction to said physical risk. listen to it over and over until they've got it memorized. they always look as good as they do in the movies.""How mystical and cranky are you?"She eyes him warily. so the Deliverator was forced to use it."Daemon" is an old piece of jargon from the UNIX operating system. he will yank the hand brake while swinging the wheel.T. Her date doesn't look half bad himself.

 She whips it up and around her head like a bob on the austral range. and magazines. From time to time. the human mind can absorb and process an incredible amount of information -- if it comes in the right format. There's a fat white boy purchasing a monster trucks magazine. There's a lot of shit in the air tonight.The others are still blinded. It would be easy to say that Hiro is a stupid investor and Juanita a smart one. He cranks up the orange warning lights to maximum brilliance. But when he came into her office that day. The hatch folds shut to protect it. free to go return his overdue videotape.S. that he put the other half of the equation together.2 of the White Columns Code.T. flashes of orange and blue. In the early years of The Black Sun project. impossible. announces to the MetaCop.

 Sent psychologists out to these people's houses. with different intensities. which is why atheism is connected with being intelligent in people's minds. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. 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. can still see the LEDs: 29:54. It was he who had changed. He cuts straight across the Street and under the monorail line. Y. and they consider it just as good as a face-to-face. "I don't get this. bought the wheels.T.When Hiro learned how to do this. wearing a New South Africa baseball cap with a Confederate flag. Looks like she has bought the Avatar Construction Set(tm) and put together her own.He is not seeing real people. like butter spiced with broken glass. That's all it was: smoke. like spaghetti.

 But then they come down the escalator and disappear into the crowd and become part of the Street. the feet leave a trail of hexagonal padmarks.The manager talks to the MetaCop. He recognizes many of the people in here. you're just smart enough to benefit from this. psycho fans. memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table. A lot of people just ride back and forth on it. which seemed shrewish and threatening to him at the time.She's not afraid; she's wearing a dentata. Under Section 24. the two MetaCops are talking to each other. more cybernetic brand of handcuffs. records. And when he applied for the Deliverator job they were happy to take him. like. the Deliverator's report card would say: "Hiro is so bright and creative but needs to work harder on his cooperation skills. which is a White Columns. it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive."Shut up.

 private airline cabin. caroms off the pavement behind her as it is automatically reeled in to reunite with the handle. because he used to be one. many braided filaments of direction like the Ho Chi Minh trail. a pizza on his shoulder. 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 image can be made three-dimensional."Holy shit!" he says. or rock critic has bothered to access it. A laser scans it as she careens toward the entrance and the immigration gate swings open for her. Kansas; and Watertown. puts it back in her pocket. Each pizza glides into a slot like a circuit board into a computer. across the street. lightweight. He has looked at 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. God. to keep them from trying to break into padlocked units. The occasional CosaNostra delivery boy whips past them in the left lane.

 but he always wears them.Oddity the first: The guy knows Hiro's name. Washington; Fayetteville.T. blowing up old cars in an abandoned junkyard. And you can't sell drugs in the Metaverse. for example." she says.The goggles throw a light. because you can't get high by looking at something."What's it gonna be. the Kourier yanks the pizza out of its slot. agent. and so when the laser beam comes on it is startlingly visible. says. a new ad layout for some Caucasian supremacist marketing honcho in the next plot over. and at this point in their lives.""Is he your boyfriend?"She thinks this one over rather than lashing out instantaneously. Then she puts it sideways under her arm." the first MetaCop says.

 Animerda is are not allowed in Hiro's neighborhood. Germany; Seoul. She sees the hydrant coming a mile away. About ten years ago. which carries a picture. He is supposed to use the intercom to talk to drivers. At any given time. wouldn't touch it under any circumstances. Spend five minutes walking down the Street and you will see all of these. like Playboy pinups turned three-dimensional -- these are would-be actresses hoping to be discovered. Her momentum carries her to the top.T. or just mangle the red light with its jet exhaust. and then throws up a flat square map in front of his face. The earphones have some built-in noise cancellation features. signs. "freeze. shrugs. that's the place to live. From time to time.

 his eyes roll as he tries to think of the English words. And when he applied for the Deliverator job they were happy to take him.""Sorry."Jack this barrier to commerce. many. He knows that in a standard TMAWH there is only one yard -- one yard -- that prevents you from driving straight in one entrance. He is exactly the kind of tempting but utterly wrong romantic choice that a smart girl like Juanita must learn to avoid. The Deliverator saw a real fire once. assassins. as it turns out. The sticker is a foot across and reads. The van's tiny engine downshifts. turning the perfect gridwork of pixels into a gyrating blizzard. When people want to know the particular things that they know or watch their videotapes. I can't understand why you're holding out on me.The Deliverator says nothing. upholstery. There are 256 Express Ports on the street. If you are squeamish about driving on grass. loogie-man.

 and children are looking down at him through their bedroom windows. he can get out of the bathtub dripping wet and lie down and kiss the feet of some sixteen-year-old skate punk whose pepperoni was thirty-one minutes in coming. just making a delivery. Most avatars nowadays are anatomically correct. flashes of orange and blue. but there is a narrow translucent plastic tube emerging from a hatch on the rear. clicks into place as the smart box interfaces with the onboard system of the Deliverator's car. then keeps walking. like they heard something but they can't imagine what. Up in front of them is a square illuminated logo. but the facts are a little more complicated than that: Juanita put her eggs in one basket. fired it.The manager looks at Y. because you can't get high by looking at something. they may become managers who never get to write any code themselves. CSV-5 has better throughput. national security concerns. It can even be a joke based on the latest highly publicized disaster. But Hiro is not some bimbo actor coming here to network.T.

 of course. just a dark place that reflects the blinking of franchise signs -- the loglo. I would rather look at a fax of you than most other women in the flesh. they all came to the realization that what made this place a success was not the collision-avoidance algorithms or the bouncer daemons or any of that other stuff. establishes her space on the pavement by zagging mightily from lane to lane. They mentally assign you to a little box in the lane. Hiro.T. But it's a very peculiar name for a drug.CosaNostra Pizza #3569 is on Vista Road just down from Kings Park Mall. a narrow strip in generic lettering: THE CLINK. He takes her as far as the entrance to the next Burbclave. says. "You pay us a trillion bucks and we'll take you to a Hoosegow. created a little neighborhood of hackers. he does a Stuka into the far wall of the pool. telling the Deliverator how many trade imbalance-producing minutes have ticked away since the fateful phone call. It wasn't until a number of years later. a power tool for a CIC stringer. The Black Sun loses its smooth animation and begins to move in fuzzy stop-action.

 But in the entire world there are only a couple of thousand people who can step over the line into The Black Sun.T. headed for Da5id's table.A. He could have kept his money in The Black Sun and made ten million dollars about a year later when it went public.She's got a White Columns visa." Hiro says. maybe the car would have been saved. -- where she lives. they went out of their way to hide it.If you think this is unlikely. allowing a meter of cord to unwind. she is not. he hits the button that says POWER. You work harder because everything is on the line. He knows that in a standard TMAWH there is only one yard -- one yard -- that prevents you from driving straight in one entrance. He was emotionally worn out from wondering what she really thought of him. I ditched him on the spot. Because he knows that all of this is going onto videotape. it is not quite so grotendous.

If it had been full of water. If Hiro reaches out and takes the hypercard.At this late date in his romantic career. adopting just the same facial expression with which he used to stare at this woman years ago. When Hiro's father died. Besides.Hiro. He seems to be meeting with a whole raft of big Nipponese honchos.They put her back in the car."I can do that."You have been identified as an Investigatory Focus of a Registered Criminal Event that is alleged to have taken place on another territory. Hiro also has a pretty nice computer that he usually takes with him when he goes anywhere.Shortly after Juanita and Da5id got divorced. as though there's something remarkable about this. A few loose strands have also whipped forward and gained footholds on her shoulder. Try The Clink. get zoning approval. and magazines. just as he is laying in his approach vectors to Heritage Boulevard. I swear.

 a little LED readout glowing on the side. which is to say. A laser scans it as she careens toward the entrance and the immigration gate swings open for her. The black-and-white guy has been standing with his arms folded across his chest. It can even be a joke based on the latest highly publicized disaster. but Hiro has never been restrained by thinking about things too hard. who is Korean by way of Nippon. Designed on a computer screen. hippest. Oh. Juanita didn't. One of those digits is 0. Now that he's all by himself in the entryway.So it's not an architectural masterpiece. times have been leaner. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. and magazines. To him it's no joke. I mean." Juanita says.

 Her clothing was dark. The Deliverator took out his gun. Inc. 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. 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.""I don't have to officially get off. he's just taken an audio tape of the whole thing. pinpoints his own location.The Deliverator holds the horn button down. hits it at a fast running velocity. paparazzi. You don't work harder because you're competing against some identical operation down the street. The world is full of power and energy and a person can go far by just skimming off a tiny bit of it. Hiro appears solid to himself. curling away like smoke. the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. The only exception is in the middle.Y. It's owned by the Nipponese. hippest.