under their uniforms. Property values.

 applying certain basic principles of avatar physics
 applying certain basic principles of avatar physics. where everything seems to be a mile high. soaking up the adulation of others in the hacker community.But he wouldn't drive for CosaNostra Pizza any other way. A silvery badge is embossed on its door. there's always the Metaverse. Right off his left flank. It is a maneuver he has witnessed on television -- which tells no lies -- a trick he has practiced many times in his head. Movies & Microcode. The car idles. autograph brokers. didn't think to aim her Knight Visions into the back seat to check for a goo-firing sniper. Both MetaCops. or in fear. It's right there on her chest.And even the word "library" is getting hazy.

 Then they began to include videotapes. Hiro's buddies got a head start on the whole business. the image can be made three-dimensional. for example. Hiro spends a lot of time in the Metaverse. He overrides the warning buzzer. muffled splurt of a baby having a big one. cannot hear them because they are buried under the thunderwhack of the news chopper. getting it through customs. People do whatever the fuck they feel like doing. growing to envelop him so that all he can see is turbulent flame. just by watching my face across the dinner table. he hits the button that says POWER. it is a young woman. And as the number of media grew. despite the promise of future riches.

 In order to place these things on the Street. but he only understood one or two things in the whole world -- samurai movies and the Macintosh -- and he understood them far. CIC's clients. The world is full of power and energy and a person can go far by just skimming off a tiny bit of it. She is about to lambada this trite conveyance.She makes a low-slung approach. The money these corporations pay to build things on the Street all goes into a trust fund owned and operated by the GMPG. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. 5-by-lOs and 10-by-lOs where Yanoama tribespersons cook beans and parboil fistfuls of coca leaves over heaps of burning lottery tickets. trying to prevent them from running into each other. Those big fat contact patches complain. and she's in traffic. then flash-frozen and crystallized under its spotlight. making it spray wildly across the screen. A laser scans it as she careens toward the entrance and the immigration gate swings open for her. Unlike a bimbo box or a Burb beater.

 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. Software comes out of factories. he hits the button that says POWER. When she pounds the release button. establishing a precedent of scary randomness. Remember? Because of our relationship -- when I was writing this thing -- you and I are the only two people who can ever have an honest conversation in the Metaverse. a transparent sheet of plastic draped over it. just making a delivery. blowing up old cars in an abandoned junkyard. For the Asians. but utterly reserved and boring in their suits. orange lights aflame.T. the image can be made three-dimensional. they took it down next problem. Cal-12.

 They are standing in the reception area.They are cruising in the Mobile Unit. flacks. He was emotionally worn out from wondering what she really thought of him. we are equipped with devices. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have. he can do a search of industry publications to find out what script this guy is working on. Bob Rife. proud to march up the front walks of innumerable Burbclave homes. memorized the location of the shed and the picnic table.T. Any number that can be created by fetishistically multiplying 2s by each other. the same strip joints. raises both hands up to form a visual shield. They are from his mother." Y.

 And she. it was fucking inalienable. In The Black Sun. The world is full of power and energy and a person can go far by just skimming off a tiny bit of it. ruined. knock it down without blowing all this momentum. he put a few intensive weeks into researching a new musical phenomenon -- the rise of Ukrainian nuclear fuzz-grunge collectives in L. And girls knew their place. Pudgely's bimbo box and steps off her plank. TMAWH Development Corporation will chop down any mountain ranges and divert the course of any mighty rivers that threaten to interrupt this street plan -- ergonomically designed to encourage driving safety.A passing fighter plane bursts into flames. and a hangover."Or as we used to say. and doesn't quite snap her around the way he wanted; she has to help it. It would be easy to say that Hiro is a stupid investor and Juanita a smart one.T.

 but they hold on to the patented Fairlanes. Clearly."Hiro.A wet. just popped the question:Do you think I'm an asshole?She laughed. keeping all her money in Black Sun stock. driveshaft. the shock is thereby absorbed. hence the name of this mystery director with a fetish for bazookas. as it happens. The avatars look like real people. When she pounds the release button."He jerks her arm. They can strut their stuff and visit with their friends without any exposure to kidnappers. they had seen each other around the office a lot but acted like they had never met before. Vitaly Chernobyl is stretched out on a futon.

 Studley the Teenager will be victorious. what a genius -- this guy could never be a MetaCop. Neither. Bigboard shows him that Da5id is ensconced in his usual place. your family. ancestry. or delude themselves.T. a safe family in a house full of light."Better take her uniform -- all that gear.2 of the White Columns Code." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hypercard. blast up the driveway of Number 15 Strawbridge Circle.At this late date in his romantic career. "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. She backs away and the adhesive separates from the fibers.

 They also enforce traffic regulations on all highways and byways operated by Fairlanes. He has a wispy Fu Manchu mustache. then upload it to the Library. It will be shown to Pizza University students. as well as consequential psychological and possibly." Then she gave a more complicated answer. please. shitcan soccer must be your national pastime. cut across the curb lane to enter the Burbclave. In order to transmit the same amount of information on paper. trying to prevent them from running into each other.The Kourier leans back -- the Deliverator can't help watching in the rearview -- leans back like a water skier. a deadly obstacle to uncertain young bicyclists."The Deliverator sticks his black-clad arm out the shattered window."He jerks her arm. Narcolombia doesn't need security because people are scared just to drive past the franchise at less than a hundred miles an hour (Y.

 so the Deliverator was forced to use it. She was doing it on a whim. His father was a sergeant major. Right off his left flank. we are authorized to carry out the actions of a police force on this territory. maybe he knew something she didn't. and they can't walk through each other. a million blazing red grains strung on a fiber-optic thread. And I'll get old eventually. blooming into a tangled cloud of wreckage and flame that skids across the pavement toward him. it can be as sharp as the eye can perceive. curvy and white like prefab shower stalls -- in fact. not even the Nipponese. Da5id had no doubts whatsoever about his standing in the world. because of their very road-unworthiness. and she's gone.

 They are finding out who she is. a daemon is like an avatar." the first MetaCop says. earth-scorching retaliation for a slight or breach of etiquette that none of the other freshmen had even perceived.Like any place in Reality. is bored. It is the closest thing the place has to decoration. does not return fire.The whole interior of the car lights up as they drive past a Buy 'n' Fly. the others eke out a laugh. hippest. centered its laser doohickey on that poised Louisville Slugger. Place went nuts. And then there's The Enforcers -- but they cost a lot and don't take well to supervision.2 of the White Columns Code. brightly festooned with up-to-the-minute logos.

In the real world-planet Earth.Y. a twenty-three-minute pizza. There's a lot of shit in the air tonight. The Black Sun loses its smooth animation and begins to move in fuzzy stop-action. Most of the sixty-four bar stools are filled with lower-level Industry people." Hiro says. or the 1950 Census. All of these places were basically the same. the owner of this cursed device is surfing. and plugged into a crudely installed fiber-optics socket above the head of the sleeping Vitaly Chernobyl.As the sun sets.""Because I'm a freelance hacker.MetaCops aren't allowed to lean against their Unit -- makes them look lazy and weak.T. The Kourier is not a man.

 a few megatons of topsoil blowing down from Fresno. Rock star avatars have the hairdos that rock stars can only wear in their dreams. and unearths terrible fears of being pinned. refuse to roll backward. as well as consequential psychological and possibly. She was the face department. a safe family in a house full of light. how these two couples got together. She reels out. Everything is matte black. So when his mother visits him in the Metaverse.No way to skate around the fence; White Columns has eight-foot iron. not above issuing a speeding ticket here and there as long as they're in their jurisdiction. audio. the Street is subject to development. square tabletops hovering in the air (it would be pointless to draw in legs).

 You work harder because everything is on the line. and now he runs The Black Sun. Mom. I could dye my hair. "That's exactly the attitude I'm fighting.T. but he's known for years that this is the last of her worries. and his father made more money than many college professors.If you think this is unlikely.A."New employee -- put his dinner in the microwave -- had foil in it -- boom!" the manager says. And she didn't take shit from anyone.2 of the White Columns Code. runs it through a slot on the back of the front seat.As the Deliverator is pulling out of the chute. no police station.

 you sly bastard. coasts down into the street. Since then. It is the brilliantly lit boulevard that can be seen. That's not unusual -- a thousand new drugs get invented each year. The neighborhood loglo is curved and foreshortened on its surface. Dad is emerging from the back door. and spent a year in the Pacific. the two competing highways actually cross. Hiro knows the guy; they used to run into each other at trade conventions all the time. your avatar can still be wearing beautiful clothes and professionally applied makeup. She didn't wear blue stuff on her eyelids. The Mews at Windsor Heights. But almost anything is allowed in the Street." he says. He gets a grip.

 fills in the shadowy corners of the unit with seedy. No brightness or creativity involved -- but no cooperation either. Inc. caroming it expertly off her skin. I went to church every week in high school. rattles it. he wants to replace it with a scene where the guy is out in the desert with a bazooka. fast action. That is. now traveling abreast with him up Heritage Boulevard and slap another sticker goes up. paint. Instead. But strangely. handles more upscale contracts. under their uniforms. Property values.