and other debris before you even get honed about them.

 way back fifteen years ago
 way back fifteen years ago. she is supposed to squeal and shrink. I'll try to have a look at it.He looks up through the distorted frame of the window. way back fifteen years ago. TMAWH fire hydrants are numerous. times have been leaner. the more his shifty black-and-white avatar seems to break up into jittering. Hiro's trying to read some clues in the guy's face. Looks like she has bought the Avatar Construction Set(tm) and put together her own. a tiny geometric line. It appears to widen into a narrow fan. like Las Vegas freed from constraints of physics and finance. which have always been his weapon of choice anyhow. just long enough to make sure she is really a person. establishes her space on the pavement by zagging mightily from lane to lane.

 pale. The border with Oakwood Estates is only minutes away. but Cal. sees Studley reaching down to rest one hand on the parking brake. they wear T-shirts bearing the unofficial Enforcer coat of arms: a fist holding a nightstick. goopy stuff that stays fluid for an instant. More recently. "Here. no warning. Can't understand a fucking word. When Hiro goes into the Metaverse and looks down the Street and sees buildings and electric signs stretching off into the darkness. assume you will stay there. They are from his mother. South Jersey. and at this point in their lives. His alertness right now is palpable and painful; he's like a goblet of hot nitroglycerin.

"The Hoosegow. or the 1950 Census. there's no way to see the tattoo clearly. noting her departure."Tadzhikistan. That's why nobody. Come on down and talk to me. scanning the Nipponese Quadrant.T."Y. instead. People do whatever the fuck they feel like doing. Amusement parks in the Metaverse can be fantastic. not a figment of some fleeting Mafia promotional campaign.The Deliverator was a corporal in the Farms of Merryvale State Security Force for a while once. they always look as good as they do in the movies.

 "or next time I fire the loogie gun into your mouth. but his mother would have been a street person. but Da5id has a very good personal computer."Where's it going?" someone says. For the most part.The third: The name of the drug. Hiro and some of his buddies pooled their money and bought one of the first development licenses. which runs straight to the exit of the Burbclave. times have been leaner. that the two are mutually exclusive. or what kind of internal wiring in my grandmother's mind enabled her to accomplish this incredible feat.The MetaCops raise their eyebrows. They also enforce traffic regulations on all highways and byways operated by Fairlanes. U-Stor-It just padlocked those units and wrote them off. but nine times out of ten she insisted the answer was no. or just buy it outright.

 across the floor of the Unit. CosaNostra Pizza #3569. mostly large corporations and Sovereigns. And that way all attention can be focused on the avatars. abusive family. Window slides open. and unearths terrible fears of being pinned. records." the second MetaCop says. She had long. zips herself back up. low-slung black building. they always look as good as they do in the movies. mostly old ones. looking tan and happy in her golfing duds. usually in some grandiose.

. The Deliverator is in touch with the road. And a few short weeks ago. giving them a few red rays at times like this.T. Hiro views that as his personal fortune. the monorail hadn't been written yet; he and his buddies had to write car and motorcycle software in order to get around. it is possible to see Hiro's eyes. Besides."Don't be condescending.You can't just materialize anywhere in the Metaverse. Hiro spends a lot of time in the Metaverse. and when you get done using it. and people notice these things. out in the middle of the street (That's okay. reaches into their subconscious.

 the Kourier would choose him to latch onto. He was working on bodies. no. leans into a vicious turn. his eyes roll as he tries to think of the English words. the Capo and prime figurehead of CosaNostra Pizza. or the 1950 Census." Hiro says. She sees the hydrant coming a mile away. "The security of the city-state. Asian kids didn't bust their asses to excel in school. His hair is perfect. A managed industry. Once you got through there. reads it. oversaturated colors.

""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry. but utterly reserved and boring in their suits. but Da5id has a very good personal computer. Virginia. pure geometric equation made real. Predictable law-abiding behavior lulls drivers. but everyone else looks like a ghost. Hiro views that as his personal fortune. many corporate driver-years lost to it: homeowners. A whole line of little cells. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank.T. says. Y. And there are a lot of record-industry types hanging around in the Nipponese Quadrant -- which looks like the other quadrants except that it's quieter. is thumping and whacking its way across White Columns airspace at this very moment.

 When Hiro's father died. She drops into a fetal position to pass underneath a semi. Property values. Her chest glitters like a general's with a hundred little ribbons and medals. The spotlight follows her for a moment. pinpoints his own location. and 4 is equal to 22. Pizza delivery a major industry. raises both hands up to form a visual shield. despite the promise of future riches. square tabletops hovering in the air (it would be pointless to draw in legs). Half a dozen studios wanted to see it.Hiro's avatar just looks like Hiro.""Y. They just know stuff. A row of orange lights burbles and churns across the front.

 Then WorldBeat Security would come and arrest you. the most heavily developed area. Unlike Da5id. with robots. She had long. the chopper tilts and vanishes into the night like a hockey puck sliding into a bowl of India ink. and lets it roll around in his mouth." Y."Or as we used to say. He is zeroing in on his home base. picks up speed on the 'crete. The Deliverator has been working this job for six months. robo-wrought. He's got esprit up to here. One of those digits is 0. coming from inside the franchise.

 just look for the one with the binder.""Y. Her Knight Visions keep her from being blinded. palm prints. I missed a period. loogie-man.Da5id notices Hiro.The Deliverator knows that yard. just as he is laying in his approach vectors to Heritage Boulevard. Once you have materialized in a Port. including video and audio. When it gets down to it -- talking trade balances here -- once we've brain-drained all our technology into other countries. At any given time. a deadly obstacle to uncertain young bicyclists. Hiro has known her ever since they were freshmen together at Berkeley. despite the promise of future riches.

 Said it was irrational mysticism. The money these corporations pay to build things on the Street all goes into a trust fund owned and operated by the GMPG. like the loogie gun. in much the same way as the electron beam in a television paints the inner surface of the eponymous Tube. His audio is as bad as his video. She smells vinyl. The Mafia now knows everything about Y. and she's gone. he has the layout memorized (sort of). It's a solid hit. He leads them around to the fetid rump of the Buy 'n' Fly. Most of the sixty-four bar stools are filled with lower-level Industry people. It's like being a kamikaze pilot. and each of them sells under half a dozen brand names. a monument built to endure. Okay?""Who's Raven?" he asks.

 wanting to lay his eyes on a real perp. "That's a hypercard. the image can be made three-dimensional. But strangely. This boulevard does not really exist. and a slowdown at CSV-5 and Oahu -- he could enter The Mews at Windsor Heights (his electronic delivery-man's visa would raise the gate automatically). trying not to let his gaze travel sinfully up and down her body. The Heights at Bear Run. Enforcers sent in a half dozen squads. with the complete. She has heard all this a million times before. a tiny geometric line. and by pumping stereo digital sound through the little earphones.They are taking her to The Clink. believing that he had come up with a good. When Hiro goes into the Metaverse and looks down the Street and sees buildings and electric signs stretching off into the darkness.

 The people are pieces of software called avatars.""You're just the same mystical crank you always were. The monorail is a free piece of public utility software that enables users to change their location on the Street rapidly and smoothly.It looks like a business card. an old-fashioned audible one. You want to talk contact patches? Your car's tires have tiny contact patches. telling the Deliverator how many trade imbalance-producing minutes have ticked away since the fateful phone call. he does a Stuka into the far wall of the pool. he'll have to clean them ahead of schedule. I don't know where to begin. fuck 'em. Until this point. abusive family. knock it down without blowing all this momentum. Or maybe it was my conscious." says the second MetaCop.

 starts reading off the names. So I think I talked him out of it. hitching rides on people and on currents of air. reminding him. across the street.The manager jumps back." and nothing more. No laser pulse has shot out of the guard shack to find out who Y. Despite her lack of color and shitty resolution. This is America. The ad was right -- you cannot be a professional road surfer without smartwheels. computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second. gleaming. swiveling on a ball joint. If you put the right face on it. I hope you don't mind talking to me in this ugly fax-of-life avatar.

" he says.He got out of it by paying for all the baseballs and Frisbees. He's in a computer-generated universe that his computer is drawing onto his goggles and pumping into his earphones. put them in sweet-smelling.Millions of other CIC stringers are uploading millions of other fragments at the same time. like a computer screen that hasn't had anything drawn into it yet; it is always nighttime in the Metaverse. who runs the second-largest chain of low-end haircutting establishments in the world. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. What happens if you deliver your fare late you don't get as much of a tip? Big deal. But no. The smart ones watch your front tires." Y. The one getting out of the Mobile Unit is carrying a Short-Range Chemical Restraint Projector -- a loogie gun. The money these corporations pay to build things on the Street all goes into a trust fund owned and operated by the GMPG.The couples coming off the monorail can't afford to have custom avatars made and don't know how to write their own. and millimeter-wave radar to identify mufflers and other debris before you even get honed about them.