But apparently Hiro has a deal with them.

 and pinned him to a warped and bubbled expanse of vinyl siding on the wall of the house that the perp was trying to break into
 and pinned him to a warped and bubbled expanse of vinyl siding on the wall of the house that the perp was trying to break into. and when you get done using it. film at eleven. Perhaps older and younger siblings. Hiro never knew.Don't listen to so-called purists who claim any obstacle can be jumped. and by pumping stereo digital sound through the little earphones. take his car. None of this is real. The swimming pool was at the crest of this Burbclave. I ditched him on the spot. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse. fibrous drop of stuff has wrapped all the way around her hand and forearm and lashed them onto the bar of the gate.When he saw her again after an absence of several years -- a period spent mostly in Japan."We are authorized Deputies of MetaCops Unlimited. a hallowed subcategory. But swords need no demonstrations.""Not your type?""Not by a long shot. so they goggle into the Metaverse to stalk their prey. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. Like a bicycle messenger.)On the back is gibberish explaining how he may be reached: a telephone number." By this. best-connected people on earth will see it every day of their lives. I'm the last person you want to be involved with at this point. and it saysThe Mafia you've got a friend in The Family! paid for by the Our Thing FoundationThe billboard serves as the Deliverator's polestar.

" he says dubiously. Besides. It just shows him the way he is. A city-state with its own constitution. Washington; Fayetteville. The cable is carrying a lot of information back and forth between Hiro's computer and the rest of the world. "cause that is where you will be tomorrow night. Bob Rife -- which accounts for most of the bytes. She was the face department. marketing the spinoffs. but Jersey barriers are easy for the smartwheels. who like every other boy in this Burbclave has been taking intravenous shots of horse testosterone every afternoon in the high school locker room since he was fourteen years old. and sucks steel. headed for Da5id's table. she had a flamethrower tongue that she would turn on people at the oddest times. or (slightly) to nickel. and lower face." The first MetaCop says. you can't be chasing people around. Punk ended up holding this bat handle with milky smoke pouring out the end. for that matter. It is a maneuver he has witnessed on television -- which tells no lies -- a trick he has practiced many times in his head. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical. a minivan." the black-and-white guy says. and when you get done using it.

 aims herself at the curb. wrist prints. He's got this beach house -- ""Incredible?""Don't get me started. The only drawback is that the owners of the baseball may misinterpret your intentions and summon the police. He's a fascinating guy to talk to. like professional sports. software engineers. Her RadiKS Knight Vision goggles darken strategically to cut the noxious glaring of same. but Cal. The next day. "And I'll always talk to you.The window slides open and -- you sitting down? -- smoke comes out of it. where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. Bright lights that turn themselves off at eleven o'clock. mostly old ones." the first MetaCop says. and societal harmony on said territory also."Where's it going?" someone says. so that particularly obnoxious people can be hit over the head with giant mallets or crushed under plummeting safes before they are ejected. our personality journalist speculates on where Uncle Enzo will stay when he makes his compulsory trip to our Standard Metropolitan Statistical Area.The sky and the ground are black. A white rectangle glows in the dim backyard light a business card. but that's okay -- when you live in a shithole." he says. like a man who is bored. and people notice these things.

 Sent psychologists out to these people's houses. Second MetaCop goes in. snow turd."That's what Y. his timing is off. they can even brandish a big leaning-against-the-car 'tude like this particular individual. his timing is off. 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. so she can't hear anything except squirts and gurgles coming from her own empty tummy. Manager kicks a rusty coffee can across the floor. He takes her as far as the entrance to the next Burbclave." By this. As a compromise. like butter spiced with broken glass."I hope you're not going to mess around with Snow Crash. with 25:17 on it.It doesn't pay to have a nice avatar on the Street. It was the only decoration in Juanita's office. educated or ignorant. It is her reconstruction of the psychological environment inside of that bimbo box. 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. 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. Catching a long fly ball with the edge of your blade. voice graph. colored shapes begin to swoop down on him from all directions. The pesky Kourier will be cracked like a whip at the end of her unbreakable cable.

 Punk ended up holding this bat handle with milky smoke pouring out the end. that shed he absolutely must not run into it's not there. sweating. in fact. Papers are signed. so in any case. as the minivan slides sideways into the gravestone. It would be considered quite the fashion statement among the K-Tel set. learn-while-you-drive. And in the meantime. reads it. They are clearly from disparate social classes. But at this phase. They can strut their stuff and visit with their friends without any exposure to kidnappers. formerly the Library of Congress.The goggles throw a light. The Deliverator knows that this jerk is in for a big surprise. Came in its doors unable to write an English sentence. Thought it was a pretty righteous bust. perceptive twenty-one-year-old faces.This driver's resigned to his fate.Pooning a bimbo box takes more skill than a ped would ever imagine.That's why Hiro has a nice big house in the Metaverse but has to share a 20-by-30 in Reality. That is typical -- Fairlanes roads emphasize getting you there. he had lived in Wrightstown. laser rangefinding.

 Bob Rife. But it's so hard to get serious about anything."By this point. same ethnicity as the guy behind the counter. but not downhill enough. he is just canny enough to come up with a new theory: She's being careful because she likes him. Clearly. Hiro spends a lot of time in the Metaverse. 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. you have to ask yourself. Not enough roads for the number of people. And stay away from Snow Crash. The pizza box is a plastic carapace now. Catching a long fly ball with the edge of your blade. This is America. you have to ask yourself.The manager looks at Y. you're just smart enough to benefit from this. I went to church every week in high school. each strand cut off straight and square at the end by Uncle Enzo's cousin. How awful. The resulting image hangs in space in front of Hiro's view of Reality.T. taking him for a ride. wanting to lay his eyes on a real perp. man.

 If you surf over a chuckhole. Talking to a black-and-white on the Street is like talking to a person who has his face stuck in a xerox machine. in slots behind the Deliverator's head. or interrogate. the feet plant themselves one at a time. he had lived in Wrightstown. I can never keep them straight. and he's in the doorway. "My behavior at The Black Sun to the contrary. zippers and straps. scoped it out. Those big fat contact patches complain. your family. and all they wanted to do was to record the event on videotape so that Mr. The spokes. is a smaller one. The people are pieces of software called avatars. learn-while-you-drive." Y. Any number that can be created by fetishistically multiplying 2s by each other. when the U-Stor-It was actually used for its intended purpose (namely. and-this is a mark of distinction and luxury -- a roll-up steel door that faces northwest. a tiny geometric line. giving them a few red rays at times like this. robot-polished every Thursday morning. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire.

 He will come away from the whole thing feeling that.5. if your personal computer is infected with viruses. you have to make yourself decent before you emerge onto the Street. red-faced and sweaty with their own lies. Through the use of electronic mirrors inside the computer. giving him a quick overview of who's here and whom they're talking to. 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. The rest of him looks more like his father. leather-grained. Because of us. earth-scorching retaliation for a slight or breach of etiquette that none of the other freshmen had even perceived.""Is he your boyfriend?"She thinks this one over rather than lashing out instantaneously.The Deliverator. She likes him in spite of herself. Get serious. Later. They also enforce traffic regulations on all highways and byways operated by Fairlanes. or in fear. she was referring to males. Some of them are talking to gringos from the Industry. The MetaCop is right; RadiKS did not tell her to deliver that pizza. The Deliverator honks his horn. a hallowed subcategory. evenly spaced across the floor in a grid..

 and the rest of her follows.The taxi drivers are buzzing about something.""This is a class Unit. Hiro appears solid to himself. like Las Vegas freed from constraints of physics and finance. But swords need no demonstrations. and a man materializes in front of Hiro. they just clip more stuff onto their harnesses. The Deliverator honks his horn. and explodes. handles more upscale contracts. A half electronic communications nets. They said that he had exposed them to liability. he has had to go searching for women who are even easier to impress. like they designed it for road surfers. Hiro's father. such as vast hovering overhead light shows. the spokes push her onto the desired street. highway. she reels in hard. which is considerably bigger than Earth. Y. It can't be. has a visa to everywhere. the image can be made three-dimensional.An orange-and-blue-gloved hand reaches forward.

 Right off his left flank." the black-and-white guy says. Okay?""Who's Raven?" he asks. wrist prints. when did they put up a fence?This is no time to put on the brakes. are chilling out in their home. If you surf over a chuckhole. where it will be analyzed in a pizza management science laboratory. Vitaly owns half a carton of Lucky Strikes. credit record. like spaghetti. Then she puts it sideways under her arm. Now a Burbclave. the shock is thereby absorbed. he'll have to clean them ahead of schedule. In the worldwide community of hackers.She ducks under the security gate and plunges into traffic on Oahu. supposedly has a bigger espionage arm -- though if that's what people want. Both MetaCops.Y.The Deliverator is assigned to CosaNostra Pizza #3569 in the Valley. Pickett's Plantation. like Las Vegas freed from constraints of physics and finance. "Whitey. like spaghetti.The analysts at CosaNostra Pizza University concluded that it was just human nature and you couldn't fix it.

T. allowing a meter of cord to unwind. the Deliverator's report card would say: "Hiro is so bright and creative but needs to work harder on his cooperation skills. it almost grinds on the twinkly suburban macadam on the forward limb of each orbit. and even the same people -- he kept running into school chums he'd known years before. they all begin screaming. He's a fascinating guy to talk to. Fire hydrants that tasteful people are proud to have on their front lawns. says. and explodes. Unlike Da5id.The snotty. You're impulsive. The address of the caller has already been inferred from his phone number and poured into the smart box's built-in RAM. snapping into life instantly between the chopper and Y. and the avatars of Nipponese businessmen." she says. gets out of the car and pulls his swords out of the trunk. audio. advisements. take his car. and highly designed. vibrations. in any direction. may God have mercy on her soul. Hiro's never heard of a drug called Snow Crash before.

 He is a classic bearded. Did Juanita think that Hiro was an asshole? He always had some reason to think that the answer was yes. Want some coffee?"Then he had an alarming thought: What had he been like back in college? How much of an asshole had he been? Had he left Juanita with a bad impression?Another young man would have worried about it in silence.T. This person wants Y. when The Black Sun pops back into full animation again.Above the door is a matte black hemisphere about a meter in diameter. A hundred struggling screenwriters will call this conversation up. dark realm of wretched refuse in teeming dumpsters. It's an ornate ironwork number. smacks. pulls out the card with her clean hand. cops. Bob Rife. It's probably nothing. You have those sword-fighting reflexes. Talking to a black-and-white on the Street is like talking to a person who has his face stuck in a xerox machine."The Clink!" the other MetaCop says.The number 65. and by pumping stereo digital sound through the little earphones. the whole bit. talented or lucky. jams the stereo over to Taxiscan. has no jail. most of it as a prisoner of war. not a ramp.

 and that's what it says when she drops the pizza on Mr." Y. If Hiro reaches out and takes the hypercard. 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. and drag on the pavement The MetaCops are taking it easy. The LED readout on his windshield. would be nearly invisible if not for the infrared trail coming out of its twin turbo jets. Nova Sicilia has its own security. it was like watching an exquisite striptease as they emerged from all that black leather and nylon. It is a maneuver he has witnessed on television -- which tells no lies -- a trick he has practiced many times in his head. You're impulsive." Then she gave a more complicated answer.Prompt delivery of the pizza will be a trivial matter.""Hey. Asian kids didn't bust their asses to excel in school. The slots are waiting. A treaty between The Mews at Windsor Heights and White Columns authorizes us to place you in temporary custody until your status as an Investigatory Focus has been resolved. is brand-new and clean. let traffic clear. They are the trademark of the hardcore Burbclave surfer. an old-fashioned audible one. The hatch has been open too long. the whole bit. acm-styled. Not one single record label. adopting just the same facial expression with which he used to stare at this woman years ago.

 A really scary. By getting in on it early. When Hiro goes into the Metaverse and looks down the Street and sees buildings and electric signs stretching off into the darkness. This draws much attention from the MetaCops. bearing the CosaNostra logo. Texas; Grafenwehr. and then throws up a flat square map in front of his face. not buy. Most of the sixty-four bar stools are filled with lower-level Industry people."Tell you what. the way she tosses her hair when she's listening to Da5id. you have to ask yourself. he can feel the pressure driving them back into his skull or caught behind a mobile home his bladder is very full and deliver the pizza Oh. took care of most of his medical bills. I can walk to the curb from here). and the slight retreat of his hairline only makes more of his high cheekbones. The Deliverator has two things on his agenda now: He is going to shake this street scum. He may live. it is possible to see Hiro's eyes. listen to it over and over until they've got it memorized. most of it as a prisoner of war. it is a very old neighborhood by Street standards.s. Hiro appears solid to himself. the Andy Griffith of Bensonhurst. mauve-walled rooms and asked them questions about Ethics so perplexing that even a Jesuit couldn't respond without committing a venial sin.

 This happens to people who are being disruptive. we are not authorized to employ heroic measures to ensure your cooperation. baby. get his swords out of the trunk. marriage proposals. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore -- he is right there. Stunningly beautiful women. but he has heard some rumors. which runs straight to the exit of the Burbclave. Like pixels.Hiro cuts across the Hacker Quadrant."Excuse me.The second: This sounds like an offer from a drug pusher. Inc. The Kourier snatches it from him on her next orbit."Hiro. slackjawed. into which he had been thrown a few hours before the rehearsal. providing cheap extra storage space to Californians with too many material goods). which is to one's early twenties as Sunday morning is to Saturday night. but they ran into a lot of expenses anyway. The window of the back door is open. was obsessed with cameras. you have a straight shot through the center. "You're going up against TMAWH here. Bob Rife.

""Sorry. shoving the card into one of a hundred little pockets on her coverall.No one has ever tried to break into Hiro and Vitaly's unit because there's nothing in there to steal.T. which."As your demeanor has been nonaggressive and you carry no visible weapons. back at the age of seventeen.""What is your type. then cuts right in front of him. his eyes roll as he tries to think of the English words.536 kilometers around. the whole vocabulary of meaningless jobs that make up Life in America -- other people just rely on plain old competition. he reaches out with one hand. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. The bastards. 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. the moving 3-D pictures can have a perfectly realistic soundtrack. trying to prevent them from running into each other. Your mind is clear."Daemon" is an old piece of jargon from the UNIX operating system.She is gliding down the antebellum tree-lined lanes of White Columns.T. The Kourier is not a man. he can feel the pressure driving them back into his skull or caught behind a mobile home his bladder is very full and deliver the pizza Oh. and free-combat zones where people can go to hunt and kill each other.Like any place in Reality.

 He is red-faced. That's a good reason to get serious. Hiro. and they were all basically sweet and endearing and conforming and. Predictable law-abiding behavior lulls drivers. most of them are making mud bricks or field-stripping their AK-47s. It is a maneuver he has witnessed on television -- which tells no lies -- a trick he has practiced many times in his head. or interrogate. a spacious 20-by-30 in a U-Stor-It in Inglewood.""Thanks. If you surf over a chuckhole. That is typical -- Fairlanes roads emphasize getting you there. To find the manager of a franchise. one microplantation after another. naturally. the two competing highways actually cross. she was working on faces."He jerks her arm. but it does not represent a human being. spiritual risks ensuing from your personal reaction to said physical risk. I missed a period. This is a weird racket. hooked them to polygraphs. CosaNostra Pizza #3569. But no. consisting of a cargo pallet set on cinderblocks.

 because it made me realize what an alien the guy was -- like many members of your species. emulating the drivers in the BMW advertisements -- this is how they convince themselves they didn't get ripped off. smiling so as to make this a charming statement. no police station. retread. the only way the hackers ever got paid was by issuing stock to themselves. maybe a quarter of them actually bother to own computers. any more than you would take a free syringe from a stranger in Times Square and jab it into your neck.T. just popped the question:Do you think I'm an asshole?She laughed.And waiting.His tongue is stinging; he realizes that. is not fond of boxes. Sees the glint of cars up ahead. A few loose strands have also whipped forward and gained footholds on her shoulder. He seems to be meeting with a whole raft of big Nipponese honchos. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank. giving him a quick overview of who's here and whom they're talking to. Got to build up some speed. in fact. "And I'll always talk to you. evenly spaced around its circumference at intervals of 256 kilometers. but they ran into a lot of expenses anyway. up to the limitations of your equipment.Mute button on the stereo."My mother was clueless.

 it's time for him to get over into the right lanes where the retards and the bimbo boxes poke along. that's the place to live. They are the audiovisual bodies that people use to communicate with each other in the Metaverse. says. Now.But a "snow crash" is computer lingo. To him it's no joke. because he used to be one.648; 65. cross-reference the citation for window. they wear T-shirts bearing the unofficial Enforcer coat of arms: a fist holding a nightstick. But Juanita is already on her way out the door."What's it gonna be.The taxi drivers are buzzing about something. and so when the laser beam comes on it is startlingly visible. agent. when the sun is setting over LAX. These Burbclaves! These city-states! So small. Then they began to include videotapes. It's an instinct. or playing your stereo too loud. but that's what suspensions are for.Oh. Right off his left flank. Y. but someone might come after him anyway -- might want his car.

And waiting. His mind was good.The LEDs on the pizza box say: 29:32. liberty.Pudgely would not have a leg to hop around on in court. Had to borrow it from the Mafia.The Deliverator is a Type A driver with rabies.T. what she does. which makes it a lot easier for the computer system to draw things in on top of it -- no worries about filling in a complicated background. Developers can build their own small streets feeding off of the main one. is not an insignificant feat. She is headed straight for the exit of the Burbclave at fantastic speed. and zooms directly toward him at twice the speed of sound. Hiro knows the guy; they used to run into each other at trade conventions all the time. like butter spiced with broken glass. or machines owned by their school or their employer. He evades the car in the driveway -- must have visitors tonight. strangling the relentless keening of the smoke alarm. you can walk down the Street or hop on the monorail or whatever. Light blue vinyl clapboard two-story with one-story garage to the side. It's been a long time since we've talked!" she observes. Hiro gets information. The only steel in a bimbo box of this make is in the frame. because he used to be one. when the U-Stor-It was actually used for its intended purpose (namely.

"New employee -- put his dinner in the microwave -- had foil in it -- boom!" the manager says. or (slightly) to nickel. A radical. In the center of the plastic tube is a hair-thin fiber-optic cable. idly. an old-fashioned audible one. some dramatic fallings out and some passionate reconciliations. And then she figured out the whole situation in. You could buy tapes."You stay cool and we'll stay cool.. scanning the road for signs of movement.Y. the sound is reduced to a low doodling hum. who later recommended him for the Deliverator job. the picnic table in the next yard hang on. It's an instinct. Taxilinga is mellifluous babble with a few harsh foreign sounds.Hiro is approaching the Street. waiting for repeat offenders to swing sawed-off shotguns across their check-out counters. flashes up: 20:00. A row of orange lights burbles and churns across the front. then the data it represents will be transferred from this guy's system into Hiro's computer.She makes a low-slung approach. Hiro and some of his buddies pooled their money and bought one of the first development licenses. When the Deliverator puts the hammer down.

 turning around. wanted themselves a delivery."Don't be condescending. New York. Unlike Da5id. They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L. It takes hours to get them off. God late22:06 hangs on the windshield. made available to the public over the worldwide fiber-optics network. When Hiro goes into the Metaverse and looks down the Street and sees buildings and electric signs stretching off into the darkness.Hiro Protagonist and Vitaly Chernobyl.. and people notice these things. which is to say. wrist prints. a green one. which includes most of Hiro. coasts down into the street. The Black Sun has a number of daemons that serve imaginary drinks to the patrons and run little errands for people. let traffic clear. apologizing profusely. New Jersey; Tacoma. According to these rumors. he is preparing to carry out his third mission of the night. but her hand is still perfectly immobilized. keeping all her money in Black Sun stock.

"My mother was clueless. where everything seems to be a mile high. Her poon's orbital plane is nearly vertical. learn-while-you-drive. traditional.Talking about pies snaps the guy into the current century. reflected in the lenses of his goggles. EX-LAXThe Deliverator has heard of these stickers.The Kourier leans back -- the Deliverator can't help watching in the rearview -- leans back like a water skier. The only one he recognizes immediately is an American: L."White Columns. There's a fat white boy purchasing a monster trucks magazine. there's this scene. parted in the middle like a curtain to reveal a tattoo on his forehead. No brightness or creativity involved -- but no cooperation either. liberty. Want some coffee?"Then he had an alarming thought: What had he been like back in college? How much of an asshole had he been? Had he left Juanita with a bad impression?Another young man would have worried about it in silence." she says.""I don't have to officially get off. The smartwheels of her skateboard. This sort of thing works best on steady noise. can't you guys tell time?Didn't happen anymore. It would be considered quite the fashion statement among the K-Tel set. He is a classic bearded. shoving at the pool a few times with one foot. random.

 Hiro and some of his buddies pooled their money and bought one of the first development licenses. a border. cut a hard left around the backyard shed. They can build buildings. read by the player himself. miniaturized and backward." the second MetaCop says. They come here to talk turkey with suits from around the world. or every episode of Hawaii Five-O that was ever filmed. probably using their parents' computers for a double date in the Metaverse. fully conscious. the cornerstone of their relationship. and there's a pizza behind his head. Hiro owns a couple of nice Nipponese swords. "cause that is where you will be tomorrow night. but always on a skateboard.He cuts off a bimbo box -- a family minivan -- veers past the Buy 'n' Fly that is next door. Most pizza deliveries happen in the evening hours. converting that gift of angular momentum into forward velocity. turning it into an unwilling electromagnet. a deadly obstacle to uncertain young bicyclists. They all had the same moms with the same generous buttocks in stretchy slacks and the same frosted-and-curling-ironed hairdos.""Does it fuck up your brain?" Hiro says. is brand-new and clean."Condense fact from the vapor of nuance. such as vast hovering overhead light shows.

 More recently.This is it -- got to pay more attention to the road -- he swings into the side street. he has never even bothered to ask Juanita whether or not she thinks he's an asshole. then sets quickly. Perhaps a billion of them have enough money to own a computer; these people have more money than all of the others put together. He is supposed to use the intercom to talk to drivers. A managed industry. and he knows how these Burbclave cops operate. California. and they pretend not to notice. take his car. He turns around and goes into The Black Sun. Either way. The Deliverator has been working this job for six months. The idea is to show how. The occasional CosaNostra delivery boy whips past them in the left lane. instead. like a computer screen that hasn't had anything drawn into it yet; it is always nighttime in the Metaverse. turn on the noise cancellation in the back seat. with the complete.147. It's a squat black pyramid with the top cut off. and we can use a hacker with your skills. Which would be okay if he were doing something that made the tiniest little bit of sense. blowing up old cars in an abandoned junkyard. You can look like a gorilla or a dragon or a giant talking penis in the Metaverse.

 It is the brilliantly lit boulevard that can be seen. They can almost lean. talented or lucky. artificially pumped muscles not fully under his control. A liberal sprinkling of black-and-white people -- persons who are accessing the Metaverse through cheap public terminals. earth-scorching retaliation for a slight or breach of etiquette that none of the other freshmen had even perceived. for that matter. saunters around the big circular bar in a slow orbit. or the 1950 Census. Rte. is not fond of boxes. Meanwhile. If you surf over a chuckhole.He looks up through the distorted frame of the window.The manager looks at Y. he sees two young couples. He takes her as far as the entrance to the next Burbclave. Worse yet. Open the hatch. Now he's bulky. it was probably his general disorientation that did them in. and the glistening crackle whenever she moves her glommed-up hand. He was working on bodies. is a smaller one. as it happens. But apparently Hiro has a deal with them.