SNOW CRASH

can get drafted. Obviously, Nova Siciia has its own security, too. Narcolombia doesn’t need security because people are scared just to drive past the franchise at less than a hundred miles an hour (Y.T. always snags a nifty power boost in neighborhoods thick with Narcolombia consulates), and Mr. Lee’s Greater Hong Kong, the grandaddy of all FOQNEs, handles it in a typically Hong Kong way, with robots.

MetaCops’ main competitor, WorldBeat Security, handles all roads belonging to Cruiseways, plus has worldwide contracts with Dixie Traditionals, Pickett’s Plantation, Rainbow Heights (check it out-two apartheid Burbclaves and one for black suits), Meadowvale on the [insert name of river] and Brickyard Station. WorldBeat is smaller than MetaCops, handles more upscale contracts, supposedly has a bigger espionage arm-though if that’s what people want, they just talk to an account rep at the Central Intelligence Corporation.

And then there’s The Enforcers-but they cost a lot and don’t take well to supervision. It is rumored that, under their uniforms, they wear Tshirts bearing the unofficial Enforcer coat of arms: a fist holding a nightstick, emblazoned with the words SUE

ME.

So Y.T. is coasting down a gradual slope toward the heavy iron gate of White Columns, waiting for it to roll aside, waiting, waiting-but the gate does not seem to be opening. No laser pulse has shot out of the guard shack to find out who Y.T. is. The system has been overridden. If Y.T. was a stupid ped she would go up to the MetaCop and ask him why. The MetaCop would say, “The security of the city-state,” and nothing more. These Burbclavesf These city-statesl So small, so insecure, that just about everything, like not mowing your lawn, or playing your stereo too loud, becomes a national security issue.

No way to skate around the fence; White Columns has eight. foot iron, robo-wrought, all the way around. She rolls up to the gate, grabs the bars, rattles it, but it’s too big and solid to rattle.

MetaCops aren’t allowed to lean against their Unit-makes them look lazy and weak. They can almost lean, look like they’re leaning, they can even brandish a big leaning-against-the-car ‘tisde like this particular individual, but they can’t lean. Besides, with the complete, glinting majesty of their Personal Portable