SNOW CRASH
Da5id is leaning back in his chair, enjoying this. There is some. thing hilariously tawdry about the entire scene.
The Brandy leans forward, beckoning Da5id toward her. Da5id leans into her face, grinning broadly. She puts her crude, ruby-red lips up by his ear and mumbles something that Hiro can’t hear.
When she leans back away from Da5id, his face has changed. He looks dazed and expressionless. Maybe Da5id really looks that way; maybe Snow Crash has messed up his avatar somehow so that it’s no longer tracking Da5id’s true facial expressions. But he’s staring straight ahead, eyes frozen in their sockets.
The Brandy holds the pair of tubes up in front of Da5id’s immobilized face and spreads them apart. It’s actually a scroll. She’s unrolling it right in front of Da5id’s face, spreading it apart like a flat two-dimensional screen in front of his eyes. Da5id’s paralyzed face has taken on a bluish tinge as it reflects light coming out of the scroll.
Hiro walks around the table to look. He gets a brief glimpse of the scroll before the Brandy snaps it shut again. It is a living wall of light, like a flexible, flat-screened television set, and it’s not showing anything at all. Just static. White noise. Snow.
Then she’s gone, leaving no trace behind. Desultory, sarcastic applause sounds from a few tables in the Hacker Quadrant.
Da5id’s back to normal, wearing a grin that’s part snide and part embarrassed.
“What was it?” Hiro says. “I just glimpsed some snow at the very end.”
“You saw the whole thing,” Daid says. “A fixed pattern of blackand-white pixels, fairly high-resolution. Just a few hundred thousand ones and zeroes for me to look at.”
“So in other words, someone just exposed your optic nerve to what, maybe a hundred thousand bytes of information,” Hiro says.
“Noise, is more like it.”
“Well, all information looks like noise until you break the code,” Hiro says.
“Why would anyone show me information in binary code? I’m not a computer. I can t read a bitmap.”
“Relax, Da5id, I’m just shifting you,” Hiro says.