#automatic inductive door

[jstor]

Alexander Miles, a prominent African-American inventor of the late 19th century, is best known for his groundbreaking invention - elevator doors that could open and close automatically. This invention transformed the safety of elevator rides, with automatic doors now considered a standard feature in modern elevators.

Born on May 18, 1838, in Circleville, Ohio, Alexander Miles was the son of Michael and Mary Miles. As a young adult, he relocated to Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he worked as a barber throughout the 1860s. It was while living in Winona, Minnesota, in 1870, that he met Candace J. Dunlap from New York City, who later became his wife. After the birth of their daughter, Grace, the family moved to Duluth, Minnesota.

In Duluth, Miles enjoyed significant success as a barber, setting up a barbershop in the four-story St. Louis Hotel. He smartly invested his savings into purchasing a real estate office. His business acumen led to him becoming the first Black member of the Duluth Chamber of Commerce. In 1884, Miles constructed a three-story brownstone building in an area that later came to be known as the “Miles Block.”

While taking elevator rides in his buildings, Miles noticed the dangerous risks associated with manually operated elevator shaft doors being left open. Determined to solve this problem, he invented a mechanism that allowed elevator shaft doors to operate at the correct times. The mechanism, which involved a flexible belt attached to the elevator cage touching drums positioned along the elevator shaft, automated the elevator doors through a series of levers and rollers. On October 11, 1887, Alexander Miles was granted a patent for his life-saving invention (U.S. Patent 371,207).

In 1899, Miles and his family moved to Chicago, Illinois, where he started The United Brotherhood, a life insurance company for Black customers who were denied coverage by White-owned firms. Eventually, Miles relocated to Seattle, Washington. Prior to his death on May 7, 1918, he was considered the wealthiest Black person in the Pacific Northwest area, largely due to the income from his invention. In recognition of his contributions, Alexander Miles was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2007.

Read more about Alexander Miles here.

[applepiiex]

TRADITION IS NICE ! ! ! RN☤

Frank Langdon x Male!Reader

Your study room is booked. Your caffeine levels are critically low. And Frank Langdon, smug, stupidly hot pre-med golden boy, just waltzed in like he owns the place. You’re a nursing major with no time for egos. He’s a future MD with a smirk you want to wipe clean... or maybe kiss. It’s not love. It’s just academic tension. Really. Probably.

ـــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــ

The study-room door groans open behind you just as you’re color-coding the cranial-nerve assessment flowchart you haveto know by tomorrow’s simulation lab. You don’t bother looking up; your reservation is solid, email confirmation, student-union stamp, all of it. Whoever barges in can take their “I didn’t see the sign-up sheet” excuses somewhere else.

But the voice that fills the tiny room is low, scratchy from too much coffee and too little sleep, and it’s annoyingly nice to listen to.

“Uh—hey. This is Room B-3, right?”

You glance up. He’s tall in that basketball-practice-ran-late, threw-on-a-hoodie kind of way—dark hair still damp at the temples, lanyard with the med-society crest swinging from a finger. Frank Langdon. Pre-med senior, rumor says top percentile on every practice MCAT he’s ever taken, also rumor says he once made a freshman cry in Organic Lab for confusing resonance and induction. And dammit rumor does not say he’s this pretty up close.

“Booked till ten,” you answer, too brisk, pushing your phone screen toward him like a courtroom exhibit. “See? Y/N L. Nursing, junior. Sorry.”

Frank’s eyes flick to the timestamp, then back to you, a crooked grin creeping in.

“Huh. Weird. I always have B-3 on Wednesdays.”

“Congrats. Tradition’s nice. Schedules are nicer.”

He sets his backpack down anyway, casual defiance. “Look, I just need forty-five minutes to run enzyme kinetics flashcards. You can stay—there’s two chairs.”

You snap your binder shut. “Not sharing. I talk out loud. Cardiac-lung auscultation scripts. You’ll hate it.”

Frank crosses his arms. “Lung sounds? Doesn’t the doctor usually handle diagnostics?” He’s teasing, but the edge is there.

There it is, the medical cold war: nurse vs future doctor. You feel your shoulders square automatically.

“Funny,” you say. “Because last week your shadowing cohort dumped vitals on the RN station with the cuff still velcro-looped. We saved you, champ.”

He blinks, then smirks. “Touché.”

A beat of silence. You’re aware, annoyingly, of how his biceps strain under that grey hoodie when he folds them. He’s probably aware you noticed. You hate that it makes your pulse kick up (you’ll log it as sympathetic adrenergic response, purely academic).

Frank exhales. “Okay. Rock-paper-scissor to decide?”

You arch a brow. “We’re adults.”

“So… rock-paper-scissor best of one. Super adult.”

You roll your eyes, but your fingers are already forming a fist. One, two, shoot—

Paper (you) beats rock (him). He drags a hand over his face, laughing.

“Damn. All right, Nurse Ratched. I concede.”

“Did you just compare me to—”

“Only in the authority-figure sense. You wield a mean appointment confirmation.” His smile softens, less cocky now. “Seriously, I’ll go. But, this may be weird, can I borrow that white-board marker? Mine died.”

You hold it out. Your fingers brush; electric cliché zings through your palm. He must feel it too because his Adam’s apple bobs.

He packs up, but before he leaves he pauses at the doorway. “Hey… Y/N, right? Good luck on clinicals.”

You blink, thrown. “Good luck on the big bad MCAT.”

He nods, starts to walk, then half-turns. “For what it’s worth, if I end up in med school across the street next year, I’d be lucky to have a nurse who knows cranial nerves cold.”

Your cheeks warm. “Learn your lung sounds first, Langdon.”

His grin is brighter than the fluorescent strip above you. “Working on it.”

Door clicks shut. You stare at it for a long moment, then at the single marker still warm in your hand before sinking back into your chair, smile tugging despite yourself.

Outside in the hallway Frank palms the  rock-paper-scissor defeat, but there’s a spring in his step anyway. He didn’t get the room, but he did get your name, your laugh, and one hell of a reason to study lung sounds.

He swears he can still feel the brush of your fingertips. Maybe next Wednesday he’ll book B-3 proper. Maybe he’ll bring two coffees, just in case the room is “double-booked” again.

After all, tradition’s nice. Schedules are nicer. Shared ones might be nicest of all.

[motorspexx]

2025 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 - Full Tech Specs and Performance

The 2025 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 marks a new benchmark in American supercar engineering, combining advanced aerodynamics, powertrain innovation, and motorsport-derived performance.

At its core is the LT7 engine, a 5.5-liter twin-turbocharged V8 with a flat-plane crankshaft. This engine produces 1,064 HPr at 7,000 rpm and 825 pound-feet of torque at 6,000 rpm, making it the most powerful V8 engine ever by GM.

The LT7 is a significant evolution of the naturally aspirated LT6 found in the Corvette Z06. Key changes include forged aluminum pistons, strengthened connecting rods, and twin 76 mm ball-bearing turbochargers integrated into the exhaust manifolds. The engine also features an anti-lag system that maintains boost pressure during throttle lift-off, ensuring immediate power delivery when re-engaged.

Power is delivered to the rear wheels via a dual-clutch 8-speed transmission that has been reinforced to handle the increased torque. Chevrolet estimates 0 to 60 mph in 2.3 seconds, with a top speed exceeding 215 mph. In private testing, the 2025 Corvette ZR1 has achieved verified runs over 230 mph, including a peak of 233.

Standard models of the 2025 Corvette ZR1 feature a front splitter, underbody strakes, and an active rear spoiler. With the available ZTK package, the ZR1 gains a large fixed rear wing, dive planes, and additional carbon-fiber components. Combined, these upgrades provide over 1,200 pounds of downforce.

Chassis tuning includes Magnetic Ride Control 4.0 and a track-optimized suspension geometry. The ZR1 is equipped with Michelin tires—20 inches at the front and 21 inches at the rear. Braking is handled by carbon-ceramic rotors, measuring 15.7 inches in front and 15.4 inches in the rear, with electronic brake boost providing consistent stopping power.

Cooling performance has been enhanced through several functional design elements. A center-mounted intercooler evacuates heat through a vented hood, while additional ducts in the front fascia and rear quarter panels direct airflow to critical systems. Roof and rear window have been optimized for thermal management.

2025 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 – Technical Specifications

General Informations Model: 2025 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 Body style: 2-door coupe, mid-engine layout Platform: GM Y2 (C8 architecture) Drive type: Rear-wheel drive Production location: Bowling Green, Kentucky, USA

Powertrain Engine code: LT7 Configuration: 5.5-liter V8, twin-turbocharged, dual overhead cam, flat-plane crankshaft Displacement: 5500 cc Induction: Twin 76 millimeter ball-bearing turbochargers integrated into exhaust manifolds Maximum horsepower: 1064 horsepower at 7000 rpm Maximum torque: 825 pound-feet at 6000 rpm Redline: 8000 rpm Fuel delivery: Direct injection Cooling system: Intercooler with hood vent, front and side intake ducts, roof-integrated airflow, and rear-quarter cooling channels Special features: Anti-lag system, forged aluminum pistons, reinforced connecting rods, dry sump oiling system

Transmission Type: 8-speed dual-clutch automatic Final drive: Strengthened limited-slip differential

Performance Estimates 0 to 60 miles per hour: 2.3 seconds Quarter mile: Estimated 9.5 seconds with ZTK package Top speed: Electronically confirmed runs over 230 mph, with a recorded maximum of 233 mph

Chassis and Suspension Front suspension: Short/long arm configuration with Magnetic Ride Control version 4.0 Rear suspension: Multilink setup with Magnetic Ride Control version 4.0 Braking system: Carbon-ceramic rotors, 15.7 inches front and 15.4 inches rear, with electronic brake boost Steering: Electric power steering with variable ratio

Wheels and Tires Front tires: 275/30 ZR20 Rear tires: 345/25 ZR21 Tire options: Michelin Pilot Sport 4S standard, Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 R optional with ZTK package Wheel sizes: 20 inches by 10 inches front, 21 inches by 13 inches rear Construction: Lightweight forged aluminum

Aerodynamics Standard aero: Front splitter, underbody strakes, active rear spoiler Optional ZTK package: Fixed carbon fiber rear wing, front dive planes, additional carbon fiber components Downforce: Exceeds 1200 pounds with ZTK configuration

Dimensions (estimated) Overall length: 182.3 inches Overall width: 79.7 inches Overall height: 48.6 inches Wheelbase: 107.2 inches Curb weight: 3750 to 3800 pounds depending on configuration

Interior and Technology Driver interface: Digital instrument cluster, performance data recorder Seating options: GT2 and Competition Sport seats Infotainment: Chevrolet Infotainment 3 Premium with 8" touchscreen Audio system: Bose sound system Driver aids: Launch control, performance traction management, customizable drive modes

Optional Packages ZTK Track Performance Package includes track-optimized suspension, Cup 2 R tires, and high downforce aerodynamic components Carbon Fiber Package: carbon trim elements on exterior and interior

MSRP Starting price above 185,000 US dollars

[tubbsmccracken]

Did you know...

Alexander Miles (May 18, 1838 – May 7, 1918) was an African-American inventor best known for being awarded a patent for an automatically opening and closing elevator doors. He was awarded the patent, U.S. Patent 371,207, on October 11, 1887.

Before automatic doors, people had to manually shut both the shaft and elevator doors before riding. Forgetting to do so led to multiple accidents as people fell down elevator shafts. When the daughter of African-American inventor Alexander Miles almost fatally fell down the shaft, he took it upon himself to develop a solution. In 1887 he took out a patent for a mechanism that automatically opens and closes elevator shaft doors and his designs are largely reflected in elevators used today.

He was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2007.

[agent-pennsylvania]

First Contact

“86” as his ODST used to call him, steps off the Pelican boots of his standard issue SPI (Semi-Powered Infiltration) mark II armor clunking as he did. So this was his new home: a ship called the Mother of Invention sounded kind of cool. He hoped this place would be better than his old base...It had been pretty unbearable after the loss of his ODST squad. So when the UNSC had told him he had a new assignment he didn’t question it… He needed to get out of that place anyway. Now he was here, a new start in a way. He was supposed to meet with a man named Brenton Toll for more details of whatever they were doing here.

His mechanical arm whirred quietly as he adjusted his duffle bag to hang over his shoulder. He didn’t have much, just some clothes, extra combat knives... a few momentos... essentials really…

“U-086 over here please...” 86 turned towards the voice, no one but superiors used his full name so that must be Toll? He made his way over giving the dark skinned man a proper Spartan salute minus the fact he was still holding his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Yes, sir...Reporting for duty.” He was nervous… Who wouldn’t be? The UNSC hadn’t told him why he was here, just that he was a good fit for this assignment. The man seemed to look him over, appraising him. 86 was used to that, everyone did that especially to Spartans they were assets not people… He was used to it but the way Toll looked at him was different...creepy even, made his anxiety squirm under his skin.

“At ease, soldier...There’s no need for such formality here 086.” Toll gave a friendly smile, but 86 thought it was weird that he actually said the zero instead of just 86. “Welcome to the Mother of Invention or MOI as everyone likes to call her. You’ll be one of our agents from now on, Agent Pennsylvania to be exact. I hope you can get along well with the others… Now if you don’t mind we need to get you properly equipped as one of us… and we have a few evaluations we’d like you to complete so we can match you properly with any assignments we send you on. This way please...” Toll said as he started to walk away.

86 no Agent Pennsylvania, had no trouble keeping up with the man’s pace as he followed along behind him. While at the same time taking in the sights and sounds of his new home.

Toll took him into a showroom of sorts displaying quite a few different prototype MJOLNIR armors. Agent Pennsylvania was a little stunned. How did they have MJOLNIR armors of their own? This project must be bigger than he thought…

“Go ahead and equip whatever you want from this room. Feel free to specialize it to your strong points. I’ll meet you outside when you're done.” With that being said Toll left the door sliding closed automatically behind him as he stepped out.

Pennsylvania all but dropped his duffle bag once his superior was gone. Looking over his options with all the energy of a kid in a candy store. The SPI armor he was currently equipped with was mass produced garbage meant to enhance the efficiency of the suicide soldier he was originally meant to be.

He looked the suits over before settling on a variation of the scout armor. Scout armor has many advantages for someone like him. The wider angle visor would help with his blind spot... Since he only had one eye, it also had enhanced optics… The type of thing every sniper needs... The suit has an anti-tracking system, shroud-induction and has the ability to mask radioactive emissions making him practically invisible to infrared sensors and reactor pings. While also extending the up time of active camouflage... Too bad he didn’t have an active camo unit… Although maybe he could make the photo-reactive coating from the SPI armor work with the Scout armor. It wouldn’t be a full active camo but enough for sort of a phasing out effect probably…

He shed his old SPI armor for the new Scout setup making sure to scavenge the photo-reactive unit to adapt into this suit later. He equipped the chest plate with an extra combat knife, as you can never have too many knives. Next he needed a gun.… Looking them over his eyes landed on an anti-materiel sniper rifle and she practically sang to him like a siren in those old pirate tales… He took it slinging it over his shoulder and into place over the mag strips on the back of the suit. He would definitely customize his colors later, probably jungle camo as it was his favorite pattern.

Right now though it was just plain OD Green. Stepping out of the room suited up with his new gear he found Toll was waiting for him in the hallway. Toll took a moment to study him again, another appraising look before nodding his head.

“As I expected from your file it seemed you leaned towards stealth/recon missions, the anti-materiel sniper is a nice fit also.” Toll adjusted his glasses before writing something down on the clipboard he was carrying. Odd... Who carries a clipboard around this day and age?

Agent Pennsylvania just nodded in response he wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to act with this man yet…

“Alright then let’s get started shall we? I’ll show you to the training room and we will have a look at what you can do. Set up a baseline of sorts for future tests.” Toll started walking as he talked Pennsylvania following close behind. The man showed him around a bit before heading to the training room he knew where the cafeteria, and their rooms were located. Informing him that he would get his very own room, saying that he could go pick a room once they were done with his testing… Pennsylvania was definitely looking forward to that...

Toll led him to the training room. The room was pretty lackluster. A table was set up with a few different pistols… He hates pistols...Something with them just never clicks quite right in his brain. It made them extremely difficult for him to use with his lack of an eye. If this man had read his files as he said he had, he would know this… Unless this was some sort of test… There were three targets on the other side of the room, half torso types.

“Take out the three targets with what you have at your disposal,” was all Toll said as he leaned against the wall to observe clipboard and pen seemingly at the ready.

Pennsylvania just nodded as he stepped over to the table. Pistols all laid out nice and neat separated from their magazines for safety-sake, probably. Pennsylvania picks one of them up pulling the slide backwards to inspect the chamber… Nothing in it… Good. He releases the slide allowing it to snap back and then he holds the pistol in his open hand gauging its weight getting a feel for its distribution before stepping up to the line like a pitcher stepping up to the plate. He grins to himself under his helmet as he whips the pistol...the whole thing...at one of the targets. The barrel of the pistol embeds itself into whatever the targets are made of, sort of like an axe would, but it’s not an axe.

The target doesn't take the impact gracefully, the head breaking off and tumbling back a little while after. Penn pulls his combat knives from the sheaths on his chest plate, he doesn't need to take a moment to gauge their weight though he knew his knives like they were extensions of himself. The knives left his hands in quick succession flying true and sinking nicely into the other two targets clean up to the hilt.

He straightened up and turned to Toll, who looked less than amused... Pennsylvania almost laughed but he caught it in time and stifled it as Toll spoke, "You were supposed to shoot them..."

"You didn't say I had to shoot them. You said to take them out with what I had at my disposal...And that's what I did..." Pennsylvania replied with only a slight hint of sass.

Toll sighed and started writing something on his clipboard, probably something about being unruly... But what could you expect from someone who was raised by ODST... As Toll was writing, Pennsylvania walked up to the targets to pull his knives out of their faces. Yanking one out before happening to look up and see he had a small audience looking down at him from an observation deck of sorts.

He didn't know that was going to be a thing and was now a little embarrassed by his actions. Although it didn't really look like he needed to be... One of his viewers, a smaller one, had a hand pressed against the glass as if trying to get a better look. The other, a bigger guy probably bigger than even him, but it was hard to tell from here, was looking down at him also... Did this PFL have more Spartans? Would he be able to talk to them? Slightly taken aback by the spectators being right there, Pennsylvania did the only thing he could think of at that moment... He gave a little hand wave as if to say Hi, it was an awkward little thing...

As Pennsylvania waved the smaller one pulled away from the glass almost like they had been burnt. Turning their head towards where Toll was standing still writing away... As if to see if he was looking? Were they not supposed to interact with each other? Strange... Pennsylvania almost missed it...but after seeming to decide the coast was clear the smaller one gave a tiny wave back. The bigger one gave him a simple head nod and after that Pennsylvania turned to pull the second knife from the other target's head.

It seemed this Toll character wasn't to be trusted if that reaction was anything to go by... He had felt it when they first met but having his suspicions confirmed made him feel a bit better about it. He sheathed his knives and made his way back over to Toll somewhat at attention but not fully. He wanted to get these tests over with so he could pick a room, hopefully they had nice closets...

_______________________________

"Vermont! Did you see that guy, the one that just got off the Pelican... He had a fucking robotic arm... Do you think he was a Spartan like you? Is he a new Agent maybe? I wonder what stupid shitty state name they'll give him..." Rhodes practically exploded with excitement as soon as the coast was clear. He could practically feel Vermont roll his eyes as the helmet that covered his face rolled and he heard a small sigh.

"Yes, Rhodes I saw him... He was a bit hard to miss... You don't see people wearing SPI armor often... Nor do you see people almost as big as me..." Vermont chuckled lightly... Rhodes was being gay about the new guy he just knew it... "If he is a new Agent they'll probably have him in the training room soon enough... Want to go see?"

"Fuckin' yeah! Let's go..." Another check of their surroundings and Rhodes had a hold of Vermont's hand all but dragging him down the hall towards the observation deck, Vermont allowed it as a small laugh escaped his lips...Rhodes was so cute...

With Vermont in tow it didn't take long to get where they were going, luckily no one else was on deck so they could be secretly gay together while they watched a few people getting the training room ready for testing. Rhodes somehow managed to weasel his way into Vermont's lap even with both of them standing. Vermont just took the time to hold him. His chin resting on the top of his head as they waited for the new guy to show up.

After a little while the guest of honor soon came walking into the training room slightly behind Toll. Rhodes stood back up and moved towards the window to get a better look, Vermont following suit just after. Vermont noted the Scout armor and sniper rifle on the new guy's back, but he didn't see a side arm, just knives...a bit odd...

The guy picked the pistol up from the table but didn't load it, just checked the action and then to his surprise used it to unconventionally take out the target across the room... Rhodes squeaked the sound involuntarily leaving his throat due to his surprise, his hand pressed against the glass, as he elbowed Vermont in the side.

"Did you fucking see that! That was so cool, holy shit!" Rhodes was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah... I don't think that's how he was supposed to do it..." Vermont paused as the knives flew to the other targets... He was probably going to have to peel Rhodes off the glass here in a second before he went ass over tin cups into the training room... "He's got a good arm, I'll give him that."

The new Agent went up to retrieve his knives pulling one and then seeming to notice them the man's head tilted slightly as he gave a small awkward looking wave, like he had no idea what he was doing. Rhodes stepped back from the glass and checked to see if Toll saw not wanting to bring more attention to themselves as necessary. Toll wasn't looking and Rhodes relaxed a bit before returning the wave albeit cautiously...Vermont just gave a simple nod it was the polite thing to do after all.

"He's adorable, did you see that? He's like a big puppy..." Rhodes awed.

Vermont sighed... Rhodes was gone... Deep in whatever little place his brain went. "Come on, let's go... Before you get us in trouble..." He drug Rhodes back out into the hallway. It was about lunch time anyway. May as well see if there was anything good...probably not but it wouldn't hurt to check. After lunch Rhodes had to go to a briefing with fire team alpha so they had to separate. Rhodes promised to come by Vermont's room later, some quiet "I love yous" passing between them.

Sneaking back to Vermont's room later Rhodes got caught just outside the room as the new guy stepped out of one of the previously empty rooms. Rhodes tried to be as nonchalant as possible about it, after all this guy was new he didn't know who slept where... It was probably fine...

Rhodes' thoughts were interrupted when the new guy spoke. "What’s it called when a Peeping Tom is skilled in his game?" Rhodes' brain stalled, what the fuck was this? Was this because they got caught watching his training tests... How did he even know it was him? His voice didn't sound angry though actually it sounded kind of kidding... Like a joke? There was a pause as Rhodes was sort of frozen unsure what was going on...

"It's called being at... Peak Performance." The other Agent finally broke the strange silence, erupting into a fit of giggles.

Rhodes couldn't help but laugh too, did this guy seriously just use a joke in order to get his attention? He had no business being that fucking cute... Once the agent sobered up a bit he stepped a bit closer and pulled off his helmet revealing a heavily scared face and an adorable lopsided grin...cute...

"Hey, do you know how much a polar bear weighs?" Pennsylvania tried another one... It seemed like the first one broke the little one... He was pretty sure this was the one that waved at him earlier.

"No, I don't..." the little one replied once he had stopped his own laugh.

Pennsylvania grinned again this time holding his hand out for a handshake... The flesh one, he had his helmet tucked against his side with the mechanical one. "I don't know either but it's enough to break the ice... Haha... Name's Agent Pennsylvania... I guess... What's yours?" Pennsylvania chuckled as he introduced himself.

Was that a pickup line? Did this Agent Pennsylvania just use a pickup line on him Oh my G-d! His brain was broken... Cause he answered almost immediately... "Agent Rhode Island... but...most people just call me Rhodes..." Rhodes took Pennsylvania's hand to shake it; he couldn't help the smile on his face as he did so. This guy was dangerous...

"Oh, can we shorten them? Okay... Then I guess I would just be Penn then? Nice to meet you, Rhodes." Penn tilted his head again. Like he had done earlier, in the training room although now Rhodes knew it was because Penn only had one eye but it didn't make it any less adorable.

"Yeah, I guess it would... Hello, Penn..." When Rhodes said his name Penn smiled even wider... Oh shit... This is bad... Fuck...

[lboogie1906]

Alexander Miles (May 18, 1838 – May 7, 1918) Born near Circleville, Ohio to Michael Miles and Mary Pompy, he is an inventor known for patenting his design for improving the automatic opening and closing of elevator doors. The patent was issued on October 11, 1887 (US Patent 371,207).

He moved to Winona, Minnesota in 1870 and met his wife, Candance J. Dunlap. In 1879, he relocated his family to Duluth after the birth of their daughter.

Before moving to Winona, Minnesota, he began exploring his passion for inventing, first by creating hair care products while working as a barber in Wisconsin. He began operating a barbershop in the St. Louis Hotel. By using his earnings to purchase a real estate office, he became the first African-American member of the Duluth Chamber of Commerce. In 1884, he erected a three-story brownstone building in Duluth, transforming the surrounding area into “Miles Block.” began developing his concept to improve the function of the elevator door.

Despite John W. Meaker’s patented invention of the first automatic elevator door system (US Patent 147,853) in 1874, many elevators still required the doors and the shaft to be manually opened and closed. He became concerned with the dangerous risks associated with elevators once he noticed a shaft door left open during a ride with his young daughter. Although Meaker received the patent first, it was his innovation that made electric-powered elevator doors widely accepted around the world. Today, the influence of his patent is present in modern designs for elevator systems in which automatic doors are a standard feature.

He and his family relocated to Chicago, where founded The United Brotherhood, a life insurance company that sold life insurance primarily to African Americans who could not get coverage from white-owned firms. Due to Chicago’s economic challenges at the time, he and his family relocated once again to Seattle. Partly because of the success of his invention, he was known to be the wealthiest African American in the Pacific Northwest region. In 2007, he was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[star--anon]

normally I write sad things but there's enough sad in my life right now so have some Silly Boys Cooking

Thomas helps Frypan cook.

Gally watches them. Once a Builder, always a Builder, and he's constantly just walking about Paradise, scrutinizing each design for a way to improve it. He studies Frypan and Thomas' movements and interactions with each appliance, scribbling down notes like a maniac.

So far, he has:

rounded all corners of the counters and tables created a scrappy but workable induction stove because the fire of gas stoves made Minho uneasy built out an intrusion in the kitchen wall so the fridge slots into them and not jut out like an obstacle somehow managed to make nonstick pans

(that last one is specifically because Frypan once made a few younger kids cry when he violently cussed at the 6th egg to get stuck)

Thomas helps Frypan cook because he needs something to do with his hands, and because Gally and Frypan always hang out while cooking and he wants to be close to them. After the Trials, it's really difficult to ever feel safe. He's convinced that at any moment, he'll walk through a door/tent and find the Rat Man surrounded by the hanging bodies of the Immunes. So he sticks close.

Andif he can make himself useful while keeping his friends in sight? Win-win.

also because cooking is actually really fun and he's only burned himself twice!

on a slightly darker note, it's also a form of control. There are some ups and downs, but with some practice, Thomas can mostly control the outcome of his dishes. Control. It's a word Trial-Thomas would've laughed at. He couldn't even control his own body. But here he is now, making near-perfect omelets.

Frypan gives anyone who helps out with cooking a free pass from doing the dishes. Anyone who litters is automatically assigned dish-cleaning duty. He's very big on littering, and has contributed a lot to the design of trash cans.

He keeps nagging Gally for the secret of that Fire Drink, to which the Builder throws his pencil at him.

Frypan is also the first one to notice Minho's aversion to fire, and he gives lots of advice on how to avoid and treat them. He's got this funky, fish-smelling goop that helps get rid of burn scarring, which Minho uses religiously.

Thomas (who he shares a tent with) has never complained about the smell, although he does mysteriously disappear from the tent for hours every time Minho applies it.

He also has this massive book where he writes down each recipe he comes up with. It's full of little doodles and side notes and new additions in the margins. Brenda comes by at least twice a week to draw little pictures of what the final result should look like.

(Brenda and Frypan have also tried creating dyes and pigments so they can color in the drawings because almost nobody in Paradise understands what "golden brown" means in a cake apparently.)

Minho used to sit on the fridge before Gally made it so that the fridge slotted into the wall Now he sits on the countertop, and Thomas has gotten so used to it that he just puts plates on his lap.

Before, Minho's "job" was to open the fridge door and grab any ingredients Frypan needed. Now, sitting on the countertop, he's Mr. Conversationalist

as much as being together helps, it's also an aching reminder of all the Gladers they lost. Newt, Alby, Zart, Winston...

Thomas can't tell if it's worse to bear the guilt of not even knowing the names of half the Gladers that died, or being close to and grieving over lost friends.

Minho's not one for humor or laughs, but a Leader's gotta Leader, so he's up on the counter cracking joke after joke, tapping on Gally's shoulder then ducking behind a chair, blowing air into Frypan's face when the guy isn't look, using cattails to tickle the back of Thomas' neck...

He'd slip on a banana peel if they had one

Gally's ruined a lot of sketches from laughing and jerking the pencil around

and nobody says it out loud, or at least not to his face, but seeing him slowly become more laid back, regain his sarcastic humor, and get more comfortable around other Immunes was like tonic. Years of being in the Trials did nothing but harden him, turning his sarcasm into cynicism.

He's also slowly stopped flinching each time Frypan fires up the gas stove. He once made himself scrambled eggs on the induction stove. It was the best scrambled eggs he's ever eaten. Garnished with one massive Fuck You to WCKD

[puckhq]

they do say good food is the way to someone's heart || SELF-PARA

featuring: Noah Puckerman and an impressive amount of home cooked food

mentions: Morgan Weston ( @morgan-weston ) & Maya Puckerman

date & time: Friday, November 1, 2024 @ 7:00(ish) pm

location: Puck's house

warnings: none!

summary: Four days after the field's worth of sunflowers showed up, it looks like Morgan has another gesture of love up his sleeve. This time it's Maya who's there to witness it.

word count: 0000

in response to:

"Dad!" the voice of his daughter rang through the whole house before Puck even had a chance to acknowledge the knock he thought he heard on the door. "Someone's at the door, I'm busy!"

There was a 50/50 chance that she really was busy but hey, if she wanted to wait even longer for dinner then fine, he could continue to procrastinate by answering the door. It took him a couple of minutes to actually get to the door and it seemed weird that there hadn't been another knock. He almost didn't bother, but he was expecting a package so just incase it got here early, he opened the door.

For the second time this week he was frozen in place at the sight before him. Which also meant once the shock wore off he knew exactly who had left it there. Sidestepping the table of serving dishes, no doubt filled with food, he knew it was a long shot, but maybe he'd be able to catch whoever delivered it. After looking down the street, subconsciously looking for Morgan's truck, he walked back to his front door where his daughter was lifting the silver lids off of the food.

"First a field's worth of flowers, now a buffet's worth of food? What're you in a rom com? OOO-" she saw the spaghetti and meatballs, her favorite meal, one of the many things Puck passed down to his child. "So are we in the middle of the movie where the grand gestures get rejected or the end where they win you back?" She asked taking the sunflower out of it's vase.

instead of answering her, he started bringing the food in the house. Putting dish after dish on the dining room table. It wasn't like it was working, but these gestures made it really hard not to think about the cowboy, not to call him or text him or show up at his place. But he knew that it wouldn't fix anything. But he did want to see him, which is probably why he hoped he could catch him, if he did personally deliver all of this.

"Dad, you good?" Maya asked putting down the last serving dish of food on the table.

Opening that dish to see another dish of breakfast food, Puck couldn't help but let a little smile slip. "I'm good, kid." He replied automatically.

Puck could feel his daughter's eyes on him, the same way his mother would study him before saying what she needed to say or asking what she wanted to ask. "You were happy with Eva and Morgan, like the kind of happy that me, grandma, uncle jake and even mom make you. We're your people and I think Eva and Morgan got inducted into your little circle. Now you're missing two of us and you're sad because you put pieces of your heart and soul into each one of us, so when we're not around it's like pieces of you are missing."

Now, his kid being smart he knew, didn't get that from him, but apparently she did manage to get his people skills. Although, she's definitely more perceptive of the world around her than he was at her age. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders her pulled her in and brushed back her curls to kiss her forehead. "You're a smart kid, you know that?" It was a rhetorical question, he knew she knew. "I'm working on it." Was all he could offer, biting off a piece of a waffle.

Maya nodded her head in understanding. "I don't know what he did but I do know getting thousands of one flower isn't easy and that cooking this amount of food is an all day thing. Maybe it's not the apology you need but I don't know, at least he's trying. Maybe you can send him a thank you for the flowers and food text." She was pushing it and she knew it, but Puck had no ability to be mad at her about it, so instead he sent her to go set the table, his mom and Jake would probably be back soon and they were definitely gonna have to help eat all this food.

[kitchenappliancesadelaide-posts]

Best Kitchen Appliances for Small Spaces: Maximizing Efficiency

In today's compact living environments, maximizing kitchen space while maintaining functionality and efficiency is essential. Choosing the right kitchen appliances for small spaces can significantly enhance your cooking experience and streamline daily tasks. This guide explores essential appliances designed to fit seamlessly into smaller kitchens, optimizing both space and efficiency.

Compact Refrigerators: Space-Saving Cooling Solutions

Compact refrigerators are ideal for small kitchens, offering essential cooling without occupying excessive space. These appliances typically feature a small footprint while providing adequate storage for fresh produce, beverages, and frozen items. Look for models with adjustable shelves and door bins to customize storage according to your needs.

Efficient Dishwashers: Cleaning Convenience in Limited Space

Compact dishwashers are perfect for smaller kitchens where traditional built-in models might not fit. These appliances offer the convenience of automated dishwashing without compromising on cleaning power. Look for energy-efficient models with multiple wash cycles and adjustable racks to accommodate various dish sizes and shapes.

Versatile Cooktops: Maximizing Cooking Flexibility

Induction cooktops are a popular choice for small kitchens due to their compact size and efficient cooking capabilities. These cooktops use electromagnetic technology to heat cookware directly, offering precise temperature control and rapid heating. Consider models with touch controls and safety features like automatic shut-off for enhanced usability and peace of mind.

Space-Saving Ovens: Compact Baking Solutions

Compact ovens, such as countertop or built-in models, are excellent for small kitchens where space is at a premium. These ovens come in various sizes and configurations, including convection and microwave combinations, offering versatility for baking, roasting, and reheating. Look for models with intuitive controls and easy-to-clean interiors for added convenience.

Microwave Ovens: Quick and Efficient Cooking

Microwave ovens are indispensable in small kitchens for their speed and efficiency in reheating and cooking. Opt for compact models that can be placed on countertops or mounted above cooktops to save valuable counter space. Look for features like sensor cooking and preset programs for hassle-free operation.

Stylish Rangehoods: Enhancing Air Quality and Space Efficiency

Rangehoods are essential for ventilation in small kitchens, effectively removing smoke, odors, and grease while cooking. Choose slimline or under-cabinet models that fit snugly above cooktops without obstructing overhead cabinet space. Look for quiet operation and adjustable fan speeds for optimal performance.

Coffee Machines: Compact Brewing Solutions

Coffee lovers can enjoy their favorite brews in small kitchens with compact coffee machines. Consider single-serve espresso machines or drip coffee makers that fit neatly on countertops or in kitchen nooks. Look for programmable settings and easy maintenance features to streamline your morning routine.

Choosing the Right Kitchen Appliances: Factors to Consider

When selecting kitchen appliances for small spaces, consider the following factors to ensure optimal efficiency and functionality:

Size and Dimensions: Measure your kitchen space carefully to determine the maximum dimensions that appliances can occupy without overcrowding.

Functionality: Prioritize appliances that offer multiple functions or versatile features to maximize utility in limited space.

Energy Efficiency: Opt for appliances with high Energy Star ratings to minimize energy consumption and reduce utility costs.

Ease of Maintenance: Choose appliances with easy-to-clean surfaces and removable parts for hassle-free maintenance.

Conclusion

Finding the best kitchen appliances for small spaces involves strategic planning and consideration of space-saving designs, functionality, and efficiency. Whether you're outfitting a tiny apartment kitchen or a compact urban loft, prioritize appliances that optimize space without compromising on performance. Explore the latest innovations from top kitchen appliance brands to create a functional and stylish culinary space tailored to your needs.

By integrating these compact and efficient appliances into your kitchen design, you can maximize every square inch while enjoying the convenience and comfort of modern cooking technology. Invest in quality appliances that enhance your cooking experience and complement your lifestyle in small spaces.

[amnottrak-official]

Sydney Trains M set

Class of electric train operating in Sydney, Australia

The Sydney Trains M sets, also referred to as the Millennium trains, are a class of electric multiple units that operate on the Sydney Trains network. Built by EDi Rail between 2002 and 2005, the first sets initially entered service under the CityRail brand on 1 July 2002 after short delays due to electrical defects. The M sets were built as "fourth generation" trains for Sydney's suburban rail fleet, replacing the 1960s Tulloch carriages and providing extra capacity on the suburban rail network. The sets currently operate on the T2 Inner West & Leppington, T3 Bankstown, T5 Cumberland, T7 Olympic Park and T8 Airport & South lines.

Quick Facts M set, In service ...

M set

M32 at Sydney Central

Lower deck

In service

2002–present

Manufacturer

EDi Rail

Built at

Cardiff

Replaced

Tulloch carriages

Constructed

2002–2005

Entered service

1 July 2002

Number built

141 carriages

Number in service

140 carriages

Formation

35 4-car sets

Fleet numbers

D1001–D1041, D1043–D1060, D1062–D1073 (driving trailers)

N1501–N1540, N1543–N1560, N1562–N1573 (motor cars)

M1–M35 (full 4-car sets)

Capacity

452

Operators

Sydney Trains

Depots

Auburn

Lines served

Inner West & Leppington

Bankstown

Cumberland

Olympic Park

Airport & South

Specifications

Car body construction

Stainless steel

Train length

81.55 m (267 ft 6+5⁄8 in)

Car length

20,532 mm (67 ft 4+3⁄8 in) (D)

20,243 mm (66 ft 5 in) (N)

Width

3.03 m (9 ft 11+1⁄4 in)

Height

4,381 mm (14 ft 4+1⁄2 in)

Doors

Plug-style, 2 per side

Wheel diameter

940 mm (37 in)

Maximum speed

130 km/h (81 mph) (design)

115 km/h (71 mph) (service)

Weight

207 t (204 long tons; 228 short tons)

Traction system

Alstom ONIX 1500 2-level IGBT–VVVF

Traction motors

8 × Alstom 4-EXA-2144 226 kW (303 hp) 3-phase AC induction motor

Power output

1,808 kW (2,425 hp)

Electric system(s)

1,500 V DC (nominal) from overhead catenary

Current collector(s)

Pantograph

UIC classification

2′2′+Bo′Bo′+Bo′Bo′+2′2′

Braking system(s)

Automatic air, electropneumatic and regenerative

Coupling system

Scharfenberg coupler

Track gauge

1,435 mm (4 ft 8+1⁄2 in) standard gauge

Close

Design

Vestibule

The Millennium train, like the entire Sydney Trains fleet and electric NSW TrainLink fleet, is a double decker. It is a four car consist, with the middle two cars being non-control motor cars and the two outer cars being driving control trailer cars fitted with the pantograph. The Millennium train was the first to be equipped with an AC drive system unlike the Tangara, which has a DC drive system. The sets usually operate in eight-car formations with two four-car sets combined. While the Millennium train concept is an evolution of the Tangara concept (manufactured by A Goninan & Co), the Millennium train introduced new features such as internal electronic destination indicators, automated digital voice announcements for upcoming stops, a return to reversible seating, surveillance cameras, wider stairways, a new safety yellow colour scheme, and push-button opened internal doors. The Millennium Train also introduced crumple zones to absorb impact in a collision. Interiors were designed by Transport Design International.

The train also features emergency help points, allowing passengers to contact the train crew in an emergency. The help points are located on the sides of the stairwell to the upper deck. There are actually two help points in the same location, with a large one at face height with a microphone and speaker, and a lower one with a microphone only. There are also emergency door releases which were retrofitted to the trains. These allow passengers to manually open the doors in an emergency, as recommended in the report for the Waterfall rail accident. The retrofit program was stated as having been completed in November 2014.

Like with the T, A and B sets, the M sets feature Scharfenberg couplers.

M sets are 3.03 metres (9 ft 11+1⁄4 in) wide, being classed by Transport for NSW as medium width trains, which allows them to operate within the whole Sydney Trains suburban network.

Unlike sets M2–M35, set M1 has a slightly different interior design with differently coloured doors and different seat handles for unknown reasons.

Delivery

Stairwell

The cars were constructed by EDi Rail at Cardiff Workshops. The contract included a 15-year maintenance agreement with EDi Rail to maintain the trains at a specialised maintenance centre at Eveleigh. During testing and initial revenue service, they ran as four car sets, with eight car sets commencing service towards the end of 2002 after further testing. All 35 four car sets were delivered by October 2005.

The initial order signed in October 1998 was for 81 carriages, in December 2002 an option was taken up for an additional 60. In February 2017, Sydney Trains exercised an option to extend Downer's maintenance of the trains for a further 10 years.

Criticisms

The Millennium trains were criticised for having several technical problems and causing problems with Sydney Trains, they were referred to in the media reports as The "Mi-lemon" and "Millenni-Bug" as a result. Some of the problems were caused by insufficient power supply on the overhead to cope with the power demands of the more technologically advanced trains causing them to shut down. Software bugs also contributed to the trains' poor reliability.

The Millennium trains were withdrawn from service in April 2003 while the problems were being rectified and a full audit was carried out. They were subsequently reintroduced into service in June 2003 and have since been operating on the T2 Inner West & Leppington, T3 Bankstown, T6 Carlingford, T7 Olympic Park and T8 Airport & South lines. After the new timetable was released on 26 November 2017, M sets began as 4-car services on the T5 Cumberland line on both weekdays & weekends, along with a few 8-car Waratahs.

In service

External Carriage Camera Trial

Trial cameras

In late 2008, two Millennium trains were fitted with external cameras atop of carriages near the doors, testing their use for the then-future Waratah trains. These cameras were subsequently incorporated into the final design of the Waratah train.

Lines serviced

The Millennium trains typically operate on the following lines (normally described as Sector 2):

T2 Inner West & Leppington Line: Leppington or Parramatta to City Circle via Granville

T3 Bankstown Line: Liverpool or Lidcombe to City Circle via Bankstown

T5 Cumberland Line: Leppington to Richmond

T7 Olympic Park Line: Shuttle from Lidcombe to Olympic Park on weekdays

T8 Airport & South Line: Macarthur to City Circle via Airport or Sydenham

Maintenance Depots

The trains were originally maintained at Eveleigh Maintenance Centre.

As with all other trains, these trains are not exclusively kept in Auburn overnight. They only need to return to the depot for maintenance, and at other times, they may be stabled at various yards on the lines that they operate, such as Liverpool and Leppington yards -Anastasia the train girl

I won’t be able to post as much cause mental issues plus I just came out to a friend as trans so I have to deal with that to

sorry for taking so long to respond! I've been busy lately.

9/10 good train (minus the bugs)

(also i hope all goes well for you! I enjoy your train asks, but don't feel bad if you don't want to send them as often.)

[teslainnovation]

THE FUTURE OF KITCHEN APPLIANCES DUBAI PRECEDES

THE FUTURE OF KITCHEN APPLIANCES DUBAI PRECEDES

Manually handling an entire kitchen is not what you need for your 2024. Electronic home appliances have been around since the 20th century, being stuck washing dishes or cleaning bigger appliances with no versatile options, after so many decades, is just outdated.

So here’s what you need to learn about the future of kitchen appliances Dubai has to offer.

Freestanding Cookers

Traditional dishes sometimes need traditional gas cookers but if you want to save energy, space and time Tesla Freestanding cookers are a must-try! 

They consist of a smooth surfaced black enamelled cavity which is easy-to-clean. Glass panel over at the bottom with removable door plate, minimum energy consumption with Tesla’s Energy Class ovens. 

Fast cooking and auto-cut off to ensure your safety, with turbo grill oven and simple ignition.

Induction Cookers

Tesla Induction cookers feature touch sensors for everyday convenience while cooking.

Bringing safety and sophisticated dark design together with Black Crystal glass and safety features such as auto shut-down after a minute and overheating protection system.

Efficient cooking with 8 different power levels easily adjustable for all kinds of cooking needs.

Citrus Juicers

Health comes first, and nothing is healthier than a fresh glass of homemade juice. Here’s a juicer that makes it easy, fast and convenient to make your own vitamin drinks.

Featuring dust protection, just plug in and choose your citrus fruit, and two-direction twist is automatically activated once pressure is applied, no need for buttons.

Make your immune system stronger with various sizes of drinks, two different sized cones to squeeze all kinds of citruses. 

Electric Kettles

Tesla kettles with a capacity of 1.7 L make warm drinks, boiling water for tea, instant coffee or other beverages fast, safe, energy saving and clean. 

With 2200W of power with easy-to-open and handle devices that helps keep track of the water quantity is super simple yet highly useful.

Auto Cut-off when the temperature reaches 100 °C, with Strix kettle control manufactured to exceed 12.000 cycles of normal operation as well as comply with all international standards.

Air Fryers

The air fryer uses 360° hot air circulation to cook healthier fried food as compared to the alternative of conventional frying. Easy to control temperature levels (60 – 200°C) and cooking time with 12 preset programs, or customization.

It is fast, with crispy and delicious results, and can manage a good quantity at once due to the large basket, enough food for a whole family. And the basket and baking tray are dishwasher-safe.

Automatic turn off, preheat, periodic notification for food “turn-over”, easy to clean, with non-stick coating and other quality of life features. It has overheating protection, and will also automatically shut down if the pot is removed.

And now you know how to remodel your kitchen with one of the most innovative and trendy kitchen appliances Dubai offers and never stress over time management or physical labour with Tesla electronic home appliances.

[acorpsecalledcorva]

hi! we've seen your post about mediums/possessions in other cultures and relation to plurality - we'd like to ask, do you know anything (or can you conduct to some resources about) experiences of channeling a spirit/superior being?

I know it's way too generalised like that... what we do experience is a partly voluntary-partly involuntary experience of partial possession by a spirit or deity. think like co-consciousness and intrusions of actions/thoughts, but instead of being "regular" co-consciousness within our system, is separate from us

sorry if it's too elaborate!

It's certainly a tricky one. I mentioned in the last post a case of possession consistent with DID, there's another example about a century later of a nun who believed she was possessed by Angels, but DID isn't the only mental health condition that would have been misinterpreted as a possession, schizophrenia, BPD, bipolar, tourettes, autism, heck pretty much anything could have been taken to be the work of the devil, in some cultures depression is viewed as being caused by bad spirits. To that end, modern practices pretty much all stipulate that mental health must be ruled out or advise that someone shouldn't become a medium if they experience mental health issues. This is less common unfortunately in the more eclectic non organised practices of the online witchy community.

It is something that the community has endless debates on though! There are a lot of witches who talk about having made contact and establishing a regular dialogue with deities, occasionally going so far as to date them. This is met with quite strong skepticism, usually along the lines of "why the fuck would the Egyptian deity Osiris take time out of his busy day to hang out with a 17 year old Walgreens clerk from a small town in Arizona?" but that also kinda depends on the spirit or deity. In Umbande, communication with a group of spirits colloquially called Pomba Gira is an encouraged and open practice.

Now for my own experiences and perspective, which may or may not be relevant as I don't know know anything about you, I started my practice shortly after system discovery. I had alters who were really interested in it but the host at the time was very against it. Since then, things have gotten weird. I haven't had any experiences as you've described, but I've seen things. Visions of a god chained up in a far away world, visitors in my bedroom at night, creatures that climb up the sides of houses while I walk around during the day. Many of these experiences have been quite distressing, and as such it's very important to me that I understand that these things aren't really there, they're just hallucinations. I've seen what happens when a practitioner becomes overwhelmed by psychotic symptoms entrenched in their spiritual beliefs and it's not pretty.

That being said, in other ways my being a system has been incredibly beneficial to my practice. So many exercises and techniques that are used to reach an altered state of consciousness is stuff that my brain does automatically and easily. When I've engaged in trance induction rituals slipping into the trance is as simple as taking a step through an open door. My ability to close off my perception of the outside world and look inwards is so beneficial both in meditation and parts work. Someone once gave me advice on how to alleviate chronic pain and it was something I had been doing since I was 10 years old. And so if I wanna get really Woowoo with it my assumption would be communication with and possession by spirits requires dissociation. To be able to turn off the parts of our brain that connect to this plane of existence and become open to others.

So to sum up, I would advise a healthy level of caution and exploration into any mental health stuff you might have going on, be truthful with yourself about whether this experience is beneficial to you or harmful in some way, if you know who the spirit or deity is and it's a known and established being then it's worth exploring precedent, but if it's all good then it's all good, right?

[jackdiyproject]

EXPLORING THE 5 COOL PARTNER SELLER ELECTRONICS PRODUCTS-Part1

Exploring the 5 Cool Partner Seller Electronics Products

Prologue

Are you an electronics enthusiast looking to expand your electronics project repertoire? Want to take your skills to the next level by exploring new and exciting products? Look no further than our list of five cool electronics products from partner sellers!

Whether you’re interested in building your own smart home devices, experimenting with sensors, or creating your own robot, these products are sure to inspire you. They cover a lot of application areas, from loop detectors used to monitor vehicle count in parking garages to Arduino CNC shields used in CNC machines, from simple pulse sensors used to detect cardiovascular pulse signals from fingertip to RGB LED panel light used in smart home, these products are unique, compact, and functional. Not only are these products fun to build and use but they’re also designed to help you learn new skills and techniques along the way.

What’s more, these products all come from trusted partner sellers who are committed to developing high-quality products. They’re happy to provide technical support for customers who have questions, so you can be sure you’re getting the best in electronics.

So get ready to dive into the world of electronics and explore these five cool partner seller products. You’re sure to find something that piques your interest and takes your own electronics projects to the next level.

Inductive Loop Vehicle Detector by Elektronika-ba

Whether you need to monitor occupancy and count vehicles in parking garages, control vehicle access at door and barrier controls, or facilitate traffic light installations and traffic controllers, the inductive loop detector is the perfect solution. It can even detect the direction and speed of vehicle traffic, making it an invaluable tool for a variety of traffic-related applications. In addition, this device can function as a stand-alone speed trap and can be easily interfaced with Arduino.

We can also provide a pre-programmed PIC chip to meet your project requirements.

Specifications

Number of operating modes: 4

Tuning: Automatic

Detection type: Presence/Pulse

Presence time: Adjustable in 3 steps

Pulse duration: 250 ms / 500 ms

Signal filtering: Adjustable in 2 steps (NORMAL, HIGH)

Loop inductance: 20 uH — 1000 uH

Frequency range: 20 kHz — 145 kHz

Frequency selection: 2 combinations (LOW, HIGH)

Sensitivity: Maximum 0.0025% Δf/f, adjustable in 8 steps

Detection speed: 10 ms by default, adjustable

Start-up time: ~ 1 second per channel (or longer if the frequency is not stable)

Temperature range: -35°C — 120°C

Sensor protection: Galvanic isolation + gas discharge tube for lightning protection

Don’t settle for less — click here to learn more about the Inductive Loop Vehicle Detector and experience the compact, yet cool detector!

Arduino CNC Shield V3.51 by Protoneer

Designed by Protoneer, this kit is packed with features to ensure high precision control of your stepper motors, you can use it to easily build small CNC routers, DIY laser cutters, 3D printers, or any project that requires precise stepper motor control.

Our latest version 3.51 includes several enhancements to make assembly and installation even easier. We’ve added end-stop and probe signal filtering circuitry to eliminate false triggers and allow the use of unshielded cables for end-stops and probes. We’ve also increased the size of the solder pads for easier assembly and updated the probe pin labels to make installation a breeze.

With the Arduino CNC Shield Kit, you’ll have everything you need to build your own CNC router or mill with ease.

Features

Includes Noise Filers on all end stops and the probing pin. (New in V3.51)

GRBL 0.9 compatible. (Open source firmware that runs on an Arduino UNO that turns G-code commands into stepper signals https://github.com/grbl/grbl)

4-Axis support (X, Y, Z, A-Can duplicate X, Y, Z or do a full 4th axis with custom firmware using pins A4 and A3)

2 x End stops for each axis (6 in total)

Coolant enable

Uses removable Pololu A4988 compatible stepper drivers. (A4988, DRV8825 and others)(Not Included)

Jumpers to set the Micro-Stepping for the stepper drivers. (Some drivers like the DRV8825 can do up to 1/32 micro-stepping )

Compact design.

Stepper Motors can be connected with 4-pin molex connectors or soldered in place.

Runs on 12–36V DC. (At the moment only the Pololu DRV8825 drivers can handle up to 36V so please consider the operation voltage when powering the board.)

Don’t wait — click here to see more about the Arduino CNC Shield V3.51 and start your next project today!

Easy Pulse Mikro by Embedded Lab

What’s more, the Easy Pulse Mikro is designed in the convenient Mikro bus form factor, making it easy to integrate with a wide range of mikroElektronika’s development boards. With all necessary instrumentation and amplification built right in, this powerful sensor provides a clean and precise analog PPG waveform output that’s routed to the AN pin of the mikroBus connector.

Whether you’re a hobbyist, student, or professional developer, the Easy Pulse mikro is the perfect tool for monitoring heart rate and other vital signs.

Click here to see more about the Easy Pulse mikro.

Features

Compatible with mikroBus socket.

Filtered and amplified analog PPG signal output

On-board potentiometer for adjusting amplifier gain, if needed (rotate clock-wise for increasing gain)

Onboard LED for indicating heartbeat. It flashes synchronously with the heartbeat on detecting the pulse from the fingertip.

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] From the brand 5M/10M Extension Cord-Grey 5M/10M Extension Cord-Black Power Strip with USB Ports Power Strip with USB Ports Multi-purpose Extension Board 【5M Heavy-duty Power Cord】-- Hoteon 5 meters extension cord has a more adequate extension range and more easier access to a power outlet in long distance. Perfect for your washing machine, vacuum cleaner and other household electronics that need 5m extension board. 【2500w Extension Cord】-- Male to female expandable electric extension wire with a sturdy long-lasting construction. 5 meters in length, two universal outlet extension cord allows you connect two devices at the same time. Power rate:10 amps, 2500 watts, 100-250 volts. 【2 Universal Sockets】-- Universal Compatibility with most common household appliances and office appliance and any other device that requires expandable electric extension. Ideal for microwave oven, refrigerator, induction cooker. NOTE: This plug is only suitable for 10A devices or below 10A, it CANNOT be used for 16A devices. Please confirm the Amps of your device before purchasing. 【Multi Safety Protection】-- This power strip has overload protection. It will automatically cut power to protect connected devices when voltage surge is overwhelming, protects your electrical appliances. Made of fireproof shell, which can resist temperature up to 750 degrees. Built-in child security door in this 5 meter extension board, protect from electric shock. 【Durable Wire & Close Connection】--Made of soft and elastic material, which protects the universal extension power from accidently bending or breaking. Firm connection with the device interface, without fear of shaking and dropping when you extend cord. [ad_2]

[jashasedai]

The Board

Flavien Rene’s secret residence- November 19, 2016

At the bottom of the courtyard, the group of guests shuffled out of the horse stalls they’d been provided accommodations in. Eight armed guards in body armor carrying automatic weapons guided them across the manicured lawn, and lined them up at the foot of the 6 steps that lead to the stone terrace.

Christian Horner tried to watch, while still keeping his eyes down. There were a few dozen guests standing barefoot on the frozen grass. They looked like they’d been pulled from their beds, with the exception of Aoyagi Nori , Hashiguchi Hibiki, Jinno Shichirou, Naoki Goto, and Hasegawa Kenosuke. The woman and four men who were heads of the Japanese Racing Driver programs looked fresh and ready for business. Of course, they had been in the middle of their mornings, when they’d been summoned.

The members of the FIA board of governors were two women and eight men standing on the terrace. They looked ready for an autumn picnic.

He wondered where the other four members of the board were.

And the members of the cabinet who weren’t standing bleary eyed on the lawn, and the heads of the Agencies.

But this wasn’t a formal meeting.

This wasn’t about discussions of rule changes for sporting events.

The FIA controlled the entire world of automotives. Not just racing.

5 members of the board represented racing, 5 represented automotive manufacture and use, and three oversaw the board itself.

The last seat on the board was an interesting one.

Held by the owner of Ferrari. For no other reason than it was the oldest extant stable.

Luca Montezemolo was leaning against the balustrade of the chateau’s terrace.

4 of the 5 sporting representatives were not.

Christian’s eyes went to the board’s attendants.

The 10 of them were ranged along the edge of the terrace closest to the doors to the mansion. Only Luca’s, and the remaining sporting representative’s resembled the men in any way. Luca’s was 40 or so years younger. Obviously a replacement. It was far from the youngest.

Two of the men had been inducted into the FIA in the last 10 years, as members of their government’s ministers of transportation. The men were one grey haired, one bald.

The Racing Drivers behind those two were in their early twenties.

If any of them could be called Racing Drivers.

They stood at military attention, and they were closed faced and utterly still. In all the times Christian had ever seen the beasts, they had never exhibited any of the behaviors he associated with Racing Drivers.

The only one who seemed anything other than numbly alert was the FIA president, Flavian Rene’s. It stalked back and forth between the two on either side, staring at the men and women below the terrace, with a drawn snarl on its face.

Flavien stepped forward. He had an espresso cup in one hand and a plate with a croissant in the other, like the stable heads had approached him during a comfortable outdoor breakfast. He looked pleased to see them, and well-disposed to their plight.

The wind blew and made Christian’s skin shudder.

“L'été!” Flavien snarled over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the stable heads, and returning to his composed expression like water settling. He smiled lightly. “Stop that pacing.”

The creature stopped midstep. Its face spoke then, in expressions Christian, and every other stable head could read. [I do not want to. I hate you.] It settled in the same position as its fellows. [You will regret turning your back on me,] Its face burned with rage, its glare now directed at the back of Flavien’s neck.

Flavien half turned, raising an eyebrow. He set the cup on the plate and stroked a holstered taser he wore in a chest holster.

[I will bide my time,] L'été promised.

Flavien turned his attention back to his guests, and behind him, the beast’s eye twitched. “I am having a trying morning,” He said. “To my utter embarrassment, I was awoken in the middle of the night and shown the most shocking exposé, produced and broadcast by a group of clowns, and as sure I was that this would be clear to the public as a joke, I find that not only has this been reflected in the stock market this morning…” He set the plate and cup down on the marble balustrade. “All my damned stables are EMPTY.”

The stable heads all took a step back.

“EMPTY.” Flavien shrieked.

The other board members looked at each other with wide eyes.

“NOT all,” Came a woman’s voice from the crowd.

A brunette with her hair pulled back behind her ears pushed to the front of the crowd. Though she was wearing pajamas, and must have been removed from her bed, as Christian had, a few hours after midnight in the UK, she looked like she had spent the morning straightening herself to face the day.

“What have you DONE, Flavien. What have you done to our herd?”

Flavien looked down at the balstraude where his hand rested. “Claire...Miss Williams. Your family’s...herd...has been the source of a lot of trouble for the FIA, and for me, personally.”

“You killed them. MY family’s Racing Drivers. The bloodline my family has spent generations building.”

As he hadn’t for decades, since the day their friendship had separated, Christian turned, fearful, to Helmut, wanting some indication of what to do.

Helmut was watching Flavien. He shook his head, without apparently noticing Christian’s confusion. Then raised a hand, just a little.

Christian subsided.

“Your herd was the source of this infection,” Flavien said. “So I had them put down.”

Christian took a step back. Most of the stable heads did. A step away from Claire Williams.

Her face transformed from incredulous to pleased. “You know about Star.” A proud smile warmed her features. “And Minabird. And Rowan.”

He raised his eyebrows and waved, “It seems I do.”

Claire’s smile continued to expand. “You cost my mother’s Racing Driver her life. And her mother’s Racing Driver. You killed my mare. But the mares have been planning, and a man like you could never understand the power motherhood gives to someone whose strength lies in their accomplishments. Do you have any idea what kind of influence a mare has when she has the honor of raising generations of champions? All their strength reflects back on her.”

L'été’s eyebrows rose. [I am afraid,] His face said.

Flavien whirled on the stallion. “Coward!” He slapped a hand onto his chest, where an electric remote with a single button hung from his neck on a leather cord.

The stallion’s hands shot towards the collar around his own neck. Not fast enough.

The shock collar dropped the Racing Driver to his knees, where he arched, gurgling against the current arcing through him. His teeth made a grounding like a bald wheel cutting asphalt.

A damp stain ran down the leg of his blue trousers.

The shock ended and he collapsed onto his elbows.

His rasping breaths were the only sound for a moment.

Then he vomited.

It was a small amount of bright yellow fluid. He fell forward into it.

For a moment Christian thought he’d been killed.

Then he heard the quiet noise of crying, like a little boy, trying to hide the sound from a vengeful parent.

The other Racing Drivers were looking, now. Two or three of them were staring at L'été, lying on the cold stone of the terrace, but the others were either keeping their eyes ahead, or had turned their eyes up to the sky. One had closed her eyes and had her hands in front of her face, gesturing tiny petitions for the birds to come and take her away.

Flavien’s eyes raked over the line of Racing Drivers, their sudden liveliness in the face of his stallion’s incapacitation. He whirled back to the other members of the board. “Manage your beasts!” He screamed at them.

The board members reacted with fright and the Racing Drivers all returned to stillness, except for the mare begging for death. The woman standing closest to her waved her hand. [Shut up, Pippi! Shut up!]

The mare, who did, indeed, have carrot red hair, froze and then very slowly dropped her hands. She did not open her eyes, and her face stayed twisted into a rictus of horror.

Flavien glared at the woman, who quailed under the heat of his anger.

“It doesn’t matter!” Claire called. She started up the steps. One of the armed men moved forward, herding her back. The presence of the gun caused the rest of the stable heads to retreat even farther away from her.

“You lost,” She continued. “The herds are free. The world knows. You will never be able to get them back. You will never have a monopoly on their talents again. Your monster can’t drive ALL of them into mindless obedience. I notice,” She waved at the terrace, “The matches aren’t here. Except your pets.” She waved at the stable heads, who all looked away from her, “And those of us who are too far under your thumb to have a chance to run.”

There was another moment of silence, in which L'été’s weeping could be heard.

“And I notice that we seem to be missing our representatives from motorcycling,” She said.

Flavien’s face darkened at this, then a smile smoothed his face. “I have taken care of that. I’ve already sent one of our loyalists into the heart of the WMC. Specially trained to avoid detection. In a few days I expect to be hearing about Ricky Carmichael’s tragic death, at the hands of one of his own Riders, and Rossi is a useless facade. Without Carmichael’s stallion opposing me,” A different sort of rage twisted his face, and from the ground, behind him, L'été’s cries turned to hateful laughter, “Rossi and Pastrana are worthless without that…” He turned around and waved his hand over the shock collar’s remote. “Do you want another?”

L'été’s laughter rose, but he closed his eyes and shook his head, like he was denying the laughter. He gasped a few more times. Laughter or sobs, Christian couldn’t tell.

Then he was still, except his fingers tracing through the bright yellow bile.

Flavien turned around. “All these interruptions. A lady is speaking.” He gestured to Claire, who had trailed off in the face of Flavien’s rant about the Riders.

She stepped back, then rallied. “You lost the moment you let your greed blind you to the stupidity of letting those black market warehouses putrefy the trade. As soon as you stopped screening every match, it was inevitable that men like Clarkson would start accessing our secrets. And now it is over. My family’s herd is dead, and all of FIA will follow. It is over.” She turned and waved. “We are over.”

Flavien shook his head. “This isn’t funny anymore. Get them out of here,” He pointed to the guards. They crowded around the stable heads and herded them back towards the horse stables.

“For once in your damn life, listen to me,” Helmut grabbed Christian’s arm, fingertips pinching into the muscle, when Christian turned around to catch one last glimpse of where L'été lay at Flavien’s feet. “And keep your head down.”

--

“Go back to your rooms,” Flavien said to the remaining board members. Each of them and their Racing Driver was escorted towards the house by another of the armed guards.

Flavien stood over his stallion, casting his shadow across L'été’s face. “Why?”

The stallion turned his head just far enough that he could look up at his match out of the corner of his eye. “You ask me why?” His French was almost indistinguishable as words, but Flavien could even understand the beast’s hand signals.

“I have been good to you. Why must you ALWAYS make my life so difficult?”

L'été’s face reflected his rage and disgust. “Do you know that my life is difficult?” He asked, as if the question was mere curiosity. “If my legs would work, I would stand and kill you.”

“You are ungrateful. You have a beautiful place to live,” He gestured to the house. “You are more powerful than any champion, because you belong to me, and because of what I have had done to your mind.”

He reached out and took the cup of espresso. He poured it carefully over L'été’s face.

The stallion closed his eyes and cringed.

The coffee had grown cool. Too cool to burn.

The stallion’s hand was gesturing. [I want to go home, please take me home.]

Flavien noticed and stamped his boot heel on L'été’s fingers.

A stretch of agony crossed the prone stallion’s face and he struggled to pull his fingers free. When Flavien released him, he clutched them to his belly.

He opened his eyes and glared at Flavien. [I HATE you. I hate this place.]

His teeth ground and then he spat, in his disgusting garbled growl, “For the first 6 years of my life I was allowed to believe I was human, and then you came and took me from my family, took my dignity and made me an animal in your stable. Ripped the connections open in my mind and made me control them for you. The ones like me. Because you cannot make an ally you can trust.”

“This is BETTER than your life in Belgrade!” Flavien screamed.

“What does it matter?” L'été whispered. “It is over, now. There is no benefit to Racing Drivers for you.” He struggled to rise and managed to push himself to the length of his arms, but no further. He eased himself back onto his elbows. He looked up. “I have been obedient. I have never asked for anything. Please, just…” His eyes scanned Flavien’s, and he saw the futility of asking for mercy.

Flavien’s hand was toying with the control of his shock collar.

L'été scoffed and laid his head on the ground.

Through the wooden slats, in the next stall, Christian heard Price start to whimper, and in the stall beyond, Toto’s stallion, Wolf and then the rest of the stable heads’ Racing Drivers reacted to Flavien’s stallion’s dying squeals.

Christian ignored the sounds, and the panic of the Racing Drivers around him, and worked the lower edge of the slat back and forth, pulling the nail a little farther out of the wall each time.

He hadn’t spent 23 years as a stable manager preventing the most creative forms of Racing Drivers escapes without learning some things, and he hadn’t taught Xerxes to pick locks by luck.

He had time.

These people knew nothing about Racing Drivers.

—

[Why do you keep doing that? I have told you before, they are just filthy flying rats. They have brains the size of peas.] Having this animal living with her constantly wore on Madam Picler’s nerves.

Arriving at FIA’s first general meeting as Austria’s head of automotive technology and discovering she and the other three inductees were going to be required to have these bodyguards wherever they went. These animals that posed as humans and watched their every action for FIA. That she, too, was now tied irrevocably to FIA.

A nightmare.

Usually, at these meetings Pippi, named after a dearly remembered childhood heroine, was agitated and made concentration difficult until the president’s beast put its calming influence over the others.

Pippi’s habit of venerating birds, even pigeons, like they were holy relics, disgusted Madam Picler.

The mare was cowered in the corner of the room, whispering to herself again.

[If a bird came in here, I would stomp it to death!] Madam told her. She pictured it very clearly, and fat tears rolled from Pippi’s eyes.

She certainly didn’t live up to the brave, lively attitude of the storybook character she’d been named for.

“Ich heiße Sara,” Pippi whispered. “Sara Schmitz.”

“MY name is Sara,” Madam yelled. “You are an animal.”

This is what she had to deal with. Away from here, Pippi was obedient in public, utterly silent, no longer complaining about the black suit she was required to wear in her guise as Madam’s bodyguard. The beast insisted she should be allowed to wear red. As if that wouldn’t clash with her horrible hair.

Here, in the presence of other Racing Drivers, the normally biddable creatures became uncontrollable, gabbing and touching each other, rubbing up against each other like cats in heat. Madam understood that animals had needs. Didn’t she have one of her real bodyguards service Pippi twice a year? Of course the times she’d kindled, the foals had to be sent to one of Flavien’s stables.

The unnatural mare treated the regular servicing as horrific, but rubbed her face against that Qatari prince’s stallion like he was coated in chocolate. She rubbed against all of them.

She even rubbed against the other mare.

They were all unmanageable in each other’s company, until Flavien’s beast put them under control.

And Flavien, quite inexplicably, had employed the shock collar on his on the terrace this morning.

Madam had used the shock collar on Pippi once, but it had rendered her utterly immobile for the next two days, and of course they wet themselves, which stank. Standing calmly with the reek of that stallion’s urine hanging in the air had been a difficult display to maintain.

And when they’d left…

Madam hadn’t looked out the window. The noises had been quite enough to deter her interest.

Pippi had watched though, and through Pippi’s eyes, Madam had seen…

Flavien pour his coffee over the creature, crush it’s hand under his boot heel.

Then kick it across the terrace. He’d knelt beside it and whispered something in its ear.

Pippi urged it to run.

He’ll let you live if you can get away.

L'été had risen to his feet, hunched over, but pouring all his magnificent strength into the effort.

He took three stumbling steps before the shock collar brought him down again.

‘Get up, L'été. Run,’ Pippi thought.

He staggered to his feet again, just in time to be brought down. He lay panting and nothing happened for a long time.

He started to drag himself toward the gate on the far expanse of the lawn on his belly. He gained speed and coordination as he went.

Then his body spasmed with electrical current again.

He lay still for only a moment this time before Flavien stalked across the lawn, the mere handful of steps L'été had managed to escape, and screamed at him that he couldn’t do anything right.

Pippi’s imagination supplied the sensation of the large sharp stones that made up the path, when Flavien hauled L'été by both arms, intentionally into the path, and dragged him the 100 meters until they were a two body lengths inside the gate.

Then Flavien stood back and gestured that L'été should take his freedom.

The strength taken to rise to his feet again must have been tremendous. The urge to live in the strong body. The will to keep fighting.

Flavien walked around behind L'été, and pulled the taser out of his holster.

L'été cleared the gate from a standing start, running with the power of an actual stallion.

Pippi and Madam were too far away to hear the noise. The gate was all the way over in the side of the old horse stable, but Pippi saw L'été’s arms fling out to the sides as he crossed out into his freedom.

And then saw him fling forward and fall. Empty before his body hit the ground.

After that, Pippi had retreated to the corner and began to petition the pigeons to come and take her away.

Madam snorted in disgust and turned away to the silver framed mirror of the guest suite’s vanity. It was a ridiculous display, Flavien dominating his creature like that. Playing cat and mouse with it. It was a weak affectation. It made him look pathetic, not powerful.

True power was in your target not knowing they were ever being controlled.

Like Madam controlled Flavien.

Pippi moaned.

Madam turned around.

Pippi was staring into space, like she did when Flavien’s stallion’s calmed her. She walked past Madam and went to the trundle bed in the corner. The idea that one of Madam’s bodyguards sleep in a cabinet in her bedroom was ridiculous, so at home, Pippi slept in a child sized bed in what had originally been intended as a nursery. Here, there was only one room for them, so she slept in the corner. The creatures were all so ridiculously small they were barely more than child sized, anyway.

Pippi climbed onto the bed, curled up in her usual position, with her face tucked against her knees and her arms around her shins, and her mind fell into what Madam recognized as sleep.

Strange, but Madam brushed it off as nothing. Pippi often engaged in odd behaviors when she was within range of the other board members’ beasts.

—

In the corner of the horse smelling box he had claimed for himself, Price ran a hand over his eyes. Wolf and Gazelle were in the next stall, lying crouched like two dogs at bay, comforting each other with nuzzles and frightened reassurances. Le Mans was still unconscious, the Volkswagen group’s lead stallion was the only one of the agency stallions too strong with wins for L'été to control directly.

That had been an interesting development.

Of course he’d cracked at the end. Racing Drivers raised even a small time as humans never adapted to life as they were meant to live. Not the imprisonment, but the reliance on their minds and bodies, instead the external knowledge humans seemed to make due with. That was why Price had made sure Sebastian was left with Norbert and Heike. He would only thrive in the environment he was tuned to.

And he had thrived. Beautiful child.

Price recalled himself from his loving remembrance, to the task at hand. Falcon, Pippi, and the other politicians’ governors had been easy to subdue, they fell asleep at the merest suggestion that they should rest while the more capable Racing Drivers planned for them. He had struggled a bit with the media man’s. Liberty had some strange ideas, and it was this odd configuration that had tired Price.

Now there was Leggera, who Price knew as a secret ally of the resistance, and Scarlet.

Scarlet rumbled at Price over the distance.

He was going to be difficult to subdue.

Price had always felt baffled by track experts.

‘He killed his own stallion,’ Scarlet said. ‘We are not protecting them anymore, we are a flag drawing the world’s attention.’

Price cursed Scarlet’s predecessor for dying when he had, and leaving Ferrari in the hands of a colt who was only learning to steer Luca Di Montezemolo’s keen mind. A kart rookie trying to manage a premiere clas mind was a liability to the Racing Drivers of FIA’s leadership, right now.

‘Are you afraid of Luca?’ He asked Scarlet. The Ferrari stallions were always named Scarlet. ‘Do you think he will herd you across the grounds with his taser and put you down in the gate?’

The shiver of silence answered Price very clearly that, yes, Scarlet was very afraid of his man taking advantage of his dependence and betraying him.

‘You have not been conditioning him like you ought to have been,’ Price scolded.

‘It is easy for you to correct MY lines,’ Scarlet shot back, ‘Your human is an imbecile!’

Price cut the hot flare of rage at its source. Opponents often wanted to use Helmut’s gentle, placid, mental state as a draft to gain an advantage on Price.

He loved his match, even if the same depths of emotion and reason were not available to him as seemed to be for some men. He was helpful and loving, and his inattention gave Price the quiet he needed to work.

‘I understand that you are just beyond matchable age, and that Luca has had two stallions before you to contend with. I appreciate that you are in a difficult position. We need to work together, in order to create the best outcome from this situation,’ Price told him.

‘How will sleeping help that? I need to plan!’

‘Humans forget the things they cannot see. If you are resting in your cupboard, Luca will forget that you are a factor. More importantly, Flavien will forget you are a factor. If any of the governor Racing Drivers are awake and about with their humans, he will be reminded, and you must sleep- Luca will not allow you to stay in his rooms by yourself.’

‘The stable leaders will inform you of the progress of the plan when you wake up,’ Leggera urged. ‘I am going to sleep, as well. Price and the other herd leaders will plan, while we do the more important job of distracting Flavien.’ Leggera had a deep, rumbling voice, even in sending, and it was easy to believe.

Scarlet was used to the old Trainer’s presence and advice, and took it more easily than he would the Redbull Trainer. ‘I just wish Jaamies were here, why isn’t Jaamies here?’ His mind relaxed to let Price in. ‘I want Kimi to protect me,’ He thought, as he drifted to his cupboard, and Price clicked the switch in his mind to make him rest.

Price watched while Leggera put himself to sleep.

‘There, now that the sycophants are out of the way,’ Wolf stood and stretched in the next stall, huge and imposing, and a vicious competitor, ‘Will we break out of these little boxes and hunt them? I would like to eat Falcon’s man’s face. He is a rude, bad man.’

‘You are a disgusting beast,’ Gazelle teased her mate, ‘Don’t confirm their impression of us.’

There was a mental chuckle from Fifty, Ford’s head stallion.

‘Should we wait for Le Mans to wake up?’ Renault’s Cooper asked.

‘He will boost our range considerably,’ Wolf pointed out. ‘Toto says the sending is increased by a factor of 5 for every championship.’

Math was rarely an easy subject for any Racing Driver, but Lentaa had insisted they learn it. That all the stable heads learn to calculate.

Nine championships would cover the entire surface of land in the world, channeled properly.

‘But who will call?’ Gazelle asked. ‘L'été was the FIA stable’s lead stallion. To send across a distance someone must have a connection with the herd.’

‘Who knows the FIA herd the best?’ Asked Le Mans, coming slowly into the mental circle.

‘I do,’ L'été answered, from where Price had collected him out of his dying body, to shelter in Price’s own mind.

--

The Racing Drivers were hiding something.

They were quiet during the day, sitting for long hours, with none of the pacing, nervous behaviors, or dedicated working out Christian had come to associate with Racing Drivers during enforced inertia. He was certain they were afraid. They had all seen daily operation of stables and Racing Drivers being put down for illness, injury, or corporal punishment.

The slaughter of Flavien’s Racing Driver at his own hand, the torment the creature had experienced, was unprecedented in Christian’s experience.

The guests were brought out, sat at a long table set in a large banquet hall in the main house, fed one meal a day and returned to the stable.

During this time they did not see the board or Flavien.

Christian wasn’t the only one currently present without a Racing Driver. The head of the Dodge stable’s lifetime partner had passed away in the spring, and a replacement hadn’t been furnished. The last time Christian had spoken to him, he’d made a joke about “shopping,” but the laughter hadn’t reached his eyes. It was doubtful another “appropriate” partner would have been found before the man resigned his position.

Further along the hall, Hasegawa Kenosuke, Honda’s head of racing, was also without his partner. Kick had won three big Japanese rally championships and then the pair had dropped off the racing map to climb rapidly through the ranks at Honda.

It would have been nice to have a conduit to access the community, but Toto and Susie seemed little the wiser, for their having two Racing Drivers between them and also sharing a confinement.

Meals were subdued.

There were guards in the room and no one knew what might draw Flavien’s ire.

The Racing Drivers, uncharacteristically, avoided each other’s contact except for a few moments at the beginnings and ends of the meal as they were brought or taken.

Returning to his box, the 15th day of their confinement, Christian found a pile of clothing set on a pair of shoes in the center of the stall. Pants, shirt, underwear, socks, and a pair of pajamas. They were all his size, and they were all brown.

There was a note in one of the shoes that read, “Please be dressed decently in time for your next meal.”

He whispered against the plank wall he shared with Helmut.

“They left me clothes.”

“Do you have anything white?” Helmut’s voice sounded plaintive.

“No…” Christian started.

With a sinking feeling, he realized the clothes must all be brown.

“Tell him it is livery,” Christian whispered urgently.

He heard Price moan a wind down.

From the rest of the stalls rose a grumble of discontented engines.

“Tell them it is livery,” Christian projected his voice a little louder, so the others could hear.

“Livery,” He heard a man say further on.

Christian shook his head and dressed himself. He had been wearing his pajamas for two weeks.

They probably stank.

The new clothes would start to stink, too.

The whole stable stank.

He’d gone nose deaf to it.

It had happened faster for the Racing Drivers, but they were more sensitive to it.

Price had begun complaining on the second day of their incarceration about the smell, and he and the other Racing Drivers had refused to settle to sleep by the third night. It was during the sleepless night, while the Racing Drivers cried, that Christian had begun to notice the smell.

By morning it had been all consuming.

It might have been possible to forget about it, except one of the Toyota pairs were medical Trainers, and they hounded the guards, who, by this time were standing outside the stable’s exterior doors. They weren’t pleased with the stench, either.

After another sleepless night, made worse by the constant noise and swarming of flies, they were taken to the banquet hall, and after being unable to eat, the Racing Drivers broke down when the guards tried to lead them back.

The guests remained in the banquet hall while the stables were cleared.

When they walked back in, the stench remained, and the stain on the floor, but Claire’s corpse was no longer hanging from the rafters in the stall she’d been placed in, and the flies cleared soon after.

The day went on, empty and still. The humans had no heart to talk, and the Racing Drivers went on with their curious, intense silence.

Christian managed to pry one of the planks between his box and Helmut’s open far enough to see in. The man and stallion appeared at the opening as he made, peering in at him, with silent curiosity.

Price was dressed in the brown pants and shirt, but he had put his white pajama shirt over it. There wasn’t much difference, anymore. Whites were used to efficient laundry service. It wasn’t their problem how their whites stayed white. But Racing Drivers were naturally fastidious, and there wasn’t much in the clean swept stalls to dirty the clothes, except the unwashed body within them.

[You have been working hard,] Price said to Christian.

[We will be able to leave when we need to. What have you been doing?]

Price looked shifty. [Planning.]

That was the powerful Racing Driver equivalent of breathing. Not a very informative answer.

[I have never seen wintering Racing Drivers act like this.] In warm weather, Racing Drivers were much more active, even in their stalls, but in winter, when the herd was together, they lived a much more insular life, with a great emphasis on the world they shared in their minds.

[Torpor,] Helmut gestured. [It happens in stressful situations.]

[At the FIA stable the herd lives in torpor much of the time,] Price mused.

Christian had forgotten until then that Price had been born and lived to matchable age at the FIA stable, before being sent to the extant Brabham. He didn’t talk about it. At Brumbys, Price barely talked at all, more as the years went by and his isolation from the herd he had cultivated increased. In the beginning, though, when it had been mostly the four of them, Christian and Helmut, Arden and Price, they had been close.

But stallions were men like any other, and a female could split a friendship like a woodax through a soft log.

[I only know that word for lizards,] Christian said.

[It is when an entire herd must live for what is inside them, because there is no hope spring will come again. It is what happens when the companies decide to punish resistance,] The hatred on Price’s face twisted his features out of all semblance of a human. [It is what I was TRYING to prevent at Redbull. But Glass…] He turned away from the opening, pounding his fists against his own thighs, revving high pitched like a squeal of rage through his teeth.

Helmut hurried to him, stroking his back.

[How do I know,] Price wailed, [How do I know they are alive? What if they all died? Slaughtered like Williams?] He cried out again, in uncontrolled terror, taken over by the supposition. [Family. My family. My little ones to care for.]

His cries were muffled by Helmut’s shirt.

Christian moved away from the space and let the panel swing closed again.

They could push it open from their side when they were ready to talk.

--

Falcon crouched in a runner’s pose beside Yaseen. The blindfold felt comfortable around his eyes, a soft material, in his color.

There was a vivid flash of shared vision as Yaseen threw the ball with all his might.

Falcon erupted from his crouch. Within steps he was up to full speed, sprinting in the direction Yaseen’s vision told him he’d thrown the ball. It had only been an instant, but they had played this game many times. As his swift run and even swifter mind calculated, from Yaseen’s point of view, that he had reached the place the ball would drop, Falcon turned, running backwards a few steps, turning his face upwards.

He could feel the cool winter sun on his face, though the blindfold kept him from perceiving anything through his closed eyes.

Another flash of vision showed him Yaseen’s view of the falling ball, and Falcon’s position under it.

Falcon reached out and his fingers closed around hard rubber.

He clutched the ball in both hands and sprinted blind back to his match’s feet. As he reached his man, he dropped to one knee and held the ball aloft over his head.

Yaseen’s hand stroked over Falcon’s face. ‘What a good boy,’ His mind whispered. ‘It is so impressive that you can do that.’

Falcon preened. It was not the most impressive thing he could do, using only Yaseen’s senses, but they had no car and road course, here. Only the little simulator on Yaseen’s phone. Falcon’s driving would have to wait until they went home.

He would make due with thorough exercise, and Yaseen’s touch and mental stimulus. They played in the yard every day, and Yaseen had even taken him out for walks in the hills around the compound. They had even gone hunting one day for grouse.

Something about the feel of the dead bird’s feathers in his hands, as he carried its body back to the man felt wrong, though, and in his sleep that night, he had cried.

But the pride he always felt when Yaseen used him for hunting overrode his strange disinclination. It was just that grouse weren’t a worthy prey for a falcon, he told himself.

Falcon had killed a timber wolf and a bull, and lots of things like deer. A little grouse was a shame to his abilities.

Still, he regretted it.

He had decided not to eat any of it.

Yaseen’s petting ended, it really hadn’t lasted long, anyway, and he leaned back up to throw the ball again.

Falcon scrambled back into position.

--

“What are they doing to him?” Helmut asked.

The back of the horse stable was lined with high windows, and the stable matches were peering out of them, watching the prince in the courtyard with his Racing Driver. The stallion was standing in the morning mist, dark spots in the grass where his bare feet had melted the frost. His skin was steaming.

The man dropped a pile of clothes in front of him and the Racing Driver pulled on the socks, pants, boots, shirt, and jacket. The man handed him a helmet that was not shaped like it was meant to protect him while driving.

“Tactical gear,” Stephane D'Aureville from Renault muttered. France still had mandatory military service, and Stephane had been a paratrooper. “Yaseen is getting him ready to hunt.”

“What does driving have to do with hunting?” A man’s voice from farther down the line asked.

“He’s faster and stronger. That isn’t only useful for driving. The whole reason the FIA exists is to keep them from being used for things like this, but the board are politicians. They know how valuable Racing Drivers would be if they were doing more.”

“He is going to go kill other Racing Drivers,” Helmut said. “High members of the resistance, probably. Flavien already has someone ready to kill the Rider. They can’t have infiltrators around everyone.”

“Who is he going for?” Kenosuke asked.

“Maybe we can find out,” Helmut said.

There was a pause. Then Price screeched like brakes in the rain, and there was the sound of a body against a wooden barrier. Price gasped in pain and there was another slam.

“What’s happening?!” Toto called.

“He’s trying to get out,” Helmut called back. “Price, STOP.”

The noise Price made next was like a remote control car running out of batteries, it sounded sick and faded away into nothing.

“Shoe,” Helmut said.

Christian pushed the slat out of the way and looked into Helmut and Price’s stall. Price was sagged onto the floor and Helmut was holding his shoulders. Helmut looked over at the sound of the slat and gestured. [Sunshine is with Shoe.]

That seemed like a cost that had been waiting to be paid.

Christian couldn’t make himself feel sorry for Price.

Everything seemed to have gotten better for Sunshine. He had become more subdued, anyway, but he was broken. Christian knew that better than anyone else did. Racing Drivers weren’t supposed to act like that.

They didn’t act like that unless they were beyond the reach of help.

Even Kimi hadn’t been able to help Sunshine.

Maybe it was better that Sunshine’s nightmare be over.

As for Shoe. There couldn’t be anything left of his mind, anyway.

As hard as Christian knew it to be for a man to lose a Racing Driver.

No Racing Driver could survive losing their man.

—

Falcon crept through the bushes along the river. He could sense his prey in their den. They had no idea he was here. They were too busy feeding. There was one, one of the largest males, who turned his attention from feeding to scan the area, but when he was alert, Falcon simply stilled, and his presence went unnoticed.

He waited until the rhythm of the prey turned the big male’s attention away, again, and he crawled, quick on his belly, to the edge of the garden fence, and made his way along it, screened from sight by the stone fence on ine side and the high brush grown up at the base of the wooden fence on the other.

As he approached the corner of the house he noticed something strange. Several drink bottles sitting in the path. They were clean and empty, with red labels. When he started to move past them, one fell over.

Some discs of metal inside made a faint noise.

He froze and stared at the bottle.

But none of the prey could have heard the noise from out here.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised.

He turned his head slowly. There was only the dark green and brown shadows of the brush.

There was warm air here.

With infinite slowness, two eyes opened in the brush, one above the other. They were sky blue and there was no face around them, just the darkness of the brush.

Falcon’s breath caught.

What was staring at him?

There were all manner of strange plants and creatures in the world. He eased away from it. If it was a predator it would have attacked.

He disrupted another of the bottles as he moved and it fell and made another metallic noise.

The creature’s blue eyes followed him.

His eyes caught motion before it had started, as something burst through the brush at him. He tensed and threw himself back, but it was fast. Faster than a wolf or a cobra. It snapped it’s jaws shut on his chest, just below his throat, where the edge of his armor showed.

He braced himself to be shaken, like a wolf would shake a small animal, but the creature from the brush just wrenched him forward, until his chest was pinned against the wooden post and crossbeam of the fence. Something else burst out of the brush at the level of his face and covered his mouth. It was soft and rough, like a hand in a glove.

He tried to push against the fence, but these arms were much stronger than he was.

The eyes had gone wild and round.

There was a tickle in his mind and the softest whisper, like someone breathing in his ear thought, ‘If you struggle, or call out to you man, I will know, and I will skin you while you live.’

Falcon screamed into his connection for Yaseen.

The scream didn’t go...anywhere.

There was glass over the doorway to Yaseen’s mind.

There was glass all around his mind. Everywhere. Sealing him in.

Before he could respond with thrashing and terror, the hand holding him to the fence by his armor, pushed him back and then pulled him, slamming him into the fence again.

‘Would you like the rules explained to you again?’ The voice asked.

The voice felt familiar. Like one Falcon knew to respect. He hesitated. ‘Lentaa?’

He was slammed against the fence again, and this time his face knocked against the post.

The mind felt amused. ‘No. Lewiston.’

He tried to pull away.

Then he felt hands grab him from behind, pulling his hands back, away from the fence. Holding him still. Human hands. They didn’t burn through his armor, but he KNEW what they were, and his hatred for them washed off the inside of the glass in his mind.

The brush creature moved out from the brush. It was wearing clothing that melded into the color and shape of the brush. Its face was not one eye on top of the other, but two eyes side by side, it had been laying down, like he had, on one side, waiting for him.

It was a Racing Driver. It stood and it was a little taller than him. Another stallion moved out from the brush further along. These two men holding him must be their humans.

The Racing Driver’s face was the same as its clothing, but now that it was away from the rest of the brush he could see the brush on its face was a picture, painted on like makeup.

But instead of a picture of a prettier face, it was a picture of brush.

Falcon scrabbled at the inside of the the glass, trying to get a message through to his man.

Suddenly the glass was gone. Falcon turned in the direction he could feel Yaseen.

Then the glass was up again.

The second stallion, who was much larger and more intimidating even than the one who had held Falcon, darted off in the direction Falcon had looked.

He was going after Yaseen.

Was he going to kill Falcon’s man?! Falcon did thrash, then, but his movements were quickly restrained by thin bindings. He was tripped onto his face. The two humans and the Racing Driver picked him up by his elbows and knees and carried him down the path where he’d come, away from the den of his prey.

As he was carried away he saw the Red stallion with the yellow hair, the one who had been scanning for threats, come to the window. He made eye contact with Falcon, and then turned away, into the light and warmth of the house.

How?!

How had they known he was hunting them? How had they known to stop him?

He looked up at the blue eyed stallion, gripping Falcon’s right elbow. ‘How?’

The blue eyed stallion looked down at him. ‘You are like a Ferrari.’

‘What does that mean?? How did you know I would come here?’

A smirk crossed his captor’s face.

‘Ferraris always come straight for the trophy. To keep them from capturing it, we must hide and wait.’

‘Trophy?’

‘Our greatest stallion. We knew you would come for him.’ The stallion smirked. His human laughed. ‘The rookies of the Grand Tour are VERY good at capture the trophy. Now we will take you back to where you came from. We will capture YOUR greatest asset.’

Falcon looked down at the man carrying his legs. He hadn’t made any noises. There was a sound like a cracking piece of plastic, but bigger, like the air was being broken. It came from the hillside where Falcon had last felt Yaseen waiting. Where the big stallion had gone.

A gunshot.

It had to be a gunshot, didn’t it?

Nothing else could sound like that.

Yaseen must have killed the big stallion.

Falcon felt a little twinge in his heart for that. He comforted himself by reminding himself that otherwise, the stallion must have killed Yaseen. He felt an even bigger twinge about that, but not like he would have expected, for the idea of his man’s death.

The man in front of him, carrying his legs, raised his head. It must have been him the stallion matched to. He stayed alert to the direction, and then there was movement in the brush ahead of them.

Yaseen stepped out.

He looked stressed. He was holding his hands behind his back, and he was biting a black strip of cloth with his mouth. He made a loud noise when his eyes met Falcon’s. The sound was stopped up by the cloth.

For a moment, Falcon was puzzled by his odd behavior.

Then the big stallion stepped out of the brush behind him. He was grabbing Yaseen’s hands, holding them behind his back, so Yaseen was pushed indelicately in front of him.

Yaseen yelled into the cloth again. His eyes narrowed and he glared at Falcon.

The strangers led them up the hill, away from the den where their prey was hiding.

Shoe was in that den, and Sunshine with him, and, from Falcon and Yaseen’s scouting, apparently a double handful of other Racing Drivers, supporters of the FIA’s enemies. Champions.

Prey worth Falcon’s skill.

As he was carried, gently, in the talons of these strangers, he felt afraid.

He was beginning to realize that it had been HIS turn to be hunted. He was oddly reluctant to be taken to whatever death they had planned for him. He had faced death many times. He had fought and killed the lion that had eaten Yaseen’s first Racing Driver.

It had been months afterwards that he had realized his triumph had been granted to him by the knife he was given, that the earlier stallion had been denied.

Yaseen never acknowledged that Falcon had surpassed Hawk’s honorable death.

Now Falcon was the one whose prey had turned and gotten the better of him.

He had failed, and Yaseen was going to be eaten alongside him.

Any decent Racing Driver would mourn for betraying their match’s best interests this way.

Falcon let his head flop back as the men’s footsteps cause him to bob and bump. He started to laugh.

After Being Retrieved from Flavien’s Compound

Refugee Winter 2017

Falcon lifted his feet up past the top of the middle row of seats in front of him and grabbed at the roof of the car with the toes of his shoes. Norway, who was sitting in the seat in front of him, turned around and snarled when one of Falcon’s shoes slipped and bumped him in the back of head. Pippi, in the middle left seat., elbowed Norway. He snarled at her too, but more quietly, and then turned to look out the window.

[I am feeling bored by this,] Falcon announced.

In the very front passenger seat, Price sent patience. [We will be to a safe place, soon.]

Falcon touched Contessa’s arm.

She didn’t even twitch, just kept looking out the window.

‘Do not bother her,’ Pippi told him, again.

Instead he reached out, back along the road, to one of the cars travelling further back. This one was a big van, like he was used to Racing Drivers being transported in. There were humans in each of the crates, but he could only feel Yaseen, and the stallion riding in the passenger seat of the van. The stallion who had captured Falcon on the hunt, and forced Yaseen’s car to show where it had been.

Then brought an ax into Flavien’s compound and forced Flavien to release all his prisoners.

‘Stallion?’ Falcon whispered to Pauli, ‘When will we arrive at the safe place? What will you do to keep our men from hurting us when we are there?’

The stallion’s mind moved slowly, but it was so strong and far reaching. It was like the big champion that had to be made to sleep, because he knew how to break out of glass. Pauli was a premiere driver.

‘When the sun rises again we will arrive. The men have arranged to keep your matches from hurting you. They will be in a different area, and our men, the kind men, will keep your matches away, restrained.’ He pictured that the FIA board were all holding their hands behind their backs. Falcon couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t lie and move their hands from behind their backs, but Pauli’s image felt sure the humans would stay still. He felt like he should trust the big hunter.

‘What will I do to pass the time until that happens?’ Falcon asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I am bored.’

Pauli’s mind moved away from him, to one of his companions, the Guardian stallion, who had locked his mind to Falcon after their fight.

The Guardian stallion opened his mind and Pauli’s closed away.

The other Racing Drivers in the SUV with Falcon, and the Racing Drivers in the car ahead and the cars behind turned their attention to Guardian.

‘Once my team and I went abroad to race on a new track,’ Guardian sang, tuning the thoughts to feel like telling a story of a memory.

He changed the sensation of his singing to sing the refrain, to sound more immediate, as if Falcon and the others were feeling it while it happened. ‘We walked it up, we walked it down, and then we walked it back.’

‘The crew had built the fastest car. Our rivals were in white.’

‘I drove it up, I drive it down and then I drove it back.’

‘No one could ever touch my speed the shining red sped by.’

‘I raced them up, I raced them down and then I raced them back.’

‘The checkered flag was coming down I could see my match's face.’

‘I sped it up, I didn't slow down, my rival at my back.’

‘The wheels spun the race was gone the gravel ate my chances.’

‘I messed it up, I broke her down, and then I walked her back.’

They all listened in stunned stillness. A moment after it had ended, Contessa turned away from the window, the scabby mess of her ruined eye exposed to the air so Falcon could see it. She hadn’t communicated with anyone since her match, Mrs Pruitt had started after her with the fork. ‘Do you know the song about the foal who went to a new stable?’ She wondered.

Guardian touched her mind and saw her experiences of the winter, and started to sing again, sweetly, every song she liked best, and then the songs each of them liked best, from their neatly packed away memories from their happier lives in the stables, and before that, from their lives as human children.

[lboogie1906]

Alexander Miles (May 18, 1838 – May 7, 1918) was an inventor Born near Circleville, Ohio, to Michael Miles and Mary Pompy. He is known for patenting his design for improving the automatic opening and closing of elevator doors, which was issued on October 11, 1887 (US Patent 371,207).

He moved to Winona, Minnesota in 1870 and met his wife, Candance J. Dunlap. In 1879, he relocated his family to Duluth after the birth of their daughter.

Before moving to Winona, Minnesota, he began exploring his passion for inventing, first by creating hair care products while working as a barber in Wisconsin. He began operating a barbershop in the St. Louis Hotel. Using his earnings to purchase a real estate office, he became the first African American member of the Duluth Chamber of Commerce. In 1884, he erected a three-story brownstone building in Duluth, transforming the surrounding area into “Miles Block.” began developing his concept to improve the function of the elevator door.

Despite John W. Meaker’s patented invention of the first automatic elevator door system (US Patent 147,853) in 1874, many elevators still required the doors and the shaft to be manually opened and closed. He became concerned with the dangerous risks associated with elevators once he noticed a shaft door left open during a ride with his young daughter. Although Meaker received the patent first, it was his innovation that made electric-powered elevator doors widely accepted around the world. Today, the influence of his patent is present in modern designs for elevator systems in which automatic doors are a standard feature.

He and his family relocated to Chicago, where founded The United Brotherhood, a life insurance company that sold life insurance primarily to African Americans who could not get coverage from white-owned firms. Due to Chicago’s economic challenges at the time, he and his family relocated once again to Seattle. Partly because of the success of his invention, he was known to be the wealthiest African American in the Pacific Northwest region. In 2007, he was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence