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businessmarketreports · 2 months

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Top Trends in the Heart Failure Major Market for 2024

Heart failure (HF) remains a significant global health concern, affecting millions and imposing a heavy burden on healthcare systems. However, the landscape of the heart failure market is undergoing a dynamic transformation, driven by innovation and a growing focus on improved patient outcomes.

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Here's a glimpse into the top trends shaping this market in 2024:

1. The Rise of Minimally Invasive Interventions:

Minimally Invasive Valve Replacement (MIVR): Traditional open-heart surgery for valve replacement is being challenged by MIVR procedures. These minimally invasive techniques offer faster recovery times, reduced patient discomfort, and potentially improved long-term outcomes.

Transcatheter Aortic Valve Replacement (TAVR): TAVR is a well-established MIVR option for aortic valve stenosis, particularly for high-risk patients who may not be suitable for open-heart surgery. Advancements in technology are enabling broader patient application of TAVR procedures.

Percutaneous Mitral Valve Repair (PMVR): PMVR is a newer technique gaining traction for mitral valve regurgitation. This minimally invasive approach offers a less invasive alternative to traditional mitral valve surgery.

2. Precision Medicine and Personalized Care:

Genetic Testing and Tailored Therapies: Identifying the underlying genetic causes of heart failure allows for more targeted treatment approaches. This could involve personalized medication regimens or therapies aimed at addressing specific genetic risk factors.

Remote Monitoring and Telehealth Solutions: Wearable devices and remote monitoring technologies allow for continuous patient monitoring, enabling early detection of potential complications and facilitating timely interventions. Telehealth consultations offer improved access to specialist care, particularly in remote areas.

3. The Growing Focus on Heart Failure Prevention:

Early Detection and Risk Management: Emphasis is shifting towards early detection of heart failure risk factors like hypertension, diabetes, and obesity. This allows for lifestyle modifications, medication management, and preventative measures to potentially delay or even prevent the onset of heart failure.

4. Innovation in Cardiac Devices and Technologies:

Next-Generation Ventricular Assist Devices (VADs): VADs are implanted pumps that assist the heart in pumping blood. Advancements in VAD technology are leading to smaller, more efficient, and quieter devices with improved long-term outcomes for patients.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) in Diagnostics and Treatment: AI algorithms are being used to analyze patient data, predict potential complications, and personalize treatment plans. AI-powered tools can also assist with early detection of heart failure based on medical scans or patient monitoring data.

5. Evolving Healthcare Delivery Models:

Focus on Value-Based Care: There's a growing emphasis on healthcare models that focus on patient outcomes and value delivered, rather than simply volume of procedures. This incentivizes the development of more effective and cost-efficient treatment strategies for heart failure.

The Rise of Cardiac Rehabilitation Programs: Comprehensive cardiac rehabilitation programs play a crucial role in improving patient outcomes and quality of life after a heart failure event. These programs combine exercise therapy, education, and psychological support to help patients manage their condition and live longer, healthier lives.

Conclusion:

The heart failure market is brimming with promising advancements. The focus on minimally invasive procedures, personalized care, preventative measures, and innovative technologies offers hope for improved patient outcomes and a brighter future for those living with heart failure. As these trends continue to evolve, the heart failure market will play a vital role in alleviating the burden of this global health challenge.

#heart failure market

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breakdownsbuttlights · 4 years

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Eeyyy! I heard from birbs around that it's your hatching day. Happy birthday (or belated bday).

Picture this: one good morning during breakfast, Ratchet has freshly shaved and Drift couldn't help but run his fingers on his smooth face, distracting him while he's pouring coffee into his mug until it spilled out from the brim. Meanwhile, Mole in the bg being a sweet kitty he is, providing food for the dogs by pushing bacons off the plate. It's one of my fave domestic fantasies of your hf dratchet headcanons 😁

Aww, thank you! Bless the chaos in this scene. Ratchet pouring coffee everywhere and Mole knocking bacon on the floor, all because Drift can’t resist those freshly shaven cheeks. Just another morning at the Dratchets. ☺️

#dratchet #mole #humanformers #human au #domestic #fluff #mapelie

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her-culture · 7 years

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The Importance of Hidden Figures

It has been shown time and time again the significant impact that the media can generate amongst the public. Through its representation and depiction of people, this powerful tool of expression and communication is able to adhere to and/or alter the way people perceive others. The power of the media carries the expectations and hopes of many underrepresented minorities. Hidden Figures is the movie of the true story of three African-American women working for NASA during the Space Race, a historically significant time for astronomy. Its impact lies in its portrayal of black women in America, which in the media has previously been shown in extremes: as women who are aggressive and irrationally angry, or as objects meant to be hyper-sexualized and inhumanly defined solely by their sexuality. Most forms of representation have been dehumanizing and based largely off of stereotypes. As a non black woman, I was able to make many empowering observations about the movie that are important to be noted by non black people as a way of understanding the hardships faced by black women in America due to the normalcy of misogynoirism. Hidden Figures, by telling the world the brave stories of three incredible women, Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson, shatters the continuity of the media’s misrepresentation of black women and gives the world an opportunity to learn about the impact that these women have made in the face of their hardships, and gives young black girls the representation and inspiration they need to see.

The consistent perpetuation of stereotypes and misrepresentations of black women are prevalent in Western media. They affect other people’s perceptions and treatment of and towards them, as well as create an unfair environment for black women. In a world typically riddled with dehumanizing traits, Hidden Figures defies these and shows people a humane portrayal of black women. It is set in a time where working outside of the home in a STEM related environment, even as a white woman, was a leap for womankind. Black women faced two immense barriers to their success: their gender and race. Hidden Figures shows the world that black women hold the strength, resilience, and utter brilliance to fight against systemically oppressive barriers. These barriers are exemplified when the women in Hidden Figures have to work in an office that is brimming with the common racism of that time and are constantly told that they do not belong in an institution they have worked so hard to be a part of. Their strength and endurance shows the difficulty that black women have lived through in America. Their intelligence is shown through their ability to not only continue working at NASA, but to contribute significantly to historically momentous aspects of American and universal astronomical and revolutionary history. They are not the irrationally angry people we see on comedy shows nor are they objectified to the point of inhumane sexualization. They are humans who have had their brilliance confined to the shackles that a racist, misogynistic society has created, people who have had to go through five times the obstacles that their coworkers have gone through and beings whose struggles and fights for their humanity were forced into systemic silence.

Through the defiance of the stereotypes we always see in the media, Hidden Figures becomes a humane representation of black women, and an important source of empowerment for young black girls. Taking into consideration the stereotypes mentioned above and the way they affect the public’s perception of black women, as well as a black girl’s self-perception, this defiance is important to understand. Its impact is substantial, as it is common for impressionable children to look to the media for role models to understand what is deemed acceptable and normal by their societies. To see a positive representation of black women is to see themselves within these women. As a non-black person of colour myself, seeking representation in the media was important to me and my self-esteem. By being presented with figures who embody positive, human traits, children can embrace their individualism and bring themselves to success rather than be defined by generalizations and stereotypes. For people of colour, who are either underrepresented or misrepresented in the media, what Hidden Figures brings to the media is the opportunity for non-black people like myself to learn about the struggles of black women, and how their individuality and humanity will always speak more to their character than the generalizations presented in the media. And more importantly, Hidden Figures gives young black girls their own heroes: strong women who, in the face of constant racism and misogyny, were able to resiliently navigate through their obstacles. They fight as unapologetic black women conquering fields dominated by white men. They show young black girls the importance of embracing their true selves fully and lovingly even while facing constant systemic and societal pressures to remain restrained by narrow-minded molds.

Hidden Figures is an impactful movie in a time of social awareness. It is an informative medium to those who do not identify with the struggle faced by black women, and a powerful message to these women and girls that their resilience and intelligence is significant and ever present.

Head image sourced from http://s3.foxmovies.com/foxmovies/production/films/123/images/gallery/hf-gallery-02-gallery-image.jpg

#hidden figures #film #culture

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[HF] A Viscount's Decision

Part 1

It was a decision, one that had to be made.

It didn’t have to have heart and soul, like so many might say, but it was a decision that had to align with him.

The man had plenty of experience making decisions, he made them every day, in fact; which of them is guilty or innocent, which of them should be hired or fired, which of the Baron’s letters to reply to, when to hold a celebration in his own honour. His was a Viscount, after all.

[…] Whenever, his Manor was set upon to host some of those townsfolk from Twyn, the commoners he liked to call them, he only deigned to visit them for one reason. “Good morning, your grace, how do you do, your grace, we are here for your expertise, your grace.” He liked that honorific, ‘your grace’, it relayed the symphony of congratulations and gratification, apropos to his divine work. […] On occasion, he would even ask his wife to call him that – on those days he had thought he had made a mistake.

The Viscount pondered some more. The decision shouldn’t be too difficult, for it concerned his duty to the Viscount, himself and the next, and he always did right by the Viscount.

“Hmm,” he frowned, suddenly recalling a faded memory, far in the distance, sun-bleached and trapped behind a wardrobe.

It was the previous Viscount. […] That late Viscount had come often enough into the current Viscount’s room as a child, muscling in through the small door- frame with his heavy-set jaw, tailored, pressed clothes and his usual litany. He was a giant in the small room, his presence booming and proud, like he knew he was an idol.

However, in this moth-eaten memory, the norm had inflected.

“You are a viscount,” the late Viscount had said in his gravelly growl. “Do you know what that is?”

[…] He had shaken his head, because he had been young and ignorant of the ways of the world. Plus, he rarely saw the Viscount and hence rarely dared to speak to him.

“You are a name, a great person,” he had said, his silhouette dark, but his eyes flashed as a sliver of moonlight adorned the Viscount, as though he had commanded the moon to give him a spotlight.

The young viscount-to-be had smiled, awed at his powers. “Like a King?”

The older viscount had frowned then, and the shadows lengthened from his heavy brow, so that he had transformed into a figure from a nightmare, a knight of the underworld.

“A viscount does not dream, that is for the serfs. We make decisions, that is what we have been chosen for – our divine right. A viscount trains in his childhood, away from his toys, so that he can make decisions when others cannot.” He stepped forward, and the young viscount-to-be shrunk back in his silk, plush covers away from this great guardian. “Remember, never let a decision just happen or unfold. Own it, control it. We are a dream. For we make decisions.”

The young viscount-to-be had straightened up as he listened and watched the late viscount once more, eyes wide with wonder at his assisted epiphany.

“But, don’t overstep your mark, young viscount,” he said as he turned to leave. “Study hard in your philosophies, young viscount, so you know your duties to those that do not know theirs. You decide what you should be.”

Encouraged by his words and wisdom, the young viscount said bravely as the viscount turned his back to open the door again, “Isn’t it who do not, sir?” He had just had his lesson on decorum and oration that morning, after all.

The late viscount had paused and glanced around, something strange flickering in his eyes. Was that the divine power he talked about? “It was my decision to use ‘that’. Do you want me to call you ‘it’?”

Something lodged in this throat as he stared at the late viscount with those dark shadowed eyes. The present viscount shook his head, what the foolish young boy he had been.

[…] The previous viscount had been right, of course, about decisions. To control was to own, and to own was to live. Pure and simple was his philosophy. So, who better to make this decision but him?

He had a few things to consider, however, for it was not a simple process for him to provide for his family and his people. […] Philanthropy would promote his image, the Viscount thought at his grand desk, book shelves crammed full of theories of philosophy and the more practicable economics. Experience had taught him the power of adoration and respect amongst the townsfolk, and also how to tip the scales of give and take in his favour if he simply disguised taking as giving.

So what to do?

It would be one more mouth to food, but that wouldn’t break his private accounts. However the mouth would grow to require more food and clothes. There was little need for it to read, he mused. It could aid the new young viscount and his older sister, after it had been trained up a bit.

The Viscount nodded slowly. Yes, he thought. I think I will adopt it.

He rang a bell, the finest for leagues. Let’s see what the Viscountess thinks about this decision.

Part 2

[…] It took one look. That was all. They couldn’t take this babe. Could they ask for a new one instead?

They exchanged a look, obviously hosting the same doubt.

They had known that the babe was poorly blessed with being the colour of that which plopped in the toilet, vile really, the Viscountess thought, but it was so dark. She had seen a few of them walking around town, in Dwayn and in her hometown, but she had always avoided them. Now she would be adopting this one. It didn’t even look healthy. Perhaps it had Foreign AIDS. That was a thing, right?

The Viscount’s thoughts were more aligned with her latter thought. Where would all those plans for praise and profit be if the babe died?

The townsfolk would be talking about them for years. ‘You remember them, the Mont-garrets? They couldn’t even take care of a stray babe. One touch of their hands and it died.’

He would bring shame upon his family, his proud name.

‘Xenophobics they were, mhmm,’ he heard them say in the tavern, when topic of conversation was sparse, or perhaps even when it was not. ‘It was a good thing, the King stripped them of their titles and lands and shunned and shamed them. If that is not the sign that they were not working for the one true god, then I don’t know what is.’

No, they couldn’t let this happen.

The Viscountess smiled at the ladies, noting how they had plastered themselves to the far wall, as though it would make the dingy hut bigger. Laying a graceful arm on the viscount’s, she drew her husband closer to her side and said quietly,

“Your grace, I realise the one true god has suggested to adopt the babe, but are you positive it was this babe he was referring to? This babe seems… off colour.” She giggled, surprised at herself. “Oh, my. Do excuse my choice of words, husband. Your grace, the babe seems unable to tackle life. It is struggling to breathe. Perhaps it is a sign the babe is not … meant to be with us,” she simpered.

The babe was so small, thin and still. Its eyes were glued shut, it’s nose plugged up, it’s mouth dry as it tried to breathe. They could not have such a scandal in their hands.

The Viscount felt a surge of affection for the Viscountess like he had never felt before. He seized at the opportunity, and agreed, “Indeed, Viscountess, you are correct of course.”

He had told the town, however, and needed a game-plan to deal with the rumours that would ensue once he had returned back to the manor empty-handed. He took the two measly steps to the two women. Their eyes were wide, faces pleased and adoring. They curtsied before him again, awaiting his words that would conclude that he was taking the babe off their hands. Undoubtedly, they thought they rejoiced that they were avoiding the slander when the baby died and perhaps drown their tiny business, the Viscount realised.

“The babe is unwell,” he barked loudly and abruptly. “I was under the impression you were taking care of the babe. Yet, looking at it’s condition, it seems you are xenophobics!” he spat in their faces.

The women blanched, paling so they blended into their crisp white-washed clothes. They stuttered and spluttered, shaking their heads, eyes rolling this way and that, like cattle.

“No, my lord--”

“Your grace,” the Viscountess corrected automatically.

“Your grace. We have no such affiliation or affliction. We took in the baby to make it well,” babbled the plumper lady, her wayward mousy hair electrified in her anxiety.

“The Baron passed us the baby for he had no wet-nurses available at the castle,” the other woman added hurried. “Our child was stillborn you see, so we took in the babe, to care for it as needed.”

“The babe already had the head-cold when she was passed to us. It has had trouble feeding because of it, hence it has lost a lot of weight,” the plump woman continued hastily. “She is a sweet little thing,” she said, evidently trying to sell the child as not a broken good, so as to get it off her hands.

The Viscount retorted testily, “You expect me to believe that this child is at death’s door from no fault of your own. I should take this babe to save it from your murderous hands and send you both to the castle dungeons.” He paused, looking at their aghast expressions. They had a bigger shock to come. “Unless… of course you wish to make reparations and care for the baby as your own?”

Their eyes widened. Yes, there you go. You thought you could dupe the Viscount?

“Oh, your grace, we would be delighted to care for the child!” they whooped, eyes brimming with tears of joy, hugging each other.

“Oh, thank you, your grace, thank you!” the plump one blubbered, frothing at the mouth in joy. “We would never harm a hair on little Hekata’s head.”

The younger made to hug the Viscount, but then reconsidered as he instinctively moved away. “Yes, thank you. We promise to care for her with everything we have. Will you want her once she is well?”

The Viscount paused. His angst and outrage had been so completely replaced by confusion that he was stumped. Why would they want such a babe?

“You have already taken it upon yourselves to name her, in full knowledge that we would come to take her?” The Viscountess came to his rescue, her tone calm and collected. “That is quite an imposition.”

“Oh no!” the plump woman smiled, not at all worried at another accusation. “She named herself, the wee thing.”

Part 3

The air between the Viscount and the Viscountess was strange on the ride home, and the weak light battling through the drawn curtains and the plush cushions did little to set them at ease as they stared at each other.

Their five-year union was not always a happy one, nor one that didn’t often frustrate each other, despite what one might hear from all the gossip around town. Only common goals had allowed them to struggle through the hurdles until their first child, Elspeth. Since then, the Viscount began to understand the Viscountess better and the Viscountess could empathise with the Viscount a little more. To the Viscountess right now, however, it seemed that they were flowing down different streams, barely able to see each other as they were swept through foreign scenery.

Why had he agreed to keep the babe?

She glanced down at the babe swathed in the red material beside her. The babe gasped, snapping awake for a few moments and showing brilliant green eyes that contrasted terrifically with her dark skin, before she drifted back to sleep, and back to the rasping it was. Why would he risk compromising their perfect image they had strived so hard for, for this little girl-babe?

The Viscount could see the unspoken question in his wife’s eyes, however, he did not answer her.

His mind was whirring, thinking up so many possibilities that arose from his decision, disregarding plans and making new and refined ones. He could not waste this opportunity; it could change everything.

The babe appearing in the forest was divine intervention, a godsend, aimed to remind him of his own responsibility. Recently, perhaps he had slacked off, allowing himself to be governed by greed more than normal, but with this decision, he had moral support; the one true god and the philosophers that lined his shelf. Plus the economists.

The babe was clever. It could speak at barely a month, recognise individuals and had already began learning from those woman’s behaviour. If he played this correctly, giving the babe the best tutors for economics, mathematics, science and perhaps a censored philosophy. It would change our very perception, science and more. He couldn’t just leave it there with those women where such a chance might die, he would ensure it lived and then train it to become a saviour for society. […]

His mind paused its frantic excited whirring as he glanced down at it. As he watched it struggling against the cloth, eyes turned towards him, his heart was suddenly conflicted. For, suddenly, the it was on the verge of not being an it.

No, the voice of the late viscount filled his head. You are not a commoner. We make decisions, no matter the cost. Decisions do not involve the heart and soul. They must be made with the mind, not left to unfold by the universe. You are a viscount.

That ghost of the past was right. He had made sacrifices for his family back in the day, and now it was his turn, and this little babe’s. The Mont-garret’s had a knack for making the right decisions, and he had a knew this decision aligned with his philosophy. The Principle of Permissible Harm, he though, and glanced out of the window to hide his heartbreak.

The tear that the current viscount shed in the carriage that day was the last until his demise half a decade later.

[…]

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alertsksndmcblr · 6 years

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BENGALURU: Heavy rain over the past few weeks has resulted in an immensely happy situation for Karnataka since most of the 13 major reservoirs, including KRS and Kabini across Cauvery — Bengaluru is dependent on them for drinking water — are full. Experts from the Karnataka State Natural Disaster Monitoring Centre(KSNDMC) said the reservoirs generally fill to the brim by August-end. This year, they are full two months in advance. KSNDMC managing director GS Srinivas Reddy said that except for Supa (Uttara Kannada district) and Ghataprabha (Belagavi district) dams, all others are just a few feet fromattaining their maximum water levels. All major reservoirs in Karnataka are full following heavy rain in the past few weeks. “That the water level in so many dams is near the brim is a record of sorts in 15 years,” Reddy said. “It is a good sign for agriculture and drinking water needs of the state,” he added. Reddy said Bengaluru will have no drinking water woes this year as all dams in the Cauvery river basin are near-full. “While Kabini is full, KRS as on July 7 was 16 ft away from the full reservoir level of 124ft,” he said. “With two other dams in the Cauvery catchment — Harangi and Hemavathi — also full, we expect the KRS dam to reach its full capacity soon. Last year, water level in KRS dam hadn’t touched 100ft even in August.” Officials at KSNDMC said with copious rain in Maharashtra, the inflow into Almatti dam has been impressive and it is just 24ft away from being filled. “Only dams along Malaprabha and Ghataprabha rivers will take more time to fill,” said an official. Thunderstorms in B’luru likely today A day after heavy rain claimed three lives in the coastal districts, a pregnant woman was rescued from her flooded house in Katapady of Udupi district on Sunday. District authorities issued alerts as rain is expected to continue in coastal districts for the next two days. Officials said thunderstorms are likely to hit Bengaluru Urban district starting Monday. Expect rain in city from today While the coast, Malnad and parts of North Karnataka have been soaked in heavy rain, places in southinterior Karnataka, including Bengaluru region, have remained relatively dry. But not for long, according to the weatherman. Thunderstorms are likely to hit Bengaluru Urban district starting Monday and light to moderate spells of rain with winds reaching 32kmph or more have been forecast for the city. The city was overcast for most part of Sunday and moderate showers were reported from several parts later in the day. “Bengaluru receives heavy showers in August, September and October,” said a Met department official https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/bengaluru/most-karnataka-dams-full-2-months-early/articleshowprint/64913037.cms ************************************************************************************************************************************* July is the one to watch for.... The complexities of the monsoon, which runs the State and the country’s economy, depend not only on how much it rains, but also when it rains. Much of the success in filling reservoirs in the Cauvery basin depends on the rains in July. A failure here may lead to widespread distress even if the rainfall picks up later, shows the Karnataka Natural Disaster Monitoring Centre’s statistical analysis of the 44 years of data of inflows and rainfall at localised gauges. KSNDMC looked into the possible scenarios of monsoon failures in various months and their impact on storage capacities of the Cauvery reservoirs. Assuming normal rainfall in the upper catchment areas of Hassan, Chikkamagaluru and Kodagu districts in Karnataka and Wayanad district in Kerala, the average inflow during the monsoon to the river is 157 tmcft. For July failure, they narrowed down nine years where rainfall in July has been deficient, but the overall monsoon season had been normal. In seven out of nine cases, inflows into reservoirs were ultimately lower despite strong rainfall in other months that made up for weak rainfall in July. In 2017, for example, the State saw record rainfall in many places. In July, rainfall was 43% deficient, while the overall monsoon season was just 7% deficient (considered ‘normal’ monsoon), particularly as the rains picked up after August. However, the inflow was lower by more than 37 tmcft. Using statistical regression models, they estimated that for every 4mm reduction in rainfall in July in the upper catchment areas, nearly 1.1 tmcft of inflow reduces in the key reservoirs along the Cauvery. While this understanding may be just in the preliminary stages, G.S. Srinivasa Reddy, Director, KSNDMC, says it adds to the integrated approach into understanding Karnataka’s inflows and potential release to Tamil Nadu. “This is an important consideration on forecasting and to understand, in a holistic manner, how the monsoon will play out. Currently, the Supreme Court verdict dictates Karnataka should release a quantum of water monthly to Tamil Nadu. However, rainfall in each month is important, as well as where it rains,” he said. https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-karnataka/july-is-the-one-to-watch-for/article24368229.ece ************************************************************************************************************************************* Karnataka: Monsoon blues... Rainfall exceeding normal levels has caused mishaps in Coastal and Malnad regions, but in Raichur, there is a rain deficit so far Several parts of the state, especially Udupi, Chikkamgaluru and Kodagu, have been affected by heavy rains. In Katpady in Udupi, a family was forced to carry a stretcher with dead body while wading through knee-deep water. Sheshi Poojarthi (98), a resident of Kambalabetta, died on Saturday night and since the area has been flooded, her family members decided to carry the stretcher amidst water surrounding the house above knee level, by attaching tubes to it for about 500-600 mt, to cremate the body. Officials said they would have made arrangements if the family had informed them about the death. Meanwhile, in the wake of continuous and heavy rains, two teams of the National Disaster Response Force (NDRF) have been predeployed in Mangaluru and Udupi districts to assist district administration in rescue and relief in case of emergency. NDRF has set up VHF, HF and VSAT communication in Kaup of Udupi . In Mangaluru, Sushanth (20) son of Nagesh from Ambedkar Nagar, Vamanjoor, is feared drowned in the Phalguni river in Kavoor PS limits. A search operation is in progress. Pilgrims from Bengaluru had a lucky escape in Dharmasthala. A car was damaged after a tree fall on it near the KSRTC bus stand on Sunday morning. Resident from JP Nagar, Anil, and three others were travelling to Dharmasthala and the tree fell on the car around 5 am. In Kodagu, vehicular movement on the Titmati bridge has been affected after a landslide. Since the land slide was reported on an old bridge, vehicle movement was diverted to the new bridge. It is now learnt that the authorities were forced to prohibit movement on the new bridge temporarily because of the land slide. Landslide was also reported at about four places of Mullayanagiri in Chikkamagaluru. A few boulders have fallen on the road, making travel dangerous. Rivers across the State are reaching danger mark because of continuous rains. In view of the rains, Dakshina Kannada DC S Sasikanth Senthil has declared holiday to all schools and PU Colleges in the district on Monday. Only light rain in city Bengalureans, need not be worried till July 12 as the city is likely to receive only light rainfall. Dr Srinivas Reddy, Director, Karnataka State Natural Disaster Management Centre told Bangalore Mirror that coastal and Malnad regions will continue to receive moderate to heavy rainfall till July 12 and interior parts will receive scattered and moderate rainfall. Excess rainfall The state has received 19 per cent excess rainfall till July 6 in the current monsoon. According to statistics obtained from Karnataka State Natural Disaster Management Centre (KSNDMC), the state has received 452 mm rainfall as against the normal rainfall of 379 mm by July 6. The highs and lows Hassan has received 91 per cent more rainfall than is the normal by the end of June. Chikkamagaluru and Chitradurga districts have received an excess rainfall of 75 per cent and 65 per cent. Raichur district has received the lowest rainfall in the state with 100 mm rainfall as against the normal of 148 mm. https://bangaloremirror.indiatimes.com/news/state/karnataka-monsoon-blues/rain/articleshow/64909850.cms Most Karnataka dams full, 2 months early

BENGALURU: Heavy rain over the past few weeks has resulted in an immensely happy situation for Karnataka since most of the 13 major reservoirs, including KRS and Kabini across Cauvery — Bengaluru is dependent on them for drinking water — are full. Experts from the Karnataka State Natural Disaster Monitoring Centre(KSNDMC) said the reservoirs generally fill to the brim by August-end. This year, they are full two months in advance. KSNDMC managing director GS Srinivas Reddy said that except for Supa (Uttara Kannada district) and Ghataprabha (Belagavi district) dams, all others are just a few feet fromattaining their maximum water levels. All major reservoirs in Karnataka are full following heavy rain in the past few weeks. “That the water level in so many dams is near the brim is a record of sorts in 15 years,” Reddy said. “It is a good sign for agriculture and drinking water needs of the state,” he added. Reddy said Bengaluru will have no drinking water woes this year as all dams in the Cauvery river basin are near-full. “While Kabini is full, KRS as on July 7 was 16 ft away from the full reservoir level of 124ft,” he said. “With two other dams in the Cauvery catchment — Harangi and Hemavathi — also full, we expect the KRS dam to reach its full capacity soon. Last year, water level in KRS dam hadn’t touched 100ft even in August.” Officials at KSNDMC said with copious rain in Maharashtra, the inflow into Almatti dam has been impressive and it is just 24ft away from being filled. “Only dams along Malaprabha and Ghataprabha rivers will take more time to fill,” said an official. Thunderstorms in B’luru likely today A day after heavy rain claimed three lives in the coastal districts, a pregnant woman was rescued from her flooded house in Katapady of Udupi district on Sunday. District authorities issued alerts as rain is expected to continue in coastal districts for the next two days. Officials said thunderstorms are likely to hit Bengaluru Urban district starting Monday. Expect rain in city from today While the coast, Malnad and parts of North Karnataka have been soaked in heavy rain, places in southinterior Karnataka, including Bengaluru region, have remained relatively dry. But not for long, according to the weatherman. Thunderstorms are likely to hit Bengaluru Urban district starting Monday and light to moderate spells of rain with winds reaching 32kmph or more have been forecast for the city. The city was overcast for most part of Sunday and moderate showers were reported from several parts later in the day. “Bengaluru receives heavy showers in August, September and October,” said a Met department official https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/bengaluru/most-karnataka-dams-full-2-months-early/articleshowprint/64913037.cms ************************************************************************************************************************************* July is the one to watch for…. The complexities of the monsoon, which runs the State and the country’s economy, depend not only on how much it rains, but also when it rains. Much of the success in filling reservoirs in the Cauvery basin depends on the rains in July. A failure here may lead to widespread distress even if the rainfall picks up later, shows the Karnataka Natural Disaster Monitoring Centre’s statistical analysis of the 44 years of data of inflows and rainfall at localised gauges. KSNDMC looked into the possible scenarios of monsoon failures in various months and their impact on storage capacities of the Cauvery reservoirs. Assuming normal rainfall in the upper catchment areas of Hassan, Chikkamagaluru and Kodagu districts in Karnataka and Wayanad district in Kerala, the average inflow during the monsoon to the river is 157 tmcft. For July failure, they narrowed down nine years where rainfall in July has been deficient, but the overall monsoon season had been normal. In seven out of nine cases, inflows into reservoirs were ultimately lower despite strong rainfall in other months that made up for weak rainfall in July. In 2017, for example, the State saw record rainfall in many places. In July, rainfall was 43% deficient, while the overall monsoon season was just 7% deficient (considered ‘normal’ monsoon), particularly as the rains picked up after August. However, the inflow was lower by more than 37 tmcft. Using statistical regression models, they estimated that for every 4mm reduction in rainfall in July in the upper catchment areas, nearly 1.1 tmcft of inflow reduces in the key reservoirs along the Cauvery. While this understanding may be just in the preliminary stages, G.S. Srinivasa Reddy, Director, KSNDMC, says it adds to the integrated approach into understanding Karnataka’s inflows and potential release to Tamil Nadu. “This is an important consideration on forecasting and to understand, in a holistic manner, how the monsoon will play out. Currently, the Supreme Court verdict dictates Karnataka should release a quantum of water monthly to Tamil Nadu. However, rainfall in each month is important, as well as where it rains,” he said. https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-karnataka/july-is-the-one-to-watch-for/article24368229.ece ************************************************************************************************************************************* Karnataka: Monsoon blues… Rainfall exceeding normal levels has caused mishaps in Coastal and Malnad regions, but in Raichur, there is a rain deficit so far Several parts of the state, especially Udupi, Chikkamgaluru and Kodagu, have been affected by heavy rains. In Katpady in Udupi, a family was forced to carry a stretcher with dead body while wading through knee-deep water. Sheshi Poojarthi (98), a resident of Kambalabetta, died on Saturday night and since the area has been flooded, her family members decided to carry the stretcher amidst water surrounding the house above knee level, by attaching tubes to it for about 500-600 mt, to cremate the body. Officials said they would have made arrangements if the family had informed them about the death. Meanwhile, in the wake of continuous and heavy rains, two teams of the National Disaster Response Force (NDRF) have been predeployed in Mangaluru and Udupi districts to assist district administration in rescue and relief in case of emergency. NDRF has set up VHF, HF and VSAT communication in Kaup of Udupi . In Mangaluru, Sushanth (20) son of Nagesh from Ambedkar Nagar, Vamanjoor, is feared drowned in the Phalguni river in Kavoor PS limits. A search operation is in progress. Pilgrims from Bengaluru had a lucky escape in Dharmasthala. A car was damaged after a tree fall on it near the KSRTC bus stand on Sunday morning. Resident from JP Nagar, Anil, and three others were travelling to Dharmasthala and the tree fell on the car around 5 am. In Kodagu, vehicular movement on the Titmati bridge has been affected after a landslide. Since the land slide was reported on an old bridge, vehicle movement was diverted to the new bridge. It is now learnt that the authorities were forced to prohibit movement on the new bridge temporarily because of the land slide. Landslide was also reported at about four places of Mullayanagiri in Chikkamagaluru. A few boulders have fallen on the road, making travel dangerous. Rivers across the State are reaching danger mark because of continuous rains. In view of the rains, Dakshina Kannada DC S Sasikanth Senthil has declared holiday to all schools and PU Colleges in the district on Monday. Only light rain in city Bengalureans, need not be worried till July 12 as the city is likely to receive only light rainfall. Dr Srinivas Reddy, Director, Karnataka State Natural Disaster Management Centre told Bangalore Mirror that coastal and Malnad regions will continue to receive moderate to heavy rainfall till July 12 and interior parts will receive scattered and moderate rainfall. Excess rainfall The state has received 19 per cent excess rainfall till July 6 in the current monsoon. According to statistics obtained from Karnataka State Natural Disaster Management Centre (KSNDMC), the state has received 452 mm rainfall as against the normal rainfall of 379 mm by July 6. The highs and lows Hassan has received 91 per cent more rainfall than is the normal by the end of June. Chikkamagaluru and Chitradurga districts have received an excess rainfall of 75 per cent and 65 per cent. Raichur district has received the lowest rainfall in the state with 100 mm rainfall as against the normal of 148 mm. https://bangaloremirror.indiatimes.com/news/state/karnataka-monsoon-blues/rain/articleshow/64909850.cms Most Karnataka dams full, 2 months early

Experts from the Karnataka State Natural Disaster Monitoring Centre(KSNDMC) said the reservoirs generally fill to the brim by August-end. This year,…

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atsvensson · 2 years

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Islands största fiskebåtar 2022

Island domineras av ett fåtal stora fiskeriföretag. Allra störst är Samherji som äger fiskebåtar i en lång rad länder. Samherji är också dominerande ägare i Síldarvinnslan hf, Utgerdarfelag Akureyringa ehf. Störst om bara fiskebåtar på Island räknas är dock Utgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur hf (Brim Seafood) som är huvudägare i Brim hf. Andra större fiskeriföretag med pelagiskt fiske är Isfelag…

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wendyandcharles · 7 years

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Tweeted

YourNewBooks: Brims with historical detail and intrigue. #HF #Restoration https://t.co/wHnUHxeuN2 cathro1 http://pic.twitter.com/uPGvvfFYom

— Wendy Siefken (@WendyandCharles) October 12, 2017

#IFTTT #Twitter

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atsvensson · 3 years

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Islands största pelagiska fiskeriföretag

Fiskeriföretagen på Island är större än i många andra nordiska länder. Bara Norge har företag i samma storlek som de största isländska. En stor del av fiskeriföretagen på Island fiskar både pelagiskt och demersalt. Det gäller bland annat Brim hf, Samherji hf, Vinnslustöðin hf med flera. Eskja hf och Runólfur Hallfreðsson ehf är specialiserade pelagiska fiskeriföretag. Samherji driver även…

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#Brim Hf #Eskja Hf #Gjögur Hf #Isfelag Vestmannaeyja hf #Loðnuvinnslan hf #Samherji Ísland ehf #Sildarvinnslan hf #Skinney-Þinganes hf #Vinnslustöðin Hf

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atsvensson · 4 years

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Islands största fiskebåtar 2020

Island domineras av ett fåtal stora fiskeriföretag. Allra störst är Samherji som äger fiskebåtar i en lång rad länder. Samherji är också dominerande ägare i Síldarvinnslan hf, Utgerdarfelag Akureyringa ehf och via Síldarvinnslan hf i Runólfur Hallfreðsson ehf. Störst om bara fiskebåtar på Island räknas är dock Utgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur hf som är huvudägare i Brim hf. Kännetecknande för Island är…

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atsvensson · 4 years

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Útgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur och Brim

Útgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur hf (UR) är ett isländskt fiskeriföretag som grundades 1988 som Tjaldur ehfav Kristjan Gudmundssson och hans två söner Hjalmar och Guðmundur Kristjánsson. Den sistnämnde är idag VD i bolaget. Huvudkontoret placerades redan från början i Reykjavik även om familjen var från en mindre ort. 1999 köptes ett räkfiskeföretag men denna verksamhet avvecklades redan 2003 på grund…

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#Arctic Prime Fisheries ApS #Brim Hf #Deris SA #Gudmundur Kristjansson #HB Grandi Hf #Útgerðarfélagi Reykjavíkur hf

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atsvensson · 5 years

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Islands största fiskeriföretag 2019

Det är svårt att få tag på omsättningssiffror för isländska företag. De som finns tillgängliga är ofta gamla. Ett undantag är börsnoterade HB Grandi hf som numera heter Brim hf sen det tidigare bolaget Brim hf köpte en kontrollerande aktiepost i företaget. Det gamla Brim hf heter numera Útgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur hf och ägs av Kristján Guðmundsson och hans söner Hjalmar och Guðmundur Kristjánsson.…

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#Brim Hf #Ekonomi #Eskja Hf #FISK seafood Hf #Gjögur Hf #Isfelag Vestmannaeyja hf #Rammi hf #Samherji hf #Sildarvinnslan hf #Skinney-Thinganes HF #Thorbjörn Hf #Útgerðarfélag Reykjavíkur hf #Vinnslustöðin Hf

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[HF] The Egyptian Merchant

I lived a simple life in the streets of Corinth. Every day, I would wake up as the sun began to rise, and begin to drink. When the wine ran out, and I grew bored, I sit alone and watch a few of the craftsmen. I noticed that the workers were working faster than usual. Their pots were misshapen, and the winemakers had spilled enough to make Hercules drunk. Strange circumstances often make people think about their own problems, and I was no exception At age 16, Apollo appeared to me in a dream. He told me stories about Thebes, a small polis under the tyranny of the Sphinx for years. He proclaimed that I would bring change to Thebes forever, but only if I were to wait for his sign. Predicting that I would know the signal when I saw it, he left me without another word. I decided to bide my time, as the god commanded. As I watched the sun rise above the pillars of the Acropolis, I felt that today would be different than the past 5 years. I was quickly thrown back to reality when I head a clay pot fall over.

An Egyptian had begun to stumble through the Agora, tipping over pots of unwatched grain and spilling wine onto the cobble. He was clearly drunk. Strangely enough, very few people cared. The man was wearing a Kalasiris with a red sash across his waist. I noted that this man had to be a merchant. Upon closer inspection, noticed that his clothes sagged on his shoulders. They were too large for a man of his size. Still, the red sash would not have been a cheap addition to a simple outfit. The man was wealthy, if not a little cheap.

“Hello, merchant” I called to the man with fabricated spirit “How are you doing today?”

“Ehm houtp” I heard him slur in reply as he began to stumble towards me. “Ish heeasrrd that Polihbish hesd planed a ah feeasdt”

“What?”

“Polihish!” He yelled.

The merchant took two more staggered steps and fell to the ground. It appeared as though the alcohol had defeated the man.

I checked to make sure the man was still alive. I found it strange that no one had come to help him aswell. I felt the man’s pulse under his neck and concluded he was still alive. I stood up, and began to walk back over to my usual spot under the pillar. Slowly, I came to a realization, the Agora was unusually empty. It was dawn, and the day’s trading and bartering should have started. Even the craftsmen I was watching earlier had begun to drop their tools and leave the agora. I saw a few of them rush past me. My eyes widened as I came to a conclusion. It was the day of the birth of Polybus, and his annual feast. The merchant had not come to Corinth to trade, he had come to feast with Polybus. I ran back over to the man, and got on my knees to inspect the man. His red sash wasn’t as simple as it had appeared to be from a distance. It was inscribed with the name “Bes,” and it depicted a large feast with dancing and drink. I began to feel excited as I pulled the sash off the man and tied it around my waist. It fit perfectly, and I began to rip off more and more of the merchant’s clothes. They all fit perfectly. It had appeared that Apollo had finally remembered his promise.

I made my way through the streets of Corinth in my new outfit. It was a Kalasiris, stolen from a drunk man. I felt a little guilty, but excitement suppressed most of it. Polybus’ annual feast had just started, and this outfit would allow me to sneak in. Apollo told me in a dream that my destiny would be to save Thebes from the Spinx. My mind began to wonder as I imagined the heroes and champions I would meet at this feast. As I got closer to the house, I began to notice how crowded the streets became. My walk towards the house became slower and slower. The crowded streets turned a 30-minute walk into a 3-hour journey, but not even that could calm my excitement. Eventually, I walked up to the house and entered Polybus’ courtyard. The courtyard looked like a battlefield. Large amounts of flora had been crushed by uncaring guests, and the fruit trees had been decimated. Even though it was only barely past mid-day, the feast was well underway. Servants brought small cups of reddish wine and plates with bread and dates to the many revelers. As I slowly walked through the barren fruit trees, I saw a man in a toga wave at me and begin to walk towards me.

As the man got closer, I was able to see more and more of him. The man had an olive complexion, dark enough to rival even an Illyrian farmer.

“Hello, Marair! I have not seen you all year,” cried out the man, increasing his pace. I tried to face away from the mysterious man, but I could not escape him. I was worried he would notice my stolen clothing, but it appeared that the man had already drunk too much to notice.

“Why, you are not Marair at all! Are you the nephew that he promised that he would bring with him?” he said as he walked closer to me. “Marair has said a lot about you” the man claimed. “ I have drunk too much, and have forgotten your name. Please, reveal it to me.” “Its Miltiacles.”

“You are even more greek than Marair said you would be. You even have a Greek name!” the man cried. “When Marair said that his brother had taken a liken to an Athenian, I did not know it was this much! You must make your Greek mother proud.”

There wasn’t anything I could say to the man. The nephew must have gotten drunk like his uncle. I prayed a silent prayer to the fates for making it even easy to sneak into the party.

“Ah, where are my manners? I am Oedipus, son of Polybus, and prince of Corinth,” he said as he waved down a servant. He snatched a cup of reddish wine and handed it to me.

I was astonished that a man of his stature would be willing to speak to me, much less give me a glass of wine. I slowly put the cup of wine up to my lips and took a small sip. A terrible, bitter taste filled my mouth.

“Excuse me, Oedipus, but I think your servant might be serving bad wine,” I sputtered.

“I was beginning to suspect that you were not related to Marair at all,” the man laughed. “You have a taste as keen as he does.”

He pointed me toward the grand doors inside of the house, and lead me inside. Within the house stood glorious arrays of pottery, each decorated with pictures of the gods and filled to the brim with grains and wine. He led me to the end of a large table, where he pulled out a seat and allowed me to sit.

“Even when drunk, Marair could tell the difference between the good and bad wine. Why should I suspect any less from you?”

I saw the man take out a small cask. The cask was plain, but marked with a small icon. It was not special enough to draw the eye of a drunk, but it zenough to easily be seen by someone who was looking for it.

“Gyptis, could you please fetch the big wine glasses?”

The servant went to “fetch” the 2 large cups, and within the minute she had returned. Oedipus opened the cask and poured some into his cup first, and then into mine. He raised the glass up, and with a smile began to drink. The wine was the reddest wine I had ever seen. Following his example, I slowly raised the cup to my lips and began to drink, careful not to spill any on my borrowed outfit. The wine was so pure, so rich, and sweeter than the finest honey in the land. After I finished my cup, I just had to have another, and another. I could hear Oedipus’ chuckle as I finished another glass. Before I could drink another cup, I saw a drunk, Illyrian man begin to approach Oedipus. Before I could warn Oedipus, the man called out to him.

Oedipus, why have you opened the good wine?” “Father, my friend here has not had the chance to try it yet. Marair’s nephew, Metiacles, arrived late.”

Oedipus’ father faced towards me.

“So your the nephew of Marair that I have been hearing so much about. Any friend of Marair is a friend of mine. I am Polybus, father of Oedipus.”

I stared at the man in disbelief. There was absolutely no way that this man is the father of Oedipus. Polybus’ Illyrian features contrasted with Oedipus’ darker complexion. The more I stared, the more I noticed how different the “father” and “son” were. Oedipus’ nose was too big, and their foreheads were different sizes. I began to laugh.

“You can’t be the son of Polybius, Oedipus,” I said with a drunken laugh.

Immediately, their attitudes changed, and before I could even have one more sip I was cast out of the house and sent back to the streets. I stumbled back to my place under the pillar, the realization hit me that I failed to fulfill my destiny. I could feel the alcohol running through me, making me wearier every second. Still, I made it back to the merchant and was able to return his clothes, before stumbling back to my pillar and passing out.

I woke up the next day as the sun began to rise. When the wine ran out, and I grew bored. I sat alone in my usual place to watch a few of the craftsmen. They were talking about the feast. Instead of talking about the food or the women, they talked about Oedipus. While I was asleep Oedipus decided to ride to the oracle in Delphi to ask about his parents. According to him, a drunk man claimed that he wasn’t Polybus’ son and that he went to the Oracle to confirm whether or not it was true. I thought nothing of it, and as the days turned into months, I forgot that Oedipus even existed. One day, months after the party, I head a messenger run through the Agora.

“Thebes has been freed from the Sphinx. Oedipus has saved the Thebans!”

Bit new to writing. How should I revise this?

I’m also posting on phone. Sorry about formatting

Edit: Fixed formatting

submitted by /u/Zednerfa [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2KlffSQ

#Blogger #Story

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[HF] The Chrononaut

June 28, 1914 Sarajevo, Bosnia

It was already uncomfortably humid as the early morning sun rose over the capital of Bosnia-Herzegovina. The city was wide awake—it had been since before dawn—its numerous cafes and coffee shops filled with village chit-chat between citizens starting off their day. Old men with long, white beards sat at the tables and bars, lit cigarettes, and gossiped. Some of the wealthier gentlemen wore fez caps with their jackets and wool trousers while members of the working class wore cotton shirts with rolled up sleeves. Later in the day they would switch from coffee to slivovitz, a strong plum brandy, even though it violated their strict religious practice of abstaining from alcohol.

The stranger did nothing to overtly advertise his presence. What was clear to those who did notice him was that he was obviously not a Serb, and that was all it took for him to stand out. He was extremely tall, quite near if not seven feet tall, and possessed markedly Anglo-Saxon features. His hair was a peculiar shade of red, punctuated by a stark white forelock. He was clothed in faded blue denim trousers, a denim shirt, and leather boots. He could have been any other laborer, but in a city as distinctly Serbian as Sarajevo, he stuck out like a tree stump in a flat field.

He was a foreigner, that was clear, and some speculated that he had come down to see the royals as they passed through the city. The arrival of the archduke had generated a considerable amount of intrigue throughout Europe. The Serbs of Bosnia-Herzegovina had lived under Austrian rule for generations, so a visit from the heir apparent to the Austro-Hungarian throne gave the citizenry very little stimulation. Indeed, most natives were indifferent to Ferdinand’s arrival.

As the morning wore on, the women began hanging their best house rugs out of their windows. It was a tradition equivalent to waving a flag. The working-class citizens had little money to spend on such frivolous things, but town pride dictated they put on a show for the archduke when he drove through the streets.

The stranger found a coffee shop on the Appel Quay and went inside. The room was filled with the second-hand smoke from dozens of cigarettes. The fog stung his eyes and choked his throat, but he managed to repress the reflex to cough. He walked up to the bar and, in halting Bosnian, began a conversation with the proprietor.

“Good morning,” he said. “I’d like to buy a cup of coffee, but I don’t have any of your country’s currency.”

“That’s a problem,” the proprietor said. “If you can’t pay, leave.”

“I can pay with gold,” the stranger replied. “Is that acceptable?”

The stranger reached into his pants’ pocket and produced two perfectly round gold coins, each about the size of a British sovereign. Sovereigns were common enough; however, these coins were faceless, lacking any identifying marks of any kind. The proprietor took one of the coins, observed that it was perfectly machined, thus confirming that it could only have been made in a mint, and bit the coin. The metal was soft, undeniably gold.

The proprietor smiled, well prepared to take advantage of the foreigner’s naiveté. “My friend, you can have as much coffee as you like.” He took the second coin, dropped them into a pocket in his apron, and placed a saucer and cup before his new favorite customer.

Conversation throughout the café had all but ground to a halt, but it resumed with vigor as soon as the little exchange between the café owner and the stranger concluded.

As the stranger enjoyed his cup of espresso, he fell into conversation with a group of locals who invited him to share their table. He identified himself as Mr. Brandon Wells, an American tourist who had heard of the Archduke’s planned visit to the city and had made a detour to Sarajevo to witness the procession. He spoke the language well, but with an absence of accent and local color that betrayed his formal linguistic training, and he spoke it haltingly, as one who had learned a language from a tutor.

Wells was a rare specimen. Visitors from surrounding Europe were common enough, and Sarajevo was considered very metropolitan, but Americans were almost mythical. Wells was very amicable, a trait that, it was said, Americans possessed in great quantity, but it became obvious that he was much in the dark about the political situation concerning the Serbs and the Dual Monarchy. Much of what the group had to say was derogatory and derisive. Then again, what politician or royal wasn’t ultimately despised by the public?

The information Wells gleaned from conversing with the locals was mostly filler anyway. He already knew all the pertinent information.

Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the throne of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, had been/would be shot and killed along with his pregnant wife Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, while driving down the Appel Quay. Ferdinand was already unpopular among ethnic Serbs because he represented the next generation of illegitimate rule, and was thus painted as a tyrant and oppressor. The Austro-Hungarian Empire had recently annexed Bosnia, a move that was technically illegal, but greater Europe was in no position to challenge the Dual Monarchy.

The Russians were allies with the Serbians. Germany was an ally of Austro-Hungary. Provoking one would incite war among them all, and so the nations of Europe did the only thing they could: nothing. Bosnia-Herzegovina was a powder keg with a short fuse, and everyone was keeping their distance.

A group of Serbian terrorists operating in Sarajevo called the Black Hand had failed to assassinate the Governor of Bosnia. Desperate to strike a blow, they were forced to select another target, and the archduke’s inspection tour of a military garrison outside the city was a golden opportunity too good to pass up. In many ways, Ferdinand was the victim of plain bad luck.

History is full of bad luck, Wells thought as he ordered another cup of coffee.

The Black Hand had connections in every walk of life and was part of a larger network with roots in the Serbian army. They had marked Ferdinand for death, and three young recruits—Gavrilo Princip, Trifko Grabez, and Nedeljko Cabrinovic—had been specially trained to execute the kill order.

Of the three assassins, there was only one Wells had to worry about, but neutralizing him would be easy. They were all teenagers and loyal Serbian patriots. They were also dying of tuberculous. Not one had a life expectancy greater than a year. Wells understood their idealism. They were a bunch of dying kids trying to go out in a blaze of glory. They had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Would he be able to pass up a chance like that?

Probably not, he thought. And he drank his coffee.

Princip, Cabrinovic and Grabez each had a pistol, and they were carrying grenades. Additionally, each man had been given a capsule of cyanide along with instructions to swallow the poison pill once Ferdinand was dead.

Wells checked his watch, which was set for local time. It was approaching ten o’clock. Ferdinand would be departing for City Hall soon.

The archduke had been observing military exercises outside the city and evaluating the condition of his troops. His wife, Sophie, had accompanied him on the trip. For reasons of nobility, Duchess Sophie was usually unable to appear with her husband in public except when he was acting in his capacity as Inspector of the Armed Forces. It was a rare thing for Franz to have his wife by his side without royal politics getting in the way, and he had taken advantage of the occasion to commemorate their fourteenth wedding anniversary.

If only he’d known Sophie would die with him…

Wells noticed a crowd had gathered outside the café. He thanked his new friends for their hospitality and left, blending into the meandering throng as they gathered along the sides of the Appel Quay.

The Appel Quay was a wide street that ran directly to City Hall, following the north bank of the River Miljacka. Interspersed among the citizenry were six assassins from the Black Hand. Three were the dying teenagers from Belgrade. Only one of them, just one, would set Europe on fire.

Wells heard the crowd further up the quay cheer as the archduke’s motorcade passed them. Checking his position, he guessed that he was somewhere in between the first two assassins, Muhammed Mehmedbasic and Vaso Cubrilovic. Neither would act to kill the archduke. In fact, he would survive the first real attack of the day, which was due to occur any moment. Even though Wells didn’t know what the assassins looked like, he didn’t have to. All he had to do was follow closely and be ready for his window.

The procession came into view. There were six cars coming up the street. The first car carried a number of local police detectives who were acting as security. Ferdinand disliked having secret service men around him on public occasions, and he had refused to let the army station troops along the street to control the crowd.

Big mistake, Wells thought. He’s an open target.

The second car was carrying the mayor and the chief of police. The third car carried the royal party. The 1910 Gräf & Stift Double Phaeton was little more than a metal buggy with wheels, but by the period’s standards it was a state of the art luxury touring car. Wells had to admit that it was a beautiful vintage automobile. The Phaeton had its top down and was cruising down the Appel Quay at a leisurely pace, the Habsburg Pennant flapping gently in the breeze. Wells was close enough that he could make out the royal couple.

Ferdinand wore a formal cavalry uniform. He had a long, sad face defined by a full mustache, wrinkles, and laugh lines. His wife sat beside him. Duchess Sophie had round, delicate features, and expression was stern, uptight. Wells could easily picture her as the school librarian in another life. She wore a white silk dress, a fur wrap and a wide-brimmed sun hat that shaded her face. Little kids waved flags as the cars passed by. Others threw flower petals into the street.

Any moment now, Wells thought, mentally bracing himself.

His keen eyes scanned the surrounding thoroughfare until they settled on a slight man with dark hair and a thin mustache. His hand was tucked inside his coat pocket, grasping something bulky and round. Wells watched as the man took out the small grenade and hit the igniter cap against a lamppost. He was close to the street and within range of Ferdinand’s car. It was Nedeljko Cabrinovic, one of the three dying teens. He was the third Black Hand assassin Ferdinand had passed so far but the first with the guts to act.

Cabrinovic hurled the grenade into the air toward the passing Phaeton. Ferdinand saw the explosive and ordered the driver to speed up. He tucked his wife under his arm and pushed her down into the seat, shielding her with his body. The car picked up speed and the grenade bounced off the back and rolled into the street. The next few seconds were filled with screams of panic as the people, moving with the herd instinct of wild animals, tried to get away from the impending explosion.

The car following the royal party passed over the bomb just as it exploded.

The concussion of the blast echoed off the nearby buildings as the front end of the automobile disintegrated in a fiery halo. Hot shrapnel and asphalt sliced into tender human flesh. The sound of the explosion dissolved into screams and moans of pain. Over a dozen people had been seriously injured, but no one was killed.

Wells watched as the royal party sped towards City Hall at top speed. He knew there were more assassins along the street stationed as far as the Kaiser Bridge, nearly half a mile away. None of them would act. Cabrinovic, in his enthusiastic haste, had botched the assassination for his comrades. Ferdinand and Sophie would be safe for the time being.

Wells spotted a small boy stumbling towards him. His eyes were unfixed and glazed, zombie-like. The boy’s right hand was bloodied and mangled. Two of his fingers were missing.

He must’ve been too close to the curb when the grenade went off and got caught by a piece of shrapnel, Wells thought. He stopped the boy and tried to ascertain where his parents were. He could get nothing out of the little boy but vague, indiscernible mumbles.

Pale lips, accelerated shallow breathing, clammy skin. Shock, Wells thought. I’ve got to get him to a hospital before his heart stops.

Grasping his own shirtsleeve, Wells ripped it from the seam and tied a hasty bandage around the boy’s mangled fingers. Spotting two horse-drawn ambulance carts coming up the quay, Wells scooped up the boy and flagged down one of the carts. A man wearing a fez and carrying a doctor’s bag jumped down and examined the child.

“I know this boy,” the doctor said. His eyes seemed ready to overflow with tears. “Little Branko. Oh, look what they’ve done to you!”

“Can you find his parents?” Wells asked.

The doctor nodded. “I’ll see he gets back to his parents,” the doctor said.

Leaving the boy behind, Wells discarded his ruined denim shirt, leaving him in a plain white crew neck. He made his up the Appel Quay until he came across a mob of people surrounding the crumpled form of a man. Cabrinovic, the one who’d tossed the grenade, was soaking wet from where he had tried to drown himself in the River Miljacka after swallowing his suicide pill. Unfortunately for him, the river was just a few inches deep, and the cyanide only made him puke his guts out.

The police were letting the crowd have a go at him before they made an official arrest. Wells watched with a certain amount of satisfaction as the would-be assassin was kicked and beaten senseless. He spared one last thought for the boy, Little Branko the doctor had called him, then continued west toward City Hall.

It was a large, triangular building of Moorish architecture. Its colorful mosaics, high arches, and spires made it look like a cross between an old fortress and a modern art museum. The Archduke and his wife had arrived safely, just as predicted. So far, Wells’ presence hadn’t caused a significant divergence. That was good. His target needed to be where the history books said he was going to be for his plan to work. Wells stood just outside the building’s entrance and listened the Mayor’s speech until the convoy was dismissed.

Finally, it was time to get into position.

The royal party would attend a reception then Ferdinand would drive to the hospital to visit those injured in the attack, changing his original plans to visit the city’s museum. A wrong turn and some more bad luck would place Archduke Ferdinand and Duchess Sophie at the mercy of yet another assassin.

Wells retraced his steps until he came to an intersection where the Appel Quay met Franz Joseph Street. At the corner was a small deli owned by a man named Schiller. There he waited almost an hour before he saw his target. He was a young man, lanky and pitiful looking. The tuberculosis had a lot to do with his sorry state. He had a sunken face with a thin mustache and purplish bags under his eyes. Dressed in a black coat with wool trousers, he was indistinguishable yet destined for infamy. His name was Gavrilo Princip, the assassin of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, and the ultimate precipitator of the First World War.

Wells watched as Princip entered Schiller’s deli then he crossed the street and stood just outside the doorway. A few minutes passed, and he heard the uneven putter of a gasoline engine coming down the Appel Quay. Wells steeled himself. Precise timing was critical.

Princip walked out of the store carrying a wrapped sandwich in his hand. Wells stopped him. “Is your name Princip?” he asked.

The young Bosnian Serb narrowed his eyes, looking Wells up and down. “I do not know you,” he said. “What do you want?”

Wells hit him with the Taser. Princip’s body seized uncontrollably as 50,000 volts of electricity coursed through him. Wells released the trigger on the Taser and Princip collapsed, unconscious. Acting quickly, Wells hauled Princip’s body into a narrow alleyway, disarming him of his pistol and his grenade. Wells pocketed the gun as a souvenir, the grenade he tossed down a sewer drain.

Wells emerged from the adjoining alley as the Phaeton rounded the corner and came to a halt just five feet from the door to Schiller’s deli. The driver had not been told about Ferdinand’s wish to visit the hospital and so had turned onto Franz Joseph Street to get to the museum.

General Potoirek, who had joined Ferdinand and Duchess Sophie, berated the driver. “What is this?” he asked. “We were supposed to stay on the Appel Quay. Take us to the hospital.”

Wells heard the gears grind as the driver quickly put the car in reverse and backed out onto the correct street. Smiling to himself as they drove away, Wells set off for the northern edge of town where the Ergosphere awaited to return him to the future.

The chrononaut was eager to see the results of his experiment.

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