#switch electronic signals

[abrt2deris]

Transistor switch, Schottky diode voltage drop, Reverse Voltage Schottky

BAT54W Series 30 V 600 mA Surface Mount Schottky Barrier Diode - SOT-323

[brinaarcadia]

DESTROY THE SIGNAL RELAYS

[jsn2aham]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--discretes--transistors--mosfets/bsz160n10ns3gatma1-infineon-8060177

Mosfet transistor, power supply, power mosfet module, small signal mosfet

Single N-Channel 100 V 16 mOhm 19 nC OptiMOS™ Power Mosfet - TSDSON-8

[arsnof]

Ghosts that should exist soon if not already

Notifications/typing noises in otherwise empty spaces

People waving you over from the side of the road and asking if you're their Lyft. Disappear the moment you look away

Abandoned warehouses that sometimes reverberate with an unheard bass

'Cold spots' where you can't get signal (that cannot be otherwise explained)

That dispensary with the blacked out windows? It used to be a Blockbuster until the manager got shot. If it's the right kind of night and you look real close and cup your hands to block out all the light? You can watch it happen, but they might see you

Newsletters from startups that no longer exist

Hype House haunted by the reason they had to make an apology video

Pictures of a stranger in your camera roll

At 2:30 every morning you can hear a ringing bell coming from the elementary school. Thing is, they switched to a digital tone in 2013. Also, it cannot be captured electronically

Welcome to Denny's what can I start you on? You already ordered? Wait.. Tall, pink hair? *sigh* Been dead for a mtonth and she's still stealing tips

[vnns2usser]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--discretes--transistors--mosfets/irfp4368pbf-infineon-9093816

Transistors, Mosfets, IRFP4368PBF, Infineon

Single N-Channel 75 V 1.85 mOhm 570 nC HEXFET® Power Mosfet - TO-247AC

[orellazalonia]

Unexpected Outlook

Summary: The Avengers launch a mission to raid a known base of the organization you now work with and discuss over what they found.

Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: A little shorter since it’s Father’s Day, but I also wanted to add more weight to the previous chapter and progress the story.

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

Preparations moved fast. Too fast, maybe.

Steve didn’t like that they were running with incomplete information, but the longer they waited, the deeper this organization could dig itself into global systems. And the more time you had to assist them, whether willingly or not.

Still, it didn’t sit right. None of it did.

Bruce pulled the files. Natasha studied known locations. Sam monitored chatter. Bucky cleaned his weapons with a look in his eyes like he wanted answers he didn’t have the right to ask.

Yet no one brought up your name again. At least, not directly. But it hovered beneath everything.

The way Bucky checked each plan twice. The way Natasha’s jaw twitched when she reviewed footage. Even the way Steve hesitated before calling it an official mission.

The woman Bucky liked didn’t voice objections anymore. She simply kept a kind, quiet distance, like someone watching friends argue over a lost cause.

And within a week, the op was set.

Steve gave the greenlight with his jaw tight and eyes harder than usual. The mission was clear: infiltrate a suspected communications hub. A nondescript, rural compound masked as a grain storage facility. Satellite data showed encrypted signals routing through it over the last month, signals that matched ones the Avengers used internally.

Which meant either someone was watching. Or someone had been taught how.

They went in with a small team. Just Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky. No need for Hulk or Thor; this wasn’t a battering ram job. It was a retrieval and disrupt operation. Quiet and clean.

Or so they thought.

The quinjet landed half a mile out, under cover of dense fog rolling over the hills. The forest beyond the compound was eerily still like it had been holding its breath since before dawn.

“They want us to find this,” Natasha muttered, brushing a branch aside as they crept through the trees.

Steve didn’t argue. His shield was strapped to his arm, but he hadn’t raised it once.

They reached the clearing. The compound was just as expected. Gray concrete, flat roof, minimal security fencing, and a gravel path leading to two entrances. No guards. No movement. Even the air felt… hollow.

Sam scanned the building with a handheld sensor. “No heat signatures. Not even a rat.”

“Too clean,” Bucky said, voice low.

They breached the back door.

Inside, it was dark but not ruined. Every surface was wiped. Consoles powered down. Not destroyed, removed. Carefully like a move-out rather than an attack. Upon investigating further, files had been cleared, drawers emptied, and chairs pushed in with bland desks.

Whoever had been here knew exactly when to leave.

Steve turned in a slow circle, taking it in.

“This was active,” He said. “Days ago.”

“Hours, maybe,” Natasha said, crouching beside a desk. She tapped the edge, there was a faint spot where something electronic had been sitting. Someone had worked here… and then vanished.

Sam stepped into the central control room. There was only one thing left behind: a monitor left switched on, flickering a soft blue light in the dimness.

A single message scrolled across the screen.

Too late, Captain.

That was it. There wasn’t any long monologues. No other mocking comments. Not even a signature or sign-off present. Just a cold fact. Steve stared at it like he could will it to change. Bucky stood a step behind him, arms folded, expression unreadable.

“I don’t like this,” Sam muttered.

Natasha approached a wall panel and pried it open effortlessly. Inside, wires had been sliced. Intentionally. However, there were no explosives. No traps could be seen anywhere either. It was all just… closure.

“They stripped this place surgically,” She said. “No fingerprints, no traces. It’s like they wanted us to know they were here… but not who they are.”

Steve closed the monitor with a clenched jaw. “This wasn’t a base. It was a decoy.”

“No,” Bucky said suddenly. His voice was soft but steady. “It was a base. It just outlived its usefulness.”

They all turned toward him. He looked at the empty room, the missing equipment, and the quiet hallways. Then, to the message. And for a moment, something shifted in his eyes. Guilt, maybe or something deeper.

“They planned for this,” He murmured. “Someone told them exactly how we’d come.”

No one responded, but no one needed to. Because they were all thinking it.

-

The debrief room was thick with a heavy silence, the kind that pressed down harder than shouting. Ghost-blue blueprints and photos of the abandoned compound still flickered on the monitors, reminders of how quickly their plan had unraveled. Notes about the missing equipment and the chilling message on the screen scrolled slowly, marking everything they should have anticipated.

Steve hadn’t sat once since they returned. He stood rigid at the head of the table, hands braced on his hips, and a deep furrow like it was etched there permanently. Sam had stopped pacing but his leg bounced nervously, jaw clenched tight. Natasha’s fingers tapped against her thigh in a rhythm so steady it barely seemed voluntary.

Only Bucky remained perfectly still, arms crossed, and eyes locked on the screen across the room. He said very little since they’d left the empty compound since that message haunted him.

Too late, Captain.

The words weren’t just text; they carried a weight, a deliberate coldness that dug into Bucky’s mind. Whoever had left it knew him. Not just the soldier, but his moves, his instincts. And worse, their enemy had used the knowledge you once held to outmaneuver them.

The memory played on loop in his mind. Not just the words but the feel of them. The calculation in them. Whoever was behind that terminal… knew him. Not just facts. His patterns.

And maybe worse than that, they’d used your knowledge to do it. They probably used you to do it.

The door hissed open.

She stepped in with her usual soft elegance, cradling a fresh cup of tea between her hands like she had no idea anything had gone wrong. Dressed casual, warm, and comfortable. Like she belonged. Like she didn’t feel the same tension that pulled everyone else taut. The one you used to be jealous of had sat out for the mission after all.

“Oh,” She said lightly. “You’re all back already.”

Her tone wasn’t mocking. If anything, it was gently surprised, as if she’d simply walked into a meeting that ended early. Steve didn’t answer right away. Neither did the others.

She blinked, smile sweet and expectant, like someone unaware they were intruding. “Was it a short mission?”

“We were too late,” Steve said flatly, straightening.

Her brows lifted, and she crossed to the table, setting the tea down. “Really? That’s unfortunate. I thought it was just one of those cleanup things. You all make those look so easy.”

Sam looked over, jaw tight. “They cleaned up, alright. Took every last trace of themselves. Left us a polite message, too.”

“They knew how we’d approach,” Natasha added with her arms crossed now. “Like they knew our pattern. Our flow. They stripped the place within hours of our arrival window.”

“Hmm.” She tapped a fingernail against the ceramic. “That’s strange. Maybe they had inside intel?”

“No,” Steve spoke, narrowing his eyes. “Not unless someone studied us long before they left.”

“Oh.” She blinked, tilting her head. “So… do you think your old administrator friend told them?”

Bucky stiffened.

Natasha’s voice was sharper now, eyes narrowing. “She’s not our anything.”

That seemed to amuse her. She let out a light laugh, the kind meant to dissolve tension, not that anyone was asking for it. “Well, you’re not wrong,” She smiled. “ She didn’t really fit in here anyways, did she?”

Bruce, who had been mostly quiet, looked up sharply. “She worked here for over two years.”

She didn’t seem phased. There was no malice on her face actually. Just soft confidence.

“I guess I didn’t think she’d be important,” She sighed simply. “Kind of kept to herself. I always assumed she’d move on.”

Sam stood, voice tight. “She did. Straight into the hands of the people trying to tear us apart.”

Her smile faltered just a touch. “I didn’t mean—look, I’m sure she was… sweet. I just don’t see how it helps to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want to be here. Don’t you think she made her choice?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t know that yet.”

“I mean, sure,” She said gently, “But if she’s really that dangerous, wouldn’t you have noticed before she left? You didn’t even realize she was gone until weeks later, right?”

Bucky shifted slightly. The burn in his chest deepened. Not from her words exactly, but from how true they rang.

They hadn’t noticed. They hadn’t looked.

The woman moved closer to Bucky, noticing his subtle distress as she rested her hand lightly on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I just worry about you,” She confessed softly, smiling up at him. “You’re all stretched so thin already. I’d hate to see you waste energy chasing ghosts.”

Her hand lingered. But Bucky’s jaw clenched, and for once, he didn’t lean into her touch.

“She’s not a ghost,” He muttered. “She’s a mirror. Of everything we missed.”

Her expression flickered for barely a moment. Then the sweet smile returned.

“Well, if you have to go after her,” She brushed her hand away, her expression turning more solemn. A hint of pity evident, “I hope you’re prepared for what you find. Sometimes people change… and not always in ways you can fix. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

She reached for her tea again, her fingers wrapping around the cup like it was an anchor.

“And if you do decide to keep going after her, well.” She gave a gentle little laugh, looking around with open, innocent eyes. “I hope it goes well. I really mean that. And if you need my help at all… just let me know. I’m always happy to support the team.”

The door hissed softly behind her as she walked out, quiet heels tapping against the floor in steady, graceful rhythm.

The rest of the team stood in silence for a few long seconds, each lost in their own storm of thoughts.

Steve broke it first.

“We move forward. We stop that organization before it spreads deeper.”

“And if she’s helping them willingly?” Sam asked, his voice low.

Steve hesitated.

So, Bucky answered instead.

“Then we stop her, too.”

Taglist: @herejustforbuckybarnes @iyskgd @torntaltos @julesandgems @maesmayhem @w-h0re @pookalicious-hq @parkerslivia @whisperingwillowxox @stell404 @wingstoyourdreams @seventeen-x @mahimagi @viktor-enjoyer @vicmc624 @msbyjackal @winchestert101 @greatenthusiasttidalwave

[see-arcane]

Do you think a Dracula adaptation set in the modern day could work?

It'd need some logistical tweaking. Lots of updating in the tech department.

Considering the speed at which transactions and travel happen and how the surveillance state has expanded, there'd need to be some major tweaks in how Dracula and the Drac Attack Pack operate through their respective roles.

There'd definitely be good scare potential in discovering Dracula is literally impossible to capture by camera or voice recording; a fact that might be hinted at early on when this esteemed client refuses/is unable to do anything so simple as phone or video call with Hawkins. Everything is down to text and human go-betweens to get around the technological barrier. Jonathan could have a heart-stopping moment when

Trying to sneakily record via phone leads to Dracula never appearing and his voice being static -> Jonathan has to keep things on paper, old school

He wakes up one day to find all of his tech missing alongside the traveling paraphernalia. Not enough that the weather/castle aura keeps blocking any signal. Everything is just gone.

Bonus points if it's Jonathan's smartphone that gets the shaving mirror treatment, and young Mr. Harker has to watch his employer-captor hurl his actual phone out the window where it shatters into meaningless plastic on the stone.

Fun times.

It'd also be interesting to stretch Stoker's original 'vampires can't be depicted' idea and expand that to the gang literally being incapable of using electronics to type out or record anything about Dracula. Some magic interference keeps either glitching things out, or worse, turning the computers into dead bricks. They have to resort to paper and analog recording.

Other bells and whistles would need to be addressed, other character dynamics switched up for the 21st century, but I think it could be done

[stevebattle]

The Creep – A fascinating robot vehicle by T.R. Bridge, in Radio Control Models & Electronics (1962). "The "Creep" is a three-wheeled vehicle with one drive wheel, one free running and one steering through 360°. This obviates the necessity for limit switches or over-run devices and makes it very manoeuvrable, full lock takes about three seconds. … The chassis is fitted with a pair of claws that can grip and lift objects. The arrangement of the claws can be seen from the drawings, only one servo is used for closing-opening-lifting and lowering: the arrangement of the grip levers is such that they are first drawn together, then when this movement is arrested by the object being handled, the jib rises automatically. Another advantage of the system is that heavy objects are gripped more than light ones. … One of the most interesting things from the public point of view is the facility to record a programme and then send the "Creep" through the programme without manual control. The system is to record the tones on a tape recorder, direct from a signals receiver monitor, and then play the tones from the tape recorder back into the modified Black Prince transmitter." The Creep, RCM&E, April 1962.

[darth-mortem]

The fourth part of demon!Ghost AU. 141 sets off on a mission, but at the most crucial moment, they encounter an unexpected problem.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Action, explosion, sabotage, cats. 3219 words.

“I don't like deserts.” Ghost suddenly broke the silence.

He and Soap were in position next to the enemy base, ready to infiltrate and carry out a diversion on the orders of Captain Price, who was watching everything through the scope of his sniper rifle. Gaz and Roach had already infiltrated and were now trying to reach headquarters unnoticed to obtain the necessary information.

“Why?” Soap asked, turning off his radio microphone.

Ghost didn't have a radio, so they had to stay together. Colonel Albright said that the demon couldn't use any device with electronics, but MacTavish was almost certain that in this case it wasn't a matter of inability but of his unwillingness to learn. After all, it wasn't a computer or even a phone; walkie-talkies were easy to use, especially if you didn't have to switch channels. However, Soap was fine with working in tandem with Ghost, so he kept his assumptions to himself.

You can keep reading here or on the Ao3

“Albright and his people found me in the desert.” The lieutenant said thoughtfully. ”I don't know which one, but I remember that when I came to, there was sand all around me. I think that's the same desert where I died.”

Ghost's voice was emotionless as always, but Soap's heart sank when he heard those words. He wanted to hug the lieutenant, pull him close, and comfort him, even though he didn't really feel sad. Maybe he would have done so, but at that moment, Price's voice came through his radio headset.

“Bravo 7-1, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Bravo 6.” Soap replied, turning on his microphone.

“Bravo 6-2, Bravo 7-2?” The captain continued the roll call.

“Loud and clear, too.” Roach replied for both of them. “Bravo 6-2 downloading information, I'm on guard.”

“Copy that.” Price said. “Bravo 7-1, you and Bravo 0-7 start moving closer to your infiltration point.”

“Rog.” Soap replied briefly, looked at Ghost, and nodded, signaling that it was time to move.

After waiting for the bright beam of the searchlight to pass over the open area in front of the chain-link fence, the lieutenant and the sergeant made their first dash from their cover to a small pile of rocks, behind which they lay down. So far, so good, but Soap had doubts about the next dash: they wouldn't make it to the fence in time, and they probably wouldn't be able to hide from the spotlight on the open ground because Ghost was wearing his black gear, even though he had desert gear.

These fears, however, proved to be unfounded. During the next dash, Ghost managed to reach the fence, which was in the dead zone of the searchlights, while Soap fell to the sand, covering himself with a sand-colored cloak. The lieutenant waited for him, but while the sergeant was getting a bolt cutter with insulated handles, he calmly grabbed the fence. Of course, it was energized, but the electric shocks did not harm the demon, and he easily tore through the mesh as if it were paper rather than 0.16-inch-diameter wire. Ghost held the edges so that Soap could slip through safely and then squeezed through himself. They made their way behind the rear wall of a large building where patrols were rare, so there was a chance that no one would notice the breach until it no longer mattered.

“Bravo 6, how copy? Bravo 0-7 and Bravo 7-1 are in.” Soap reported.

“Copy that.” Price replied. “Move to the diversion zone. Wait for the signal from Bravo 6-2 and 7-2.”

“Rog.” Soap said briefly and waved to Ghost, ordering him to follow.

Gaz watched intently as the download progress bar neared completion. Roach stood at the entrance with his weapon at the ready. He could already hear voices and footsteps behind the door, but there was still a chance that the enemies would pass by or be unarmed, feeling safe in this isolated base far from civilization. Once inside the headquarters, Gary locked the door, so if they heard the lock being picked and if Soap and Ghost managed to reach the diversion zone in time, it might still be possible to avoid a fight here and get the information out unnoticed.

“Well, what's going on?” Roach whispered, glancing at his comrade.

“Ninety-five percent.” Gaz replied just as quietly. ”Oh, ninety-six now.”

Footsteps and voices drew closer and then began to recede. Sanderson exhaled, realizing that they had gotten away this time.

Soap and Ghost used their knives to take out three armed enemies and hid behind the back of an old military truck. The diversion zone was a large fuel tank, which MacTavish would blow up as soon as he got the signal from Gaz and Roach. To do this, he and his partner had to hurry to prepare everything in advance. But as darkness fell, the area around the tank was illuminated by the bright light of two searchlights on the roofs of buildings.

“Damn, I wish one of those lights would go out right now.” Soap whispered, more to himself than to Ghost.

The lieutenant looked at him intently and then held his open palm toward the spotlight. MacTavish stared at him and saw him slowly clench his fingers, and at some point there was a crackling sound, then the light went out and shards of glass rained down to the ground.

“Why didn't you say you could do that?” Soap asked cheerfully, nudging Ghost in the shoulder with his fist.

“You didn't ask.” The lieutenant shrugged and looked at the tanker. “I'll go first. Then I'll cover you.”

Surprised and confused by the sudden failure of the spotlight, almost all of the enemies looked up, glanced at each other, and whispered, and no one noticed the two swift shadows that flashed across the now unlit space and darted behind the fuel tank. Ghost stayed behind to keep watch, while Soap hurriedly took off his backpack and began to take out and install the C4, sticking it to the rounded, metal side that had been heated by the sun.

Gaz pulled out the flash drive with a sharp movement and showed Roach his thumb up. Sanderson nodded, listened to the sounds behind the door, and pressed the button on his radio.

“Bravo 7-2 to all, we're done. Ready to go. Do you copy?” He said quietly.

“I need a few more minutes, Bravo 7-2.” Soap replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

He had already set the C4, but it turned out that the detonators were not responding to the signal. This was absolutely impossible, because he had carefully checked everything before the mission, but yet it had happened, and now the sergeant was trying to fix the problem quickly.

“We don't have a few minutes.” Roach reported and stepped back from the door, because this time the footsteps stopped right in front of them.

“Break through to the exit of the building.” Price intervened. ”I can cover you for a while there. Bravo 7-2, I hope you can finish before it gets too hot in here without an explosion.”

“Aye, sir!” Soap snapped, puffing himself up with concentration.

As soon as the doors to the main headquarters opened, Gaz and Roach, who had been hiding on either side of them, let the enemies in and quickly dealt with them with their knives and bare hands. That was the end of their luck, because there were more than two people, and while one opened fire, forcing the intruders to hide again, the second ran down the corridor, raising the alarm. Price saw from his position that things were going badly and joined the fight, shooting several enemies from the group running toward the building where Harrick and Sanderson were still trapped.

“Bravo 7-1!” The captain called tensely.

“I'm working on it!” Soap replied.

“Johnny.” Ghost put his hand on his shoulder. ”There's no time. Run and meet Gaz and Roach. I'll set off the explosion. Meet me outside the perimeter at the exit point.”

Soap couldn't imagine what the lieutenant could do with the detonators if he, a demolition expert, couldn't do anything. But there was no time for questions, so MacTavish, trusting Ghost again, nodded, grabbed his assault rifle, and ran toward the headquarters building, staying in the shadows.

Through his scope, Price saw that the lieutenant was alone now. After escorting Soap and shooting a couple of enemies who had almost exposed him, he looked back at Ghost and saw that something had changed. Now the lieutenant was standing at full height, his hand resting on the side of the fuel tank. It wasn't visible through the scope, but he took off his glove and touched the metal with his bare hand. With a sense of foreboding, Price switched to thermal vision and saw that the demon's palm was bright white, and the dark mass of the tank around it was rapidly turning red, while the area near Ghost's hand was already turning yellow.

“Lads.” The captain said into the radio. ”You'd better hurry up.”

Soap broke into the headquarters building and went to meet Gaz and Roach. He managed to take advantage of the element of surprise, and, finding themselves together, the three sergeants were able to leave the building and come under the protection of their captain.

“Where's Ghost?” Gaz asked.

“He's covering us.” Soap replied, peeking out from behind the building for a second.

“No, no, lads, stay where you are!” Price quickly ordered, switching back to thermal vision mode and seeing that the fuel tank was now glowing bright white.

MacTavish barely had time to take cover when the ground shook from a deafening explosion. Roach, who was pressing his back against the wall, clearly felt the building shake, and then glass from the windows, blown out by the blast wave, rained down on the three sergeants.

Price saw the tank burst from the heat and pressure, and burning fuel spilled out in all directions, engulfing everything in its path. The air was filled with the agonizing screams of people burning alive, and in the midst of it all, walking slowly through the sea of fire, was Ghost. He spread his arms wide, and streams of white smoke flowed toward him from all sides, souls he absorbed, becoming even more powerful.

The three sergeants realized that this was their chance. The enemies had forgotten about the saboteurs, and the base was in complete chaos. Soap, Gaz, and Roach crouched down and quickly ran to the exit point before the stream of burning fuel blocked their way.

In fact, there was no exit point anymore, because the blast wave had blown away the entire fence on that side. Soap headed for the place where he and Ghost were waiting for the order to begin the mission, and three sergeants, breathing heavily, still stunned by the force of the explosion, fell behind large rocks, hiding from enemy eyes.

“Wait for Bravo 0-7.” Ordered Price, who, after making sure his men had reached safety, turned his gaze to the demon. “He's coming to you.”

Ghost appeared a few minutes later. His gear and mask were covered in soot, and two red embers glowed unnaturally from the shadows of his hood, where his eyes were usually impenetrably black.

“Johnny.” He growled rather than spoke in a voice that was completely inhuman. ”Did I do well?”

“Aye.” Soap replied hoarsely, then cleared his throat, took a step forward, and slapped Ghost on the shoulder. “You did a great job. Well done.”

“All right, lads.” Price interrupted. ”Head to the exfil point. I'll meet you there. Soap?”

“Aye?”

“Tell Ghost from me he did great.” The captain said, then spat into the sand, quickly gathered his gear, and switched channels to call for a pilot.

Despite the success of the mission, the helicopter was filled with tension. Gas and Roach sat next to Price, while the captain himself looked gloomily at Ghost and then at Soap, who had remained loyal to him and sat next to the terrifying demon, whose eyes were still glowing slightly. Only when the silence became completely unbearable did Price break it.

“What happened, Soap?” He asked sternly.

“I don't know, Cap.” The sergeant admitted it honestly, lowering his eyes. “I swear, I checked all the equipment before the mission, like I always do! But when I started setting C4, the detonators were faulty.”

“Sir.” Gaz interrupted. “I don't believe Soap could have missed that. One detonator, maybe, but all of them...”

“I don't believe it either.” Price agreed, looking even grimmer. “When did you check the equipment, John?”

“In the evening, when I got everything I needed from the armory.” MacTavish replied, nervously clenching his fists.

All five exchanged glances. The equipment they had gathered and prepared the night before had been placed in the briefing room, and in the morning, before the sortie, they grabbed their bags and backpacks and hurried to the helicopter. Of course, they locked the entrance to the building and the door to the room itself for the night, but the locks in their block were, to put it mildly, not very reliable, because everything had been done in a hurry to get ready before the unit arrived. And it wasn't necessary to pick the locks if you had a key.

“So, there's a mole at this base.” Roach said, expressing the general opinion.

“We can't say that yet.” Price shook his head. “Ghost, what do you think? Did you hear anything with your demonic hearing the night before the mission?”

“Negative.” The lieutenant replied. “But I wasn't in my room that night.”

“What the hell?” Price frowned. ”Where were you? If anyone saw you...”

“No one could see me when I didn't want them to.” Ghost replied and then placed his hand on Soap's knee, which he was unconsciously jerking up and down.

All eyes involuntarily turned to this gesture. MacTavish blushed and looked away.

“All right, lads.” Price broke the silence again and rubbed his temples wearily. ”So far, these are just suspicions, but stay alert. And Lieutenant, from now on, before missions, when our equipment is ready and in the block, you too must be in the block and make sure no one gets in.”

“Roger.” Ghost replied calmly. “If I catch the intruder, can I kill him?”

“Negative.” Price shook his head. ”If he exists, we need to find out his objectives. It could be us personally or national security as a whole.”

That ended the discussion. The tired soldiers drifted off to nap, and only Soap slept soundly, resting his head comfortably on Ghost's shoulder. When he started to slide off, the lieutenant hugged him, holding him for the rest of the flight. Of course, that wasn't the end of it, and 141 transferred to a plane and then back to another helicopter.

The members of 141 didn't tell anyone about the problem with the detonators, and Price didn't mention it in his report either. Everyone tried to spot even the slightest hint of surprise on the faces of the local soldiers, which might indicate that he or she did not expect the unit to return, but it was all in vain. Everyone, from General Strickland down to the privates, behaved completely naturally.

A couple of days after their return, late in the evening, Soap knocked on Price's door with a mysterious look on his face and asked him to come with him. The captain reluctantly put on his jacket, and the sergeant led him behind their block to the smoking area but stopped at the corner and asked him to peek out quietly. Price, who had no desire to play any strange games, nevertheless complied with MacTavish's request and saw Ghost sitting on the boxes. And he wasn't alone. Cats were sitting and lying on the demon's knees, hands, shoulders, and even on his head, purring so loudly that Price could hear them even from where he stood.

There were about a dozen cats at the base. They used to live on farms nearby, but then the Department of Defense bought the land so that farmers would not accidentally or intentionally breach the facility's secrecy. When they left their homes, people left behind not only their belongings but also some of their animals. Some of them were torn apart by wild animals living in the forest, but the cats managed to reach the base, sneak in, and feel quite at home there, even producing offspring. The general was not thrilled about this, but the animals hunted mice and other small pests that came from the forest, so he allowed them to stay after arranging for them to be sterilized so that the cats would not breed even more.

After watching the bizarre scene for a few minutes, Price hid behind the corner again and looked gloomily at Soap with a questioning look in his eyes.

“The cats love him!” Whispered MacTavish, remembering Ghost's extremely keen hearing. ”So he's actually a good guy!”

“Lad.” Price whispered back. ”Cats are just as much a product of hell as he is. So that doesn't prove a damn thing. Now I'm going to bed, and I hope you are too.”

With a wave of his hand, the captain headed back into the building. Soap watched him go, then sighed and headed for the smoking area.

“Hey, Lt.!” he called cheerfully as he approached. ”Is there a place for me?”

Ghost carefully moved the cat that was lying near, and Soap sat down next to him. Pressing his shoulder against the lieutenant's, he realized that he had raised his body temperature, which was probably why the cats had gathered around him.

“Are you warming them up?” Soap asked, lighting a cigarette.

“Yes.” Ghost nodded and stroked one of the cats on his lap, then MacTavish's head, who immediately lit up with a satisfied smile.

Whatever Price said, the desire to warm the animals was definitely a good thing, and it didn't matter that the demon had to consume souls to provide that warmth. Unlike Ghost, those people weren't good, so Soap had no intention of feeling sorry for them.

“The night before the mission, you left the block for them?” Soap asked another question.

“Yes.” Ghost nodded again and added. “They get cold at night.”

“Not just them.” Soap sighed, rubbing the back of his head against the lieutenant's gentle hand.

“I can warm you up too, if you want, Johnny.” Ghost said.

MacTavish choked on the smoke from his cigarette and blushed, hiding his face in the lieutenant's shoulder. He had once again made the insolent sergeant feel like a little boy, and not because he had said something without understanding the subtext that any adult would have understood, but because Soap wanted something like that more and more every day.

“I'll... tell you if I get really cold.” The sergeant finally managed to say.

“Okay, Johnny.” The lieutenant nodded. “You go; I'll stay here with them.”

“Good night, Ghost.” Soap stood up and, obeying a sudden impulse, reached out and gently stroked the demon's mask.

“Good night, Johnny.” He said and stared for a long time in the direction the sergeant had gone, pressing his palm against his mask where the sergeant had touched it.

[usafphantom2]

Range gate stealing.

Former SR-71 pilot, Capt. Steve “Griz” Grzebiniak writes about the revolutionary electronic countermeasures that ensured nothing except for a golden BB could lock on and then shoot down the SR-71.

Many of the books about the SR 71 do not have this information because it was classified. Most of the information about the SR 71 was declassified in 2007. However, there are still beyond top-secret missions. That has never been discussed. My father told me about his missions and made it clear that the other Habu’s did not know the details. This makes sense because if our enemies got a hold of one of our SR 71 Crewmembers and interrogated them, they could only tell the enemy what they knew; there are still secrets out there. For instance, Colonel Hal Confer selected my Dad, Butch Sheffield, and Bob Spencer for a Silver Star Award I have the paperwork. The Silver Star was turned down because the Air Force said that it never happened. I agree with my Father that if something is classified, you do not discuss it until it has been declassified like the information in this article.

Some parts of the jamming used on the SR 71 are still not allowed to be used while flying over the United States. So when another country brags that they could’ve shot down our SR 71, just remember what our jamming devices were able to do!

In a recent online discussion with me, Steve explained more about the electronic countermeasures used in the Blackbird. This is what Steve Grzebiniak wrote:

This "deception jammer" used an electronic countermeasure tactic commonly known as "range-gate stealing or range-gate pull-off." The concept is the same as described below. This tactic would cause a false target return to show up on the enemy-targeting radar scope. This would force the enemy radar operator to switch from the "target tracking mode" and go back into the "target acquisition mode" and attempt to re-acquire the SR-71 before switching back to the more accurate "target tracking mode."

This essentially defeated the SAM capability to successfully intercept the SR, as the window to acquire, track, and launch was very limited against a high-speed target.

The SR-71 was one of the first aircraft to feature a “Deception Jammer. “ I think this is fascinating and so inventive since it was made in the early 60s. The device was designed to absorb and memorize an enemy radar signal as it hit the reconnaissance plane and sent back a radar single similar to the SR -71, but STRONGER then projecting away from the plane, the trick was designed to confuse the enemy radar operator by making him see a “ghost blimp on the scope!

Thank you so much Steve for your addition to my article it’s like the icing on the cake. Reminds us all that it was truly geniuses who figured this all out in the late 1950s.

This is so clever, no wonder my father and my neighbors who all flew the SR-71 couldn’t wait to get back in the air again as soon as they landed

During the 20th century, the SR-71 was the coolest airplane in the world. In my opinion, it still is.

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

[writersundersiege]

Rooster and his Songbird

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader Seresin

Summary: Bradley is at the Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squad like every Friday night, but Penny’s announcement for a new special event happening at the end of the month was have a local artist perform and their favorite drinks will be the special menu of the night all proceeds go back to help Homeless Veterans. The group Penny hires is excellent, but what catches Bradley’s attention is a gorgeous girl he’s never seen before. What will he do when he discovers it’s no one other than Jake “Hangman” Seresin's little sister? Will Bradley take the leap of faith? Is Jake going to let his only little sister anywhere near Rooster?

The music was loud as Bradley walked into the Hard Deck; it’s always busy, but tonight seems louder and more crowded, and Bradley looking around can’t seem figure out why. He’s making his way to a back table where the Daggers usually congregate when he spots Phoenix with his favorite kind of beer tipped toward him, signaling him to hurry his ass up over there.

Once he arrives and grabs his drink, he sits and takes note everyone who was usually on a Friday night out is here, minus Coyote and Hangman, who are sitting right next to the piano area for some reason. As he turns to Phoenix and Bob, who are talking about some movie Bob watched on Netflix, Penny’s voice rings true over the crowd, quieting them as much as she can.

“Good evening; thank you for joining us for the first Music Makes Miracles first event. All tonight's proceeds, besides the girls' tip jar, will be donated to homeless veterans. Also, just so that everyone knows, our special tonight is a Rum and Coke courtesy of the lovely girl, who I will let introduce herself, but as the rest of the night goes, thank you once for coming out again. Enjoy.”

As Penny hops down from the small black box stage, three girls hop up onto the stage; all of a sudden, it’s like the world stops all around Bradley. You’re laughing as you throw the strap of a regular Gibson guitar over your shoulder, but as he looks closer, he sees details of hummingbirds on it. You were smiling from ear to ear. It looked like there was an ethereal glow behind you as you tapped the mic a few times to make sure it was not too loud.

“Hey everyone, we’re so excited to perform; tips are appreciated but are not expected, but what is expected is to have fun with us!” here, the band cheers, which makes the crowd of Navy recruits, their loved ones, and few scattered civilians clap and whistle along to get the energy going.

Bob whistles while Phoenix shakes Bradley’s shoulder, yelling, “hell yeah, girl.” Bradley chuckles, cheeks turning pink, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That’s the spirit tonight; we’ll start with Brandy by Looking Glass. I’m sure you all know it; feel free to sing along!”

Then you pull a little silver pitch pipe out of the pocket of your white sundress and put it to your lips, lightly giving the two girls standing behind you their pitches. You smile at the guy at the piano and twist the microphone to his lips so he can play and sing.

You walk back to the girls, and the music starts; you flip a switch with your foot to make your guitar sound electronic, and the man’s voice sounds out; he’s got a great tone of voice, but all Bradley’s eyes are you, and how you are keeping the beat perfectly singing back up with the girls, it’s like almost he can hear your voice all alone.

As they got to the bridge of the song, all the men and women in the bar alike were singing and laughing, drinking. Some of the older couples were even up dancing.

At the song's end, you were laughing with pure bliss on your face, eyes creased, cheeks peaked, and Bradley swallows hard, gripping himself to his chair to keep himself from standing and sweeping you off that stage and kissing you in front of all these people. What is wrong with him? He doesn’t even know your name, but he can’t stop this gravitational pull you seem to have on him.

You walk back to the man on the piano, grab the microphone, and twist it around as you kiss his cheek lightly. He smiles up at you. “Everyone give a huge round of applause for Noah; isn’t he just dreamy ladies,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Anyways, My name is (F/N), and the lovely ladies behind me are-“As she steps to the side, the girls wave, and the one with really curly black hair waves, “I’m Cora, everyone,” and the other girl with extremely long golden looking hair smiles big waving “hey y’all I’m Savannah” you step back in center stage, “And we’re just a traveling band of misfits who love a little music and love making people remember their love for music so please do enjoy we’ll be playing throughout the night we also take requests so feel free to submit them over here” she points to a little box with some paper and pen next to an empty glass jar that was adorably painted with pink and white flowers and said tips with a bit of smiley face.

Phoenix again tries to pull Bradley from his trance by smacking him upside the back of the head. “What’s with you tonight? You seem like you are in outer space.” he straightens back, turning fully to Phoenix and Bob, and points back in your direction. “the singer, she’s just kinda amazing, isn’t she?” Phoenix's eyes go as big as Saturn's moons until she starts cackling while Bob cowers back like he’s scared a tidal wave will take him out.

Bradley starts to get annoyed, clearing his throat and raising his eyebrow for explanations from either of his friends. “That-“Phoenix starts catching her breath. “That little songbird you are so infatuated with is Jake’s “Bagman” Seresin's sweet little sister (F/N) Seresin.”

Bradley’s eyes got wide, and he turned where Coyote and Hangman sat, head on a swivel, glaring any men who started approaching the stage and then sliding different dollar amounts into the tips for the case of scaring off a potential target was coming to be just so generous to you girls.

Bradley shakes his head almost in defeat until an idea comes to mind. He says, “I'll be back,” to Phoenix, which has her saying back to him. “ good luck, don’t get killed, “and he gets up anyway, heading straight to the piano. Jake tracks his movements the whole way, but so do you. The entire night you've been watching Bradley's awe-struck face, you thought he was charming but a bit of a big bumbling mess, so to say, but in an adorable way.

Bradley's movement is steady as he pats Noah's back, leans down, and whispers, which causes the boy at the piano to smile from ear to ear. Noah moves over, and Bradley sits and, just like many times before, starts to bang out the notes on the keys below, singing out loud right toward you and sings out.

“You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will

But what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

As Phoenix and Bob realize his grand plan, they are in fits of laughter as Coyote and the rest of the team are oblivious; Jake looks like he's about to implode on the spot. You, on the other hand, are dancing and singing with girls along with so many others in the bar Bradley admires as you dance, blinded by music as if there is no world. It's just you and the notes floating in the air. He and Noah continue to slam down notes in rhythm together, smiling at each other minorly as they play the last notes, and the crowd erupts in applause and whistles. He can hear Bob yelling, “Yeah, Rooster!” as Phoenix makes a rooster call, hands cupped around her hand to make it louder. Everyone else was clapping and laughing along.

Bradley smiles but starts shaking as he feels a small dainty hand on his shoulder, looking up and seeing your gorgeous glowing smile and bright (E/C) sparkling. “You are amazing, Rooster. Jakey never said you could sing!” Bradley sucks in breath. “He's told you about me.” Suddenly, Jake inserts himself between you, Jake grabbing your hand gently like you were a little girl who just ran from him. “I did,” he said, glaring in Bradley's direction, turning to you, saying, “Go back up there; little bird people are waiting on you.” he smiled, and you happily turned and hopped back on stage as if nothing ever happened.

Jake turns, facing chest to chest to Bradley, glaring. He says, “Bradshaw, I know what your thinking, and better fucking stop thinking it, or I swear I will make you regret everything you've ever done in life” Jake turns and points subtly at you. “She is my family; don't ever mistake or Mix that up. She's off limits to all of you, but especially you. Sound crystal to you, Bradshaw?” During this entire threat, Bradleys shakes his head with a smile and red cheeks, just watching as you and your band set up to start.

You throw the strap over your shoulder for your Gibson. You smile and pull your (H/T) from under the straps. You are adjusting the microphone and preparing to sing. Before you do, you look to where Bradley is standing, wholly frozen and silent in front of Jake; you smile and start humming your starting notes.

Bradley looks back to your brother and says, “Clear, Would never dream of it” With a smirk, he turns his back, walking, leaving Jake completely baffled, mumbling to himself, “What the fuck does that even mean? I saw the eyes he's been giving her, those creepy eyes all night.”

As Bradley sits back with Phoenix and Bob, they eye him patiently, waiting for him to say how it went and what Jake had said. No one gets their answers, though, cause the rest of the night, one pair of eyes is set to the other like they were connected by string.

Bradley isn't sure how or when he'll make you his songbird, but he would happily follow you anywhere to listen to your melodic songs.

All rights belong to the original creator of the Top Gun Franchise. I do not own any of these characters except band characters; this is all just for fun

[materialsscienceandengineering]

An earth-abundant mineral for sustainable spintronics

In 2023, EPFL researchers succeeded in sending and storing data using charge-free magnetic waves called spin waves, rather than traditional electron flows. The team from the Lab of Nanoscale Magnetic Materials and Magnonics, led by Dirk Grundler, in the School of Engineering, used radiofrequency signals to excite spin waves enough to reverse the magnetization state of tiny nanomagnets. When switched from 0 to 1, for example, this allows the nanomagnets to store digital information, a process used in computer memory, and more broadly, in information and communication technologies. This work was a big step toward sustainable computing, because encoding data via spin waves (whose quasiparticles are called magnons) could eliminate the energy loss, or Joule heating, associated with electron-based devices. But at the time, the spin wave signals could not be used to reset the magnetic bits to overwrite existing data.

Read more.

[boxboxblog]

How Do F1 Cars Work?: Braking, Cooling, Sensors

I never know how to start these posts. Let's dive in.

Braking and Cooling

Brakes are an incredibly important part of any car, but most especially in F1. With the speed and power the cars have a sensitive, sturdy, and strong braking system must exist. In the case of modern cars, F1 uses an extremely efficient and durable carbon-carbon disc brake system. This allows the car to screech to a halt in a split-second, and allows drivers to use their speedy reaction times to the best of their ability. When the driver steps on the brake pedal, it compresses two master brake cylinders, one for the front wheels and one for the rear, which generate fluid pressure.

For the front tires, the fluid pressure is delivered directly to the front brake calipers (part that houses brake pads and pistons). Inside each caliper, six pistons clamp pads against the disc and it is this friction that slows the car down. For the rear tires it is a bit different.

At the rear, the car can brake by three separate sources: friction from the brakes, resistance from the spinning engine (engine braking) and electrical braking that results from harvesting energy from the MGU-K . Although the driver can adjust each of these on his steering wheel, when he presses the brake pedal, the three systems work together via the Brake By Wire (BBW) system.

When the driver presses the pedal, the fluid pressure generated in the rear braking circuit is picked up by an electronic pressure sensor. The signal from this sensor represents the overall rear braking demand from the driver and is passed to the Electronic Control Unit (ECU) where it is turned into a series of commands to brake the rear of the car. The ECU distributes its efforts to the three systems according to the the set up of the car and this is altered by the way that the driver has adjusted the switch settings on the steering wheel. This is what teams mean when they say changing the setting on the car.

Going hand-in-hand with braking, cooling is another important part of the car, especially for brakes. Basically, there is a series of systems that cools the power unit, brakes, and electronics. If the car overheats, it can lead to damage and lack of performance. There are a few ways to cool. Radiators cool the engine and hybrid system. Intercooler cools the air that the turbocharger compresses before it enters the engine. Brake cooling ducts bring air to the brakes in order to stop them from overheating.

2. Electronics and Sensors

So i'm sure many of you have looked at the steering wheel and been baffled that this thing that looks like a Nintendo Switch steers that car. The F1 steering wheel is incredibly complex and has a variety of buttons, screens, and knobs. For example, on the steering wheel is an area for strat settings, where their plans for all eventualities are mapped out. There is also a rotary knob for MGU-K settings, where drivers can switch around when faced with possible failures. The menu allows drivers control over every setting in the car. Beyond that there is the pit lane speed button, gear change buttons, race start button, energy recovery button, and brake balance knob, among others. It really tells you how much drivers do in a race beyond racing.

Other than the steering wheel, there is also the telemetry, over 300 sensors which gathers race data and sends it back to engineers on the pit wall. This way, engineers can either remotely alter settings and strat, or advise the driver on what to do.  F1 uses a customized mesh wireless network system based on WiMax 802.16 at each racetrack. The sensors record data, which is then temporarily stored in the Electronic Control Unit (ECU), which controls functions like engine performance and power steering. That sensor data then travels wirelessly to a centralized location managed by F1. F1 then sends the data to the relevant team, of course very securely. Teams then use a system called Advanced Telemetry Linked Acquisition System (ATLAS) to view and analyze sensor data.

The final pretty important electronic devices on an F1 car is the many many cameras. The most recognizable camera is found in the "T" structure that sits atop of every F1 car. It gives viewers that top-down, forward facing view used often by broadcasters. this is also how viewers often distinguish between cars of the same team. One driver will have a yellow camera, the other has black. The two nose cameras provides a view of the front wing and low circuit. The 360 camera is on top of the chassis and provides a wide view of the race track, and everything else around the car. The driver facing camera is pointed directly at the driver and helps keep track of how they are doing, and in the event of the crash helps marshals and rescuers figure out the best way to help. The two rear cameras are settled on a rear facing structure, and allows the pit wall to see what is going on directly behind the driver and advise. Beyond these ones, drivers also have cameras inside their helmets, showing exactly what they see. Can't get away with much in an F1 car.

3. How They Work Together

So, we now know the basics of most parts of the car. But these parts all must work together before that car will go anywhere. How do they do it?

One of the more obvious relationships is between aerodynamics and power. The better the aerodynamics, the more usable the power is. They also work in tandem around different parts of the track. On corners the aerodynamics keep the car stable while the power peters off. On straights the power keeps the car boosted. Suspension and tires are also very connected. It is the suspension that keeps the tires on the ground. A good suspension will also mean that the tires are easier to manage, something any driver knows is highly important. Brakes and ERS are also connected because the brakes help recover ERS, pretty simply. Also the cooling system works with most of teh car, cooling engine, tires, and brakes. The biggest connection is probably between all the sensors on the car. They are connected to every single part, and even a small bit of damage can destroy them. The non-sensor components have to accommodate for the sensors and work perfectly with them in order for proper data to be sent back.

The ultimate goal of engineers is to create a car that works in harmony all together. The integration of the engine to the chassis is highly important. There have been cars that the parts were fantastic on their own, but the minute they were put together stopped working completely. Its why teams that produce their own engines have such a leg up over non-manufacturers. Its also why sometimes you will see a car that is running poorly until one small thing is changed, and then suddenly its brand new. Car harmony really is terribly important.

Alright, done! While I covered most of the important stuff, as always if there is any particular part of the car anyone wants me to dive deeper into, please let me know.

Cheers,

-B

[semperintrepida]

Descriptions and metaphors I haven’t been able to use while writing stories set in Ancient Greece:

anything related to clocks ("tick of time", "like clockwork") or smaller units of time (minutes and seconds)

anything related to gunpowder ("exploded", "cannoned")

machine-related terms ("motored", "pistoned", "windmilled", "[do something] mechanically")

electronic terms ("flipped a switch", "closed the circuit", "picked up the signal")

sneakily anachronistic idioms ("called their bluff", "show their hand")

the concept of adrenaline (and cousins dopamine and serotonin)

any reference to the brain being the source of intellect

so many medical/anatomical concepts — air can be breathed into the chest, but nothing about oxygen in the blood, energy in the blood, blood cells, etc

L-shaped, U-shaped — no such letters by those names in the Greek alphabet

I'm sure I've let plenty of anachronisms slip into what I've written for the AC: Odyssey fandom over the years, but I've tried my best to honor the time period. Every description and metaphor in fiction comes from the POV character (or omniscient narrator), and the words on the page should only be things they would know. (Maybe one day I'll write a little essay about third person limited/close POV and all the ways I adore it.)

That said, AC: Odyssey has a few temporal slip-ups of its own. My favorite is characters saying "okay"—and I'm eternally grateful for that because it means I can use it in my stories guilt-free.

Anyway, it's fun to ride the line between authenticity and pedantry.

[techav]

On Bodging Silly Mistakes

After a few weeks of rest and working on non-homebrew-related projects since getting my 68030 stack running 8-user BASIC, I've circled back around to the project. My goal is to have it ready to exhibit for VCF Southwest 2025 in June.

The first thing to do when picking up an old project is to make sure it still works to begin with.

It did not.

The computer would start up, go through its boot process, and start the user programs. The supervisor terminal would accept and execute commands, but none of the user terminals would accept input.

I could tell the serial data was making it to the machine, because my 8-port serial card has indicator LEDs on the Transmit & Receive signals and they were working as expected. If I held down a key as the system booted, it would print that character a few times before stopping and then no longer accept any more data. So it really looked like the hardware was working. Nothing had changed in software so that wasn't likely to be the issue.

It reminded me of the problems I encountered with reading from disk when CPU cache was preventing the updated disk status bit from being read. The serial card supports asserting the CPU's Cache Inhibit signal, but perhaps that circuit wasn't functioning. There was no change with it connected or not. Time to break out the oscilloscope. The Cache Inhibit signal was always low — always asserted. Cache wasn't the problem because cache was effectively always disabled.

Out of ideas, it was time to break out the logic analyzer. The I/O Read & Write signals on the serial card were working as expected, and it was properly addressing the card & its individual ports. So next thing was to check was the actual data being read from the UARTs.

Letting the logic analyzer run and watching the data fly through, the problem finally made itself known — the UARTs were not setting bit 0 of the status byte to indicate that they had received data. The data was getting to the UART, it just wasn't acknowledged.

But why? And why did it work initially on restart and then stop? And why did it work without issue a few weeks ago? What is different?

What is different, indeed. I have made one change to the hardware since I last ran it — I added a proper watchdog/power-on-reset controller. If the power supply drops below 4.7 volts, it will reset the computer. The power supply I had been using was marginal and was getting caught by the watchdog, so I switched to a proper power PC supply.

So what's different since last time I ran the system is my reset circuit is more effective and the system voltage should be much more stable 5V.

And that's when I realized a mistake I made in the design for my 8-port serial card. The 68k reset signal is active-low and the 16C55x UART reset signal is active-high. I was trying to minimize part count, and didn't have an inverter for the reset signal, so I used what I had on hand — a buffer with an active-low enable signal.

Anyone well-versed in electronics may already see the problem.

When the CPU-RESET# signal is asserted (low), the buffer will set its output, IO-RESET to match its input, VCC (high). That's great, we get a high signal on the output whenever the CPU Reset signal is low.

Except ... what happens when the CPU Reset signal is not asserted? The buffer goes open-collector and doesn't pull the IO-RESET signal one way or the other; it's just left floating.

Floating signals are bad news for digital circuits. Their behavior is unpredictable and subject to environmental noise, power fluctuations, etc. For my IO-RESET signal to function properly, something needs to pull it low whenever the 74'125 buffer is not actively driving it high. A good-sized pull-down resistor should do the job just fine, so I dug through my stock and found a 3.65k surface-mount resistor and bodged it onto the back side of the board.

And sure enough, that fixed the problem!

It is possible that when I was running the system on that marginal power supply previously, the IO-RESET signal was able to stay just low enough to not trigger reset on the UARTs. Or it could have just been different environmental factors.

I'm glad I took the time to test the machine today, and I'm glad this bug came up. It's the kind of bug that could easily have come up when running in a new environment for the first time — such as on the show floor at VCFSW. Far better to run into a bug like this at home with access to all of the tools (and time) to figure it out.

Now that things are up and running again I can continue my testing and setup for VCFSW.

[mindblowingscience]

Researchers who want to bridge the divide between biology and technology spend a lot of time thinking about translating between the two different "languages" of those realms. "Our digital technology operates through a series of electronic on-off switches that control the flow of current and voltage," said Rajiv Giridharagopal, a research scientist at the University of Washington. "But our bodies operate on chemistry. In our brains, neurons propagate signals electrochemically, by moving ions—charged atoms or molecules—not electrons." Implantable devices from pacemakers to glucose monitors rely on components that can speak both languages and bridge that gap. Among those components are OECTs—or organic electrochemical transistors—which allow current to flow in devices like implantable biosensors. But scientists long knew about a quirk of OECTs that no one could explain: When an OECT is switched on, there is a lag before current reaches the desired operational level. When switched off, there is no lag. Current drops almost immediately. A UW-led study has solved this lagging mystery, and in the process paved the way to custom-tailored OECTs for a growing list of applications in biosensing, brain-inspired computation and beyond.

Continue Reading.