"Travis S. Taylor - The Quantum Connection" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Travis S)

game console. Now the little green light came on and the compact disk began to spin up, but for some
reason the system wouldn't read a disk. My guess was that the laser was either out of alignment or the
voltage to it was low. I adjusted the alignment screws and had no luck with that. So I checked the
voltage trim pots on the motherboard by the laser's ribbon cable. I tested both pots, the FBIAS and the
FGAIN and neither one of them were where they should be. I monkeyed around with them for a bit and
then, bang! I had a video game playing. Before I closed it back up I dusted it off with an airbrush and
also used some Isopropyl alcohol and a cotton swab to clean the lens. All in all, it was a pretty easy fix.
Then, just to be safe, I decided to play the games for a bit to make sure the system would be stable over
time.
After a while of shooting zombies, the game froze up, a common symptom. The zombies had nothing
to do with it; it was the cooling fan not working properly. Without the fan blowing right, the chips on the
motherboard were overheating. The fan was getting power, so it was just an old or bad fan. My money
was on old. "The fan was lucky; how many people didn't get to grow old," I muttered to myself.
I rummaged around in my junk piles until I found a fan that would suffice. It wasn't exactly the same
size and needed half the voltage, which was nothing a little silicone rubber sealant and a twice voltage
divider wouldn't fix. This time I killed zombies for two hours and never had a problem.
Then I decided to play all the games that were brought in with the system. They were the old
standard compact disks and all of them were scratched and dirty. I cleaned them and resurfaced them
and most of them worked. One of them, on the other hand, wouldn't. The disk for a killer zombie game
had a crack all the way through in three places. I gently cleaned it, dried it, and then resurfaced it hoping
that the clearcoat would seal off the crack enough for the game to work. It didn't. Again back to the
Framework, surfing for a few hours for a replacement. Unfortunately, there were none left out there
anywhere in the world. The game must have been unpopular and not sold many or very popular and
nobody was giving it up.
I had other things to do at work that day so I took a break from the game repair until later that
evening. I decided to take the thing home with me and play around with it for a few nights on my own
time. I had more resources at home than at the rental and repair store.
After work I packed up the console, the games, and all the myriad cabling and controllers and threw
them in the back seat of the classic Cutlass. Fortunately, the rain had stopped and the weather had
cleared up to something similar to pre-Rain weather, at least for now. On the way home I stopped by the
grocery store; Lazarus was out of beer and I was out of dog food. He shouldn't drink so much. I also
grabbed some more chips, cereal, ramen noodles, frozen pizzas, and toilet paper. You can never have
too much toilet paper. The young girl at the checkout counter never looked up at me during the entire
checkout process. She was cute; I guess I displayed no aspects or traits that attracted her attention. I
brushed my bangs off my forehead, scratched my posterior, and proceeded to collect my bags.
I stopped and grabbed a bagful of tacos for dinner; Lazarus likes them about as much as he likes
beer. It took three trips getting the video game stuff, the groceries, and the tacos up the stairs to my loft
apartment. Laz ran up and down the stairs wagging his tail, panting, and jumping up to my eye level the
whole way each time. Well, except for once when he stopped to go on the tree outside the apartment.
"Good boy, Laz. You been bored all day?" I set the bag of tacos down and plopped into my sofa.
Lazarus was immediately in my lap and licking my face. I returned the sentiment, "I know, fella, and it's a
tough life being a dog ain't it?" I scratched his neck and tugged his ears. "You're my buddy. That's right,
boy." Tears welled up and filled my eyes. I was crying again, although Lazarus made me happy. I pulled
him to me and hugged him with all my heart and flat-out bawled for a good ten minutes. As the sadness
eased slightlyтАФit never seems to go awayтАФI pulled the dog off me and went to the kitchen counter
where I found Laz a bacon treat, a peanut butter cookie, and me a couple of Zoloft capsules. I cracked
open a forty of Laz's favorite cheap beer and chased down the Zoloft. Likewise, I put some fresh water
in Lazarus's bowl and tapped my bottle against it
"Cheers, buddy." I wiped the tears from my face and returned to the sofa with a bag of tacos, my
beer, and Laz in my lap. I remained there for a couple of hours until Laz nudged me, explaining that he