EVIL GENIUS BOOKS PDF
Iannini, Bob. Electronic gadgets for the evil genius / Bob Iannini. The sponsoring editor for this book was Judy Bass and the production supervisor was Sherri. Evil Genius has 23 entries in the series. Evil Genius (Series). Russel Gehrke Author (). cover image of Raspberry Pi Projects for the Evil Genius. working at the geophysical laboratory at Electronic Sensors for the Evil Genius. listed below for their help in making this book bringing this book to print.
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You can download the archive of Evil Genius magazine free. Free package of programs to work with pdf and djvu files can be downloaded here. Common KnowledgeSeriesEvil Genius Books Arduino Android Projects for the Evil Genius: Control Arduino with Your Smartphone or Tablet by Simon Monk. Index of /science/0_Computer Science/8_Electronics & Robotics/Evil Genius Books/ Oct - Robotics Experiments for the Evil myavr.info
She had a broad, square face and small blue eyes. She was wearing a suit the colour of dried blood. Over there. He was puzzling over this macabre image when the sound of heavy footsteps reached his ears. Lanna, who had flung herself onto an armchair, immediately jumped to her feet. Stuart glared at the door. Something about her voice made Cadel look up. He studied her with care, from the top of her permed head to the soles of her brown shoes.
She smiled in response, and the Piggotts all recoiled. Her mouth looked as if it belonged to an older, harsher century. She and her husband whispered together as they climbed the stairs, which creaked and groaned beneath them. Her teeth? His thick, dark hair was going grey. Gracefully, Dr Roth moved to push open the door of his office. Lanna smiled a meaningless social smile. He gazed up at Thaddeus. There were a number of glossy cabinets, some full of filing drawers, some with cables running out of them.
Lanna chose the crimson couch, settling down onto it very carefully, her bare knees drawn together. Stuart dropped into his seat like a stone. Thaddeus opened it, removed a folded sheet of paper, and smoothed the paper flat without taking his eyes off Cadel, whose attention was fixed on a modem attached to an inline filter.
Responsible supervision. By this time he was glancing through the referral, nodding to himself. When he had finished, he refolded the paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Would you like to use my computer? Stuart and Lanna both gasped. Dr Roth sank into the couch opposite them, his long, bony hands pressed together under his beaky nose. Too much like hard work, designing special programs for a genius.
They believe in small classes, and they nurture potential on an individual basis. Again, Thaddeus nodded. In the brief silence that followed, the click-clack of a hardworking computer keyboard filled the room. He knows, of course.
PDF Raspberry Pi Electronics Projects for the Evil Genius Free Books
She used it so much that of course he picked up on it. He was peering at the computer screen, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed. You need to locate the right initialisation string. He carries circuit boards and thermostats and ignition coils. God knows where he gets them.
Or he dismantles the security system. He looked just like a little angel, with his huge blue eyes, chestnut curls and heart-shaped face. We checked it out. And he narrowed his eyes, his jaw muscles working. Thaddeus surveyed him thoughtfully.
Could you give me, say, twenty minutes? Twenty minutes alone with Cadel? It should be enough for today. I guess so. Do you mind if we step outside for a few minutes? Dr Roth wants to talk to you. As he nudged his wife from the room, she threw Dr Roth a toothy smile.
The door slammed shut. Cadel ignored him. Suddenly, with an abrupt movement, Thaddeus yanked at the chair, making it spin around until it was pointing towards him. Does that sound good? His voice dropped to a throaty whisper. He could picture systems of all kinds in three dimensions, with perfect accuracy. He loved systems: phone systems, electrical systems, car engines, complicated traffic intersections.
When he first saw a map of the Sydney rail system, pasted on the wall of a suburban train, he was enchanted. At Jamboree Gardens, the teachers understood the scope of his intelligence. They moved him up to year four but would not accelerate his learning program any further.
They did not believe that he would be comfortable socialising with children older than nine. You know we place great emphasis on creativity in this school. He was impatient with silk-screen printing and books about riding bikes to the park.
His obsession was with systems, and he tended to ignore everything else. So he sometimes scored badly on reading and comprehension tests, though at other times the teachers at Jamboree Gardens would find him poring over books like From Eniac to Univac: An Appraisal of the Eckert-Mauchly Machines.
Forbidden computers both at home and at school, Cadel turned his attention to the Sydney rail network. He obtained every timetable for the entire system. He rode every line, over and over again, though not unaccompanied: a part-time nanny usually came with him, because the Piggotts often employed nannies, none of whom stayed for very long. When that happened, Thaddeus would put aside his newspaper and listen intently. Across the room, Thaddeus watched his pale little face grow perfectly still.
For the next five months, Cadel worked and waited. Every spare moment was spent riding the rails, and at last, one afternoon in May, he spied a particular signal light being repaired.
He got out at the next stop and, while his nanny was buying mints at a newsstand, he phoned State Rail with the news that there was a bomb planted in a certain subterranean station. Then he went home to watch TV, which was full of stories about terrible rail delays affecting the entire Sydney network.
On some lines, commuters had been forced to wait for up to five hours. The next day, Thaddeus asked Cadel if the train chaos had had anything to do with him. Thaddeus looked at him thoughtfully for a while, before nodding. You must always remember that, Cadel. He was being cautious. You should move on to another challenge. The road system, perhaps. Previously, he had accepted Thaddeus as being simply part of his life. What exactly was he up to? The following week, after much thought, Cadel asked Thaddeus another question.
He was sitting on the crimson couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Folding his hands across his stomach, he fixed Cadel with a bright and curious look. What do you want to talk about? Because you despise them? He looked warily at Thaddeus from beneath his fringe of curls.
Thaddeus smiled. He was growing extremely uncomfortable.
With the Net so close at hand. In fact, he had tried very hard. Unfortunately, he had got no further. There were no Poynter-Chuffleys to be found on the Internet — not even on various births, deaths and marriages sites — and as for Susan Jones, well, that was a name too common to be traced.
He could find no hospital records because his birth had apparently taken place at home. And the home in question no longer existed, according to his research. It had been torn down to make way for a shopping mall, Furthermore, he could find no trace of himself on the Internet. No online birth certificates. No online adoption records. It was all very peculiar. Thaddeus spun around. He walked slowly back to where Cadel was sitting, and stood with his hands clasped behind him, contemplating his young client.
Cadel gasped. He employs me to keep an eye on you. Dr Phineas Darkkon.
You might have heard of him. He was overwhelmed. For a long time, he had worked hard to suppress all interest in his real parents. Having been unable to trace them, he had come to the conclusion that fretting about them would be pointless; it would ultimately drive him mad. And now, all of a sudden, he was being offered the truth. He was almost afraid. Once again. You should always doubt everyone.
His tone softened. Very unfortunate. Why is he in gaol? Thaddeus glanced at his watch with a frown. He smiled at Cadel. Phineas Darkkon. Look him up and see what you can find before you visit me next. Instead, they would flip through the pages rapidly, sometimes pausing to examine a photograph or lick a manicured finger.
Never once did Cadel see any of them actually scan a line of print. The day after Thaddeus dropped his bombshell about Dr Darkkon, Cadel went to the library with his current nanny, Linda. Linda was English. She had blonde hair and a slouch, and she sighed every time she spoke. She sighed when she asked Cadel how long he was going to be. Her acrylic nails were so long that she had trouble getting a good grip on the shiny paper.
Cadel went first to the computer catalogue. From there he moved to the reference section, the biography section and the shelves devoted to biochemistry. A few old news magazines, one or two scientific journals, a book called Gene Crime, and another book on famous fraudsters were all that he needed. After trawling through these, he had a pretty good idea of who his father was.
He had been christened Vernon Bobrick, and had kept the name until he was well into his sixties. By that time he was a famous geneticist, who had made a great deal of money developing synthogenes — artificial genes cobbled together out of genetic material not already patented by big research companies. Vernon had bought himself several mansions, an island off the coast of Australia and a huge laboratory complex in California.
According to Vernon, while most humans were the equivalent of junk DNA, a very few were genetic goldmines. Pyrogenes, he said, allowed some people to light fires using only their body heat. Most of these people were unaware of their hidden talent. Indeed, most were unable to harness it properly, with the result that they spontaneously combusted. Hmmm, thought Cadel. It was one of the librarians. She knew Cadel because he was a regular at the library.
She was always asking him questions about the books he borrowed. Cadel returned to his books. Then they had become alarmed when some of his experiments resulted in the deaths of two university students.
Meanwhile, Vernon was pursuing another theory about UFO sightings and alien abductions. It angered Vernon Bobrick that so many of his fellow scientists were blinkered and stubborn.
He wanted to prove his theories, but to do that he required even more money. First he engineered a fake gene patent scam, which robbed thousands of eager investors of their life savings.
Then he quietly established a franchise of faulty vending machines, all of which swallowed money without vending anything. He was behind a handful of miracle cures that cured nothing at all.
Finally, and most importantly, he started an organisation called GenoME. By knowing exactly what potentials were contained in your genes, you could see where you were pointlessly fighting against your very nature. It cost a lot of money to get your genes mapped, and even more money to have the map analysed by experts.
Soon GenoME was enormously successful, with offices and members all over the world. It was almost like a religion.
If Vernon Bobrick had simply sat back and enjoyed the profits that rolled in from GenoME and his other business interests, he would have been left alone. But Vernon was a man with a vision — a vision that he intended to pursue at all costs. Then he produced from his secret laboratory a person he named Doel the Disruptor. Doel, he said, possessed the power to make other people hallucinate.
To prove his point, Dr Darkkon made Doel concentrate his disruptive energies on an English politician, who collapsed in a gibbering heap, screaming about giant spiders. He only had Doel. A great many powerful people were convinced that the shrieking politician had simply been drunk.
When Doel was arrested, it was discovered that his powers — if they existed — only worked in controlled laboratory conditions. Poor Doel ended up in a mental hospital. Meanwhile, Phineas Darkkon vanished. When Interpol began to pursue him, he moved from hideout to hideout, waging a very peculiar war against the scientists whose lack of vision, he thought, had condemned him to life on the fringes. He contaminated gas pipelines with a curious kind of molecule. Shortly afterwards, he was arrested while buying a box of tissues at a gas station in Colorado.
Index of /science/0_Computer Science/8_Electronics & Robotics/Evil Genius Books/
He received a life sentence at his trial. After attempting a couple of gaol breaks, he was put in a top-security prison, where he seemed to lose his fighting spirit.
No one had heard much about him for several years, though rumours continued to fly concerning the whereabouts of his multi-million-dollar fortune. There was no mention of a son. No mention of a wife, or even a girlfriend. Cadel examined the photographs of Phineas Darkkon. They showed a Yoda-like figure in his late seventies, squat and bald, with large ears, huge eyes and a greyish complexion.
Failed plastic surgery had left him with an almost non-existent nose. Though he claimed to have stalled his own ageing process with genetic manipulation and anti-oxidant flushes, Cadel saw no evidence of it.
He also saw no trace of himself in that strange-looking face. Studying it carefully, Cadel turned various questions over in his mind. If Cadel was a Darkkon and why should Thaddeus lie?
When had she died? Had his mother died before then? Was that why he had been sent to Australia — because one parent was dead and one was serving a life sentence? If so, where had the information on his birth certificate come from? Cadel glanced around him.
No one was looking his way. The librarian had finished admonishing Linda and returned to her desk. Linda was scowling as she flipped viciously through a magazine about hairstyles. Cadel slid his own magazine under the desk in front of him.
Then slowly and carefully, he tore out the article on Phineas Darkkon, while pretending to read the book about GenoME that lay on top of his desk. Having folded the three-page article into a small, thick square, he tucked it into his pocket.
He did the same to the chapter about Phineas Darkkon in Gene Crime, and to the piece about synthogenes in one of the scientific journals. Then he got up, returned all his reading materials to their proper places, and left. Yet he told no one about them.
On the one hand, Phineas might have been a man of vision and genius, embittered by ill treatment. On the other hand, he might have been a loony. It was hard to tell from the media reports. They were so very incomplete. Thaddeus sat facing him, legs crossed.
He tried to keep it a secret. Of course the police found out. You were bundled off quick smart when they arrested him.
I suppose they decided to hide you away in Australia so that Phineas would have a hard time trying to locate you. At least I did. Give me some credit. Are you his accountant? He was like a cat with a twitching tail. He knows better now. In some ways, yes — but not in others. The business with Doel the Disruptor.
Twitch, twitch, twitch went his foot. Not many people have made the mental leap. He had to find his own money to fund the research to support those ideas, and in doing so he simply exploited the stupidity of others.
Two types of people, like two types of DNA.
You have a supergenetic blueprint, Cadel — just like your father. The world is going to hell precisely because the junk DNA of stupid and talentless people has been swamping the potential of the human race. Think about it, Cadel. Think about what you have to put up with. No one wants you to spread your wings. Everywhere you turn, people want to rein you in.
Stop you from doing what you want. Cadel stared in astonishment. One day, Cadel, your father will receive the recognition he deserves. But he was interested. I like the way you talk to me. No one else talks to me the way you do. People treat me like. Secondly, your father is not among this group of people.
If you have no objection. He froze. He stared, then swallowed. Your father is under constant surveillance. Not on the Internet or in the papers. A fifteenminute conversation during our next session together. How does that sound? Only about Thaddeus. He trusted Thaddeus, and admired him. Thaddeus was the only one who seemed to understand.
If Thaddeus thought he should speak to Dr Darkkon, then he would — no matter how nervous the prospect made him. Besides, how else was he going to get a look at that DNAwired transmitter? The screen was attached to a very small box of circuitry, which trailed an array of fine wires.
Thaddeus directed Cadel to a chair in front of the screen and began to fiddle with connections and adjust frequencies. Cadel watched him with the motionless attention of a leopard waiting to pounce. After about five minutes, a crackling noise issued from the plastic box.
The screen in front of Cadel filled with light. A face appeared, then broke up again. There was a roar of static. It was quite a shock. Cadel saw first one eye, then another, each embedded in a nest of heavy creases. His expression was hungry, his breathing loud. I can hardly believe it. You really are the image of your mother. Thad, can you believe it? Then he nodded and licked his lips. This man was his father! His father owed him a computer, after so many years of missed birthdays.
It was the least he could do.
His face lurched about on the screen. If it was small enough. If it had DNA wiring. Suppose they did find it? Word would get out. The computer companies would get interested. You should never attract too much attention. By default, it sorts by the number, or alphabetically if there is no number.
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He was peering at the computer screen, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed. He did the same to the chapter about Phineas Darkkon in Gene Crime, and to the piece about synthogenes in one of the scientific journals.
So Stuart and Lanna were left with the problem of where to send him. Such a feeling, he knew, could be dangerous.
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