Air duct cleaning services rockingham county

Ill be using non-specific pronouns to keep this as anonymous as possible.
My partner and I are both young adults (M/F,28) and have been together for around 2 years.
For the first year, we would alternate between our two residences, but i've since moved in with them to cut significant costs on rent, commuting, etc. Living together is great and we get along well, but they have an elderly relative that lives with us too and im slowly getting more and more frustrated.
To start off, my partner and I pay the mortgage/property taxes, 2/3 of utilities, and wifi. The relative pays for most if not all of the tv provider (we dont watch it ourselves), 1/3 of utilities, and pays for the majority of the usual groceries, but I buy a lot of my own things due to different tolerances. My partner seems to think the relative pays for a lot of the expenses and is really the main reason the relative is still living here. I personally dont think so, because I know service and utility costs would be a lot less with them here (constantly leaves lights on, high water usage, tv is on 24/7, etc)
They are also in the position where they would like it to be just us in the house, but again, a lot of it comes down to expenses. We are planning on moving just the two of us to a different county as soon as we can, but a lot of my finances are currently tied up in paying off student debt and I wouldn't have enough for a down payment for another year or so.
I feel a lot of frustration towards the relative because I feel like I dont have any privacy, I cannot go into the kitchen to make myself anything without them coming and "coincidentally" needing to be in there too which leads to them hovering over me, or im struck with them constantly complaining about things no one has any control over and it is mentally and emotionally draining. The relative also treats my partner like a child, and will try to persuade me to be controlling towards them in the way a parent would, which I find is horribly disrespectful to our relationship. There is also a massive lack in communication, as im often expected by the relative to do certain tasks I dont mind doing, but they dont ask if I will do it that day (cooking, cleaning, yard work) and will just leave things out so I can deal with it. I cannot stress how annoying it is having all of the ingredients for dinner thawed and set out for the entire day with the expectation that its what im cooking, or even feel like having. The relative also gets extremely frustrated if I dont eat something they've made, which 9/10 times is because its something I cannot have without getting sick.
My partner knows I am frustrated and tells me to tell the relative off, but I feel like my frustrations would get the better of me in that situation and make things messy. Every time I bring this up, Im always told to make an appointment with the bank so we can move, knowing very well I dont have enough to even have a conversation about it. Or maybe I should get my own place. My partner also gets frustrated and stressed by the constant neediness from the relative, and having to be the bridge of communication between them and me because they cant be bothered to message me directly despite being fully capable of it.
Has anyone had any similar situations where they have had to live with a relative or roommate they didnt particularly like? I have no idea how long my mental/emotional state can hold up before I snap. I feel like the entire situation is taking away from mine and my partners intimacy because we're not truly on our own and the quality of our relationship is declining.
TL;DR Partner's relative lives with us and is putting a toll on my mental and emotional health

I am staying at a lovely AirBNB in Antigua, Guatemala. I’ve stayed here in the past for a night or two but this time I’ve been there for a week. Like many properties here there is a manager on site in case of emergency, and he helps you check in and answer any questions you may have. Most of the time he’s just in his office, reading a book or otherwise hanging out. We’ve only interacted a few times, but he’s incredibly sweet. The only thing he’s had to get us this week was some extra toilet paper. Since this is not like a concierge nor a maid, nor anything else at a hotel, I’m not sure if I should tip him or not or even how much. (For reference, the apartment is about $100 per night. Tipping here on a dinner is 10%, but even a nice restaurant is less than half of what it would be in the US - nice dinner for two last night was $27.)
There is no maid service, and the apt gets cleaned by somebody else at the end as part of the turnover for the next guests. We do pay a cleaning fee.

I live in a small town with a population of a thousand or so, Everyone knows everyone and most all are overly nice people. I didn’t find this strange as most small towns stuck together as a community.
There are 5 businesses in this town a gas station, a restaurant, two bars, and a butcher shop that had just opened in town this year. Everybody loves the meat from there and it’s at such a great price you can’t go wrong.
It was a Friday night, around 11pm and I seen police lights at the edge of town a horrible accident had occurred as two linemen fixing power lines had gotten electrocuted and there charred bodies laid lifeless on the ground below the power lines. The police were first to leave as after they got there details they took off. The ambulance hadn’t arrived yet, as it had to come from another city over an hour away. Only a man in a bloody white apron stood out in the darkness crouched down looking at the bodies and it was then I realized it was Marc the Butcher. I watched quietly outta sight wondering what the hell he was doing. Did he know the guys? Was it friends? family? All these thoughts kept running through my mind. Then I saw it, he took a hunting knife from his pocket, and starting carving big chunks of flesh from the charred bodies. I rubbed my eyes as I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. He stopped looked around then started hiding the slabs of flesh by a nearby bush. After several minutes of slicing most all meat from the bodies there wasn’t much left but bone. I couldn’t watch much more as I was so scared he would see me. Then he moved in a creature like way but super fast like a hunched over zombie from 28 days later. Super fast he zipped right by where I was and was gone.
I went home feeling dread, trying to come to terms with what I had seen. I didn’t sleep at all that night. The next day, curiosity had gotten to me so I had to go see if the slabs were still hidden off under the bushes. As I drove up I seen crime scene yellow tape was all around the power line and the bodies were gone. I walked over to where I seen him stash the flesh and it was all gone too. Only blood remnants remained and it looked like it left a trail off towards the woods on the outskirts of town. I followed the trail the best I could before it went cold.
I had to find out what happened to the slabs of meat. Did the butcher come back and make it seem like an animal did this? Did an animal or creature do this? I should’ve stayed and watched longer. I had to know, so I went by the butcher shop parked and observed for several hours. I saw nothing but the usual customers coming and going. I decided to go home and take a nap as I was short on rest from the whole situation.
I had a terrible dream, Marc the butcher was in it. He was chopping up human remains and making them into steaks, burgers, you name it. He was a bloody mess and he had me tied up saying now you know my secret you will become human meat. I woke up in a cold sweat. Thank god that was a dream, but was it a sign. Have all the townsfolk including myself been eating human remains? Is that why he has the best prices in the state on red meat? I asked myself. I gotta get to the bottom of this.
I skipped work the next day as I thought to myself I need to know what’s going on. It all seems like a bad dream and I havnt woke up yet. But I know what I saw and how Marc ran that night like something not from this earth. Like a cryptid of some sort in a human body. Whatever he is he must be stopped.
I went to the butcher shop again only to see that it was closed on a weekday how strange. I tried to break in knowing it was wrong but I knew something wasn’t right. It was an older warehouse building and in this small town with little to no crime nobody had alarms. I grabbed my ladder from home and climbed up to the roof, I searched around and found a possible way in through the air duct. It was a commercial sized system so rather large, I had no problem climbing down into the passageway. It smelled like death so bad I dry heaved a few times before I made it part of the way through. Then I broke through and fell a good 15 feet. Gasping for air, air I didn’t want to breath as I was in the meat locker. I seen the horror that I had imagined. Two policeman and a paramedic were hanging upside down with pools of blood below them as there throats have been cut nearly clean off to the spine. They stunk like they had been there for awhile. Expressionless were the bodies.
I then heard a door and a weird grunting and shrieking noise I ran and hid behind a stack of crates. Fear was filling my body now as I didn’t know what to expect. Bursting through the door, there was Marc all freakish looking and making animal like noises as he hobbled quickly over to the bodies. I was a nervous wreck if he finds me in here I am surely dead. He started sawing the bodies limbs from the bodies one by one throwing only the heads hands and feet in a black plastic bag. Then he started tasting the meat raw I almost puked as he was making ravenous creature noises as he was feasting on the remains.
He then started grinding the meat through a hamburger grinder and was packaging it and throwing it in the freezer. I didn’t know how much more I could take, his eyes were all black he had blood all over him. He was acting very strange then finally he left the room. I heard more tools grinding, cutting, chopping in the next room. Now was my chance to find a way out. The shit luck there was only one way in n out. So I was gonna have to stay until he left to go unnoticed.
It’s been hours now, It’s finally quiet, I never heard anyone leave. Trembling in fear I crawl out from behind the crates and make my way to the front entrance door. I creep as quietly as possible and I still hear nothing. I push the door slowly open peeking out in the dark front of the shop. The coast looks clear so I decide to make a run for the front door, as I do I notice a pale white skinned person out of the corner of my eye. It starts to growl. I run full speed towards the front door crashing into it. The glass breaks I’m cut all over bleeding barely conscious. As I hear something sprinting toward me from behind. It sounds like it’s from hell, I gathered myself and stumbled outside calling for help. But it’s 2am and nobody is around. I start to run best I could up the street, looking back I see Marc deformed hunched over making dreadful sounds as he starts running at me.
Then I see a man on his porch waving me over. He has a gun it appeared and he pointed it right at me shouting don’t move. I put my hands up stating there is something after me, but as I turned around to see where Marc was he was gone. Trying to explain myself the guy got on the phone with the police, not taking his eyes off me gun still pointed at my chest. Then outta nowhere the man was tackled and tore to shreds it was Marc, I took that as my chance to get away. I hobbled home not looking back, made it to my front door and hurried inside, I grabbed a bag full of clothes out of my house got in my pickup and took off fast as I could without looking back. I moved outta state leaving everything behind.
It has been six months since I left. I have browsed the web on that small town to check the status on things and in just the short six months I’ve been gone that little town has been completely erased. Unsolved disappearance of the whole city. It’s been abandoned and is now a restricted area.

Attention delivery driver, courier, or messenger. Sometimes our job take us to a place where danger is waiting. Listen to my story. It will save your life.
I was a process server in PG County, Maryland. I had to serve a subpoena at this very old office building in the middle of nowhere. The building had no one at the front desk and no security guard.
I had to serve a subpoena to an insurance agent on the 6th floor. I got into the elevator, it was all even number. Some elevators are like this. But 6th floor is even, so I didn't care.
The elevator opened at one end of a very narrow corridor. The air was thick. It felt suffocating. There was no window. No noise seems to be coming out from any of the office doors. It was so quiet I could hear the bulb buzzing.
I knocked on the door of the insurance agent’s office, and no one answered. The narrow corridor starting to make me feel dizzy. I hurried back to the elevator and pressed the arrow down button to get out of here.
The elevator door opened. I went in. I see that the floors in it are all Odd numbers, 3 5 7. I just press the lowest number, thinking it will take me to the lobby anyway, and press down.
I was shocked when it went up instead.
Did someone call it up? Why did it opened on my floor and no one got out?
It opened on the 13th floor. It was complete darkness. Who called it up here? This was all very eerie. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
I got back into the elevator. As the elevator door was closing, I could feel something was moving in the darkness. Then I heard growling as the door closed. I started to get freaked out.
The elevator went down very far. Then, it opened up to a short narrow hallway with just a single door. What happened to the lobby? Where am I?
One long hallway… to one door labeled fire escape.
I walked out of the elevator to push the fire escape door but It was locked.
Fire escape doors are locked all the time. Businesses are more afraid of thieves than fire. Doing this job, I got stuck at a fire exit more than once.
I tried to peek outside through the foggy small rectangular window on the door. I saw a cleaning lady leaning against a window.
I was so happy I found someone in this cursed building. I was about to call out to her, when, I noticed her odd facial expression. The cleaning lady just stared blankly out the window. Then, suddenly, she snatched a pigeon from the window and began devouring it.
She chomped on the bird, hard. The pigeon was almost as big as her head, but she kept chomping and chomping. She then tilt her head up and tried to let gravity help her swallow it.
While the bird’s wings were flapping and its legs were twitching, she took one more big chomp which caused the bird's body to squirt blood all over her face. Blood also dripped down on her clothes.
As soon as she slightly turned my way, I quickly duck down. To be honest, I almost crap my pants. What is this place? I was so scared now.
I ran back to the elevator. Okay, if this is 3 because that was what I pressed earlier, then let’s go up one floor, which is 5.
I went up to 5. I can't stop thinking about the pigeon lady. What even was that?
The 5th floor looked like a carbon copy of the 6th floor. I exited the elevator and headed to the stairway. I walked down only one floor and it was a dead end. The stair way just stopped. I'm starting to get mad.
So far I operated as if the logic of this building's design could be understood if tried. But it was clear now that the building was designed to trap me in it.
I pressed down. An elevator opened up. This one was an odd-number one. I'm on 5. 3 is the pigeon lady. I entered this one and pressed it to go down to pigeon lady floor, but then quickly exited the elevator, then pressed down again, hoping to summon the even one.
It worked. The even one came but when I press 2, nothing happened. I pressed to go to 6, where the insurance floor was and take the stair down from there. That was my only chance.
Then I saw it. The lobby. I could see it through the window of the stairwell's door. But it was locked.
I know the building was not going to play fair. I smashed the window. Just as I was getting one leg out of the small rectangular hole, I heard the sound of the stairwell door opening very loudly from high above, and heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.
Considering that the only living thing I had met in this building were the pigeon-eating lady and the angry growling voice on the 13th floor, I did not want to find out which one was coming down and quickly climbed out.
So that was a close call. There are some freaky office buildings out there, even in the middle of a crowded city.
You see a building with barely any windows that had always been there, unless you do my job for a while, you have no idea what's inside some of them.
Stay safe.

2015 A3 sedan 2.0T Quattro ~55k miles, still under extended warranty until 02/2025 or 125k miles whichever comes first (lol). I do the oil changes myself (obviously saving receipts) and some other very basic maintenance but in order to maintain the warranty without issues I still have the annual maintenance done at a shop. I gave my local shop the list from Audi’s maintenance schedule of everything they recommend, which is as follows:
“Major maintenance:” - check battery - check cooling system, add if necessary - Drive shafts: check boots - engine compartment: check for leaks - exhaust: check for damage and leaks - front and rear axle: check for excessive play, check dust seals on ball joints and tie rod ends - horn: check function - check function of all lights - transmission and final drive: check for leaks - road test - sunroof: clean guide rails and lubricate - check spare tire / repair set - underbody: check for damage and leaks - visual check for paint damage and corrosion
Outside of the standard “major Maintenance” above, 55k service includes the following:

• Air cleaner: clean housing and replace filter
• Dust and pollen filter: replace
• Plenum panel: check water drain and clean if necessary

Time- based service:

• change AWD clutch (Haldex) fluid (every 3 years)

I also asked them to rotate the tires and to write “55k service” on the receipt. I already did the oil change myself. I supplied the genuine Audi Haldex fluid change kit from ECS tuning. The shop is providing the 2 air filters.
I was quoted $606 + tax, + $37 for NY state inspection (annual), which should theoretically have at least some overlap with the “55k major service” (check lights, check horn, etc.). Their posted labor rate is in the neighborhood of $125-$140 an hour last I checked. The shop added some line items to the visual inspection list like “check belts, check wiper blades,” etc.
$606+ tax just seems a bit exorbitant to me for what is largely just visual inspection. Change the 2 air filters, Haldex fluid change, lube sunroof, check plenum panel, rotate tires, road test. Sounds like ~2.5 hours max, right? Also no loaner car.
What would dealerships or your local shops charge for this? I’m in NY about an hour north of NYC.

I remember when I first got my iPhone I was spammed constantly with scam calls. I discovered early on there is a feature called ‘Silence unknown callers’ and since turning it on spam calls are a thing of the past. No more duct cleaning service calls, no more CRA lawsuits, no more Amazon fraud calls.
I was a Samsung user and I don’t think they had this feature at the time, but simply because of this feature I’m sticking to the iPhone.

The world had once again lit itself on fire as age old kingdom feuds were reignited. Young men and women would volunteer themselves to pick up a weapon to fight in the name of the Midland kingdom. Though with every story of knights and valiant calvary charges; the common citizen is always forgotten. Stores became empty as good once available so widely is sent to the front. The forests surrounding the many cities and towns become barren as wild game flee or are hunted to critical numbers.
While the history books focuses on the massive battles and endless sieges. There has always been a bigger killer then any ruthless enemy, hunger. As the war stretched on past fall and into winter; the people of the capital were starting to grow desperate. Including a Thief who was running out of options. It didn't matter who they were or where they're from. In the end, hunger was forcing this person to turn and commit crimes to help ease the pain. Stolen bread here, pickpocket coins there, it didn't really matter. In the end they were surviving and that's all that matters.
The capital used to be filled with opportunities for a Thief like them but with the war going on longer then was promised and with the first few flakes of snow. Well, there were smaller and smaller chances for the Theif to take. With hunger taking its toll, the only chance they had left was to try the outskirts of the capital. There was a reason why the Theif had avoided the farms and homes that dotted the outside of the cities walls. The farmhands were the first to be selected for 'optional service.' With most of the skilled workers gone, the owners were forced to work most of their days tending to crops that were simply just taken from them come harvesting time.
With no crops or workers left. The farmers simply just packed their things and left for the country side. The empty homes were picked clean of anything valuable or nailed down. Even homes in which the owners were fighting for their kingdom weren't spared from the vultures who populated the city. As the Thief dragged themselves past the snow storm, they could see it. The last open building in the empty outskirts of town. Cibus Inn, the last stop before entering the wilds that were surely filled with bandits and creatures.
The Thief would drag themselves to the back, searching for a way in. Finding a window that seem to lead into the basement was a stroke of luck. Taking their rusty set of lockpicks, they were able too open the locked window. It was a tight fit but the Thief had managed to squeeze on in. There in front of them was the stockroom of the inn. While most of the barrels and shelves were empty, there was still some bread left out in the open. As the Thief greedily bit into it the reason became apparent. The bread itself was stale and almost hard as a rock. In the end the Thief would gladly gobble it down keeping the hunger at bay.
As the Thiefs eyes adjusted to the dark; they saw something akined to finding a gem in a rock. There on one of the counters was a bottle of wine. Not just any but it was imported, old as well. If they could take it with them and sell it to some old army officer or the black market, food wouldn't be an issue for a very long time. As the Thief grabbed the bottle and gently lifted up a sound quickly filled the ears of the Thief. "May I please have that back?" The voice sounded rough and jaded
It was almost as if the voice had came out of thin air causing the Thief to jump. The bottle slipped and the sealed wine found its way towards the cold stone floor below. The precious red liquid would spill out, staining the floor and destroying a bottle of wine that probably caused more then the inn. In the darkness a massive figure almost double the size of the Thief would emerge outwards. "I'm afraid you're in the wrong place." A massive hand would grip onto the Thief shoulder as it gently squeezed. "And you just dropped a fifty year old bottle of wine."
[Heyo, thank ya for reading my little prompt. I know most stories have the characters go out and adventure but I was craving a more grounded approach. So the baseline story is, the Thief will be played by you and the Inn Keeper by me. The keeper instead of turning the Thief in keeps them as a worker as he teaches them the ins and outs of running a inn. Including cooking, hospitality, cleaning and other fun things! The world will change over time as the events of the war goes on. With each new patron and optional discussion, the more and more the world is revealed. Avoiding the massive lore dumps that are usually forced upon those for fantasy roleplays. Feel free to send me a DM, I'll be more then happy to receive you.]

The world had once again lit itself on fire as age old kingdom feuds were reignited. Young men and women would volunteer themselves to pick up a weapon to fight in the name of the Midland kingdom. Though with every story of knights and valiant calvary charges; the common citizen is always forgotten. Stores became empty as good once available so widely is sent to the front. The forests surrounding the many cities and towns become barren as wild game flee or are hunted to critical numbers.
While the history books focuses on the massive battles and endless sieges. There has always been a bigger killer then any ruthless enemy, hunger. As the war stretched on past fall and into winter; the people of the capital were starting to grow desperate. Including a Thief who was running out of options. It didn't matter who they were or where they're from. In the end, hunger was forcing this person to turn and commit crimes to help ease the pain. Stolen bread here, pickpocket coins there, it didn't really matter. In the end they were surviving and that's all that matters.
The capital used to be filled with opportunities for a Thief like them but with the war going on longer then was promised and with the first few flakes of snow. Well, there were smaller and smaller chances for the Theif to take. With hunger taking its toll, the only chance they had left was to try the outskirts of the capital. There was a reason why the Theif had avoided the farms and homes that dotted the outside of the cities walls. The farmhands were the first to be selected for 'optional service.' With most of the skilled workers gone, the owners were forced to work most of their days tending to crops that were simply just taken from them come harvesting time.
With no crops or workers left. The farmers simply just packed their things and left for the country side. The empty homes were picked clean of anything valuable or nailed down. Even homes in which the owners were fighting for their kingdom weren't spared from the vultures who populated the city. As the Thief dragged themselves past the snow storm, they could see it. The last open building in the empty outskirts of town. Cibus Inn, the last stop before entering the wilds that were surely filled with bandits and creatures.
The Thief would drag themselves to the back, searching for a way in. Finding a window that seem to lead into the basement was a stroke of luck. Taking their rusty set of lockpicks, they were able too open the locked window. It was a tight fit but the Thief had managed to squeeze on in. There in front of them was the stockroom of the inn. While most of the barrels and shelves were empty, there was still some bread left out in the open. As the Thief greedily bit into it the reason became apparent. The bread itself was stale and almost hard as a rock. In the end the Thief would gladly gobble it down keeping the hunger at bay.
As the Thiefs eyes adjusted to the dark; they saw something akined to finding a gem in a rock. There on one of the counters was a bottle of wine. Not just any but it was imported, old as well. If they could take it with them and sell it to some old army officer or the black market, food wouldn't be an issue for a very long time. As the Thief grabbed the bottle and gently lifted up a sound quickly filled the ears of the Thief. "May I please have that back?" The voice sounded rough and jaded
It was almost as if the voice had came out of thin air causing the Thief to jump. The bottle slipped and the sealed wine found its way towards the cold stone floor below. The precious red liquid would spill out, staining the floor and destroying a bottle of wine that probably caused more then the inn. In the darkness a massive figure almost double the size of the Thief would emerge outwards. "I'm afraid you're in the wrong place." A massive hand would grip onto the Thief shoulder as it gently squeezed. "And you just dropped a fifty year old bottle of wine."
[Heyo, thank ya for reading my little prompt. I know most stories have the characters go out and adventure but I was craving a more grounded approach. So the baseline story is, the Thief will be played by you and the Inn Keeper by me. The keeper instead of turning the Thief in keeps them as a worker as he teaches them the ins and outs of running a inn. Including cooking, hospitality, cleaning and other fun things! The world will change over time as the events of the war goes on. With each new patron and optional discussion, the more and more the world is revealed. Avoiding the massive lore dumps that are usually forced upon those for fantasy roleplays. Feel free to send me a DM, I'll be more then happy to receive you.]

First: https://redd.it/11e34ce
Previous: https://redd.it/11r6qde
Chapter 7
System Status Report: Server Isolation
Server 3 Offline due to admin user command isolation.
Please contact system administration team to proceed.
Steven Inoue blinked at his tablet screen, whose unique ringtone meant he was on call. He checked the timestamp on the message: 1:24am. He looked at the clock: 1:26am. Back to his phone. Good, he thought, I didn’t miss it. He thought he had slept through the alarm, hard as it is to do. He had heard the noise as if in a far-off room while dreaming; somehow, his subconscious wanted him to know he was needed. He was always on call; that’s why his employers paid him the big bucks. He laughed at that. A Second Module unit. That’s the life. It was an offer so enticing to an information technology 16th year in school that he had actually quickly researched the interviewer to make sure they were for real. He had found way more than he was bargaining for: a Nations of Earth ESS grade 2 government job, responsible for information systems management. It was certainly too good to be true. His parents had won the lottery to make the jump from the surface when he was only 2, and after that stroke of luck, they certainly did not take anything for granted. So he knew to be distrustful of anything that seemed to be too good to be true. And yet, 9 years later, here he was pushing thirty, living a comfortable existence in the Second, and all he had to do was keep the wheels turning for the information systems of the Earth Space Station.
That is, Steve thought, as long as I can keep the system from crashing every day. The problem working with the techies down in the lab is they almost relished creating some new system or hardware that was more than the servers could handle. Partly, it was a true justification of the need for the NE finance wing to dump some more money into producing the latest system upgrades and a new supercomputer system. But mostly, Steve knew, the geek squad loved laughing at the chaos. It fulfilled their self-ascribed ‘mad-scientist-turned-government-stooge’ mythos that they worked so hard to cultivate. The latest culprit, disrupting the system almost a record number of times, was Quinton Hammond. Quiet sometimes, but Steve could see flashes in him that he was like the rest. He relished the opportunity to test the system limits and in turn throw the Third Module server offline for the day. Steve could even like the kid, because he was usually tucked away in his closet of an office and certainly kept his systems clean. Well, Steve thought, I’d have to like anyone first. Steve launched himself out of bed and grabbed his tablet, punching the speed dial number of the Third Module Administrator, waiting to report and clear the authorizations.
“Inoue! It’s 1:30 in the morning!” Deputy Administrator Hernandez grunted into the phone, clearly just woken up. The ESS stuck close to the rotation of Earth to allow its inhabitants to retain their biological circadian rhythms, so while one could clearly see part of the sun based on the station’s position in orbit, and even though the Earth reflected a great deal of light, the shades in the dormitory chambers allowed for nighttime simulation.
“Sorry sir, server 3 is in isolation. We had a system lockdown.”
“Okay, then restart it.” Hernandez hung up with a sharp click.
Steve hustled around his room, grabbing clothing, food, and the gadgets he needed, and headed for the door. As the automatic door whisked behind him, he felt the cool circulating air of the main Second Module atrium, its sleek, sloping surfaces making cool lines up and down the entire pod. The Earth Space Station, or ESS as it was commonly abbreviated, had eight Modules in its right rotational ring. The first six were designated for habitable use. Number Seven housed the main circuitry for power generation and number eight was storage and other life support functions. The left rotational ring was devoted solely to food production, a much larger ring with a slow rotation and a lower gravity environment. Through this process and careful horticulture (the ring was large enough to house a micro-weather system), the ring was able to provide food for all of the ESS inhabitants for years on end, making surface-to-station resupply missions necessary only twice a year for essential materials and physical non-food item resources. Very manageable. The right rotational ring countered the left’s rotation only to the extent it needed so the station could make Earth day-like rotations, making the environment very hospitable to its Earth-descended inhabitants. Then, in the center ball-like hub connecting the two rings, automatically-triggered magnets built into the standard NE uniforms’ shoes allowed people to quickly pass between, though no major station functions could be housed there that required human interaction. Most of the station mainframes were kept here. The whole set up looks like two large wagon wheels out of those old Westerns spinning in opposite directions, Steve thought, linked together by a large, smooth, white ball with giant, gold wings.
Steve turned left from his unit’s door along one of the side exterior walls toward the inner wall. As Steve made his way to the elevator, his gaze wandered upward from his unit on the first level of Second Module, along the curved exterior Plexiglas surface separating the spacious interior from the unforgiving vacuum of space. He could tell the Second Module’s position on the rotational ring was close to the nadir because the long solar paneling was just visible along the upper crest of the module’s window. His eyes tracked the side of the window as it curved down past the tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh floors, each one a level housing ESS denizens, commissaries, work stations, veranda, courtyards. The entire structure was as massive as the skyscrapers his parents showed him pictures of near their home back on Earth in Tokyo. Steve proceeded toward the module lift, which at this hour was deserted departing from his direction. Everyone is coming home from the bar, and here I am, already back at work, he thought, entering the lift and touching the pad for the 5th level, where the PT station was situated. Two parallel lifts sat at the heart of each module, directly across from the PT system. They transported passengers up and down the different levels with a particular module.
As the lift shot upward, he got that nauseated feeling he always got in the ESS internal transportation systems. Between the in-module lifts and the pneumatic tubes between the different modules, everything was operated by air pressure, so in the event of a systemic failure, the emergency crews could pump air remotely to remove any trapped passengers and clear the way for the crews to come through. While a good failsafe, day to day passengers were always jolted by the sudden thrust. The doors whisked open, spilling Steve out onto the fifth floor, and he now had to walk back across the open-faced veranda to the PT stop. Each level’s path was a ring-like walkway perpendicular to the gravitational spin of the ring. With a bit of magnetization of the footwear and the system’s artificial gravity generation, the inhabitants barely noticed the constant battle they fought with physics. The ring-like pathways were hollow in the center, allowing for the modules to remain in an open-air style living-space. Suspended in the middle was a holographic depiction of a giant oak tree, its roots scraping the first level with its utmost leaves touching the top. The sight was magnificent, and very conducive to steadying the human psyche that longed for the sight of green Earth. But, as with everything else on the station, the failsafe mechanism ensured maximum shut down. The rings were fitted with retractable barriers with could shoot out and stave off any sort of combustion. Giant metallic airbags, Steve thought as he continued to marvel at the construction, this place will never get old. As he approached the PT stop, he waved his badge in front of the reader pad, which flashed green and allowed him to enter. He entered the first airlock, and as the doors whisked shut, he followed the track around with his eyes as it wound around the exterior-facing wall of the module right to the module-to-module hatch, like a piece of twine binding eight large bales of white cotton together. Above him, on the sixth level, a similar PT system ran in the opposite direction, toward Second Module.
Steve waited for the shuttle to circulate around, one of eight that dutifully rotated around the pneumatic tubing every two minutes. He regarded the interior side of the module, its ten stories stretching a mile side to side. The sheer size of one module, with all of its living spaces, was simply mind-boggling. Now multiply that by eight for the entire right rotational side, then another for the left, plus the static central traffic ring where ships docked and from which the massive solar cells extended. It’s no wonder that they housed me well to keep this place going, he laughed to himself. If something were to happen, something horribly bad, not only would thousands of lives be lost, but 80 Quadrillion Unified Credits would be lost.
Steve took an aisle seat in the twenty-person cab, felt the air close in as the car re-pressurized, and felt the force on his chest as the car took off toward the Third. The force pushing him back shot the bullet-like cab around the curved pneumatic tubing, and he could see the valve approaching as the Second Module disappeared behind him. The alternating valves allowed constant pressure and acceleration while maintaining separate tube environments, easing the clockwork-like precision with which the PT system operated. Steve passed through and saw a very similar sight appear before him, Third Module. Remarkably close in appearance to the Second, Third Module housed the main workforce of the Nations of Earth administration, along with the Fourth Module, which generally kept the security personnel – a full military installation right here on the station. Fifth and Sixth Modules were more for the working class and the lottery winners. New emigrants to the ESS. First Module contained the leadership quarters and high-class meeting spaces; Second Module was for the business classes, domiciles staked out early in the ESS construction for those with investments and with holdings back down on Earth. Not that anyone would want to go back down there. The main difference between the appearances of the different modules was that each had its own holographic suspension: the giant trees rotating in the Second contrasted sharply with the grandiose capital buildings projected in the First, the sweeping landscapes of the Third and Fourth, and the farms, vineyards, and rustic slideshows of the Fifth and Sixth. Sometimes, when work was at a lull, Steve would take a longer lunch and ride the PT around and around, taking in the sights. And he wasn’t the only one; he noticed several other regular riders taking his scenic tour.
As the car traced its way around the curved exterior wall of Third Module to pick up a lonely night-shift laborer, Steve sat in his thoughts, turning over page after page of ESS schematics in his mind and relating them to his knowledge of the station’s computing system. If the entire Third Module server was isolated by a user command, that meant one of two things: a workstation within the server manually removed the server from communicating with the rest of the station’s computing, or the main hub’s security firewall noticed an anomaly and a security officer cut it off. If it is the former, he thought, he’d have to identify the workstation and see what the source of the isolation was. If the latter, he would have a much easier job of bringing everything up and running from the main hub after conversing with the Hub staff. Either way, his best bet was to proceed through Third Module’s service entrance. Like spokes on a wheel, each module could access the central hub, from where command and control functions of the station emanated.
Steve hopped up and moved to the door as the capsule slowed in its approach to the Third Module station. His eyes had to rapidly adjust as the continued slowing brought the Third’s great Canadian Pacific forest projection into closer focus. Steve looked down at his tablet to check the time: 1:35am. He opened and re-read the message: Server 3 Offline due to admin user command isolation. So, the first stop is to the Third Module’s server station to check, and if that turns up negative, then onto the main hub. The cab came to a halt and the doors whisked open, allowing Steve to pass into the Third Module’s fifth level atrium. As he proceeded across the atrium’s walkway toward the inner wall, skirting the slowly rotating image of the wooded landscape, his attentions were inwardly focused. He was contemplating the previous day, when Quin crashed the server over and over again. It was likely that he had something to do with the system lockout. He knew Quin lived somewhere here; he had half a mind to get him out of bed and make him fix it. But, he knew, that was premature move. He had to get to the Third’s computing center and check on the workstations.
He cleared the outer wall walkway and came around the long stretch of inner wall commissaries and other shops. He passed the module cantina, appropriately named “Third Module from the Sun,” and doubled back into the establishment to grab a cup of coffee to go. Some patrons were finishing up their nights, and the bar had clearly emptied an hour or so before. He stepped up to the young woman alone behind the bar and ordered. She quickly whipped up the station version of the caffeinated beverage. With fuel in hand, he finished the walk to the center of the fifth level and turned the corner to face an “Authorized Personnel Only” door. Swiping his badge, he was granted entry with a low beep and was swept into the long hallway where Third Module functions were housed. He passed the electrical, hydro, and waste management capsules before arriving at the computing offices. With a push, he entered, walked over to the command workstation, set his coffee and other stuff down, plopped down into the chair, cracked his knuckles, and set himself to typing.
Chapter 8
syslogUser:QuintonHammond 1:49am Someone has removed the isolation and is exploring the server logs. It is protocol to submit all user logs to the sysadmin when accessed after the server isolation. I should make the sysadmin aware.
C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/newmail/ C:/rootmenu/syslog/download/ C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/newmail/attachment/ C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/sendmail/
Steve was reading the admin logs when his messages pinged with a new attachment, from Quinton Hammond. “Figures,” he sighed aloud, opening the mail. He tapped the attachment and pulled up the document which appeared to be a user log starting at just after midnight. He started scanning, his eyes widening as he got a few lines in. By the time he had read to ten minutes past midnight, his mouth was agape and he realized he had not blinked in a long time, his hands darting to his eyes to rub away the dryness. He launched himself at his tablet and began furiously typing, sending first a message to Quin, then to the other station administrators, and finally, to station government liaisons.

Hi, we are about to renovate a property and recently found out that it has two electricity meters on the property - one for General electricity and one which was Dedicated for the underfloor electric slab heating and a split unit air conditioner.
We have decommissioned the underfloor slab heating & split unit air conditioner, and wonder if the Dedicated metecircuit can be reused for a ducted reverse cycle air conditioner and/or an induction cooktop.
According to Energy Australia, the daily supply charge is per Property and not per meter, but would like to confirm with anyone who has such a setup. The electrician that came to disconnect the underfloor slab heating & split unit air conditioner at the circuit board said that we might be charged for both meters which is contrary to what Energy Australia said (in chat while I was getting the electricity service reconnected).
The Dedicated metecircuit is charged a a lower rate than the General meter, so there might be some savings if the daily supply charge is indeed per Property and not per meter.
Looking for feedback from Reddittors that have a similar setup. Oh, and I am in Melbourne in case the retailers have different policies by state.

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Hi Guys, these are the services I plan on doing as per the owners manual. Anything else I should be doing?
Engine Oil and Filter - 10k Tire Rotation and Balancing - 10k Brake Cleaning - 10k Cabin Air Filter - 30k Brake fluid - 40k Engine Air Filter - 40k Fuel filter - 80k Engine coolant - 80k Spark plugs - 100k Differential fluid - 100k Transmission fluid - 100k Drive belt - 100k
I have a Toyota Yaris 21 at 30k and a Prado 13 at 200k.