Mat did not know whether to curse or weep. With the soldiers gone and Ebou Dar about to be left in his dust, there seemed no reason for the dice, but there never was a bloody reason he could see until it was too late. Whatever was coming might lie days in the future or only an hour, but he had never been able to figure it out ahead of time. The only certainties were that something important—or dire—was going to happen and that he would not be able to avoid it. Sometimes, like that night at the gate, he did not understand why the dice had been tumbling even after they stopped. All he really knew for sure was that however much the dice made him twitch like a goat with the itch, once they started, he did not want them to stop ever. But they did. Sooner or later, they always did.
“Are you all right, Mat?” Olver said. “Those Seanchan can’t catch us.” He attempted gruff conviction, but a hint of question hung in his voice.
Abruptly Mat realized he had been staring at nothing. Egeanin frowned at him while fiddling absentmindedly with her wig, plainly angry that he was ignoring her. Domon’s eyes had a studious look; if he was not deciding whether to be upset on Egeanin’s behalf, Mat would eat his cap. Even Thera was peeking at him past the tent’s entry flap, and she always tried to keep out of Egeanin’s sight. He could not explain. Only a man with porridge for brains would believe he got warnings from hearing dice no one could see. Or maybe a man marked by the Power. Or by the Dark One. He was not anxious to have any of those things suspected about him. And it might be that night at the gate all over again. No, this was not a secret he cared to reveal. It would do no good, anyway.
“They’ll never catch us, Olver, not you and me.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, and Olver gave a wide-mouthed grin, confidence restored as easy as that. “Not so long as we keep our eyes open and our wits about us. Remember, you can find a way out of any difficulty if you keep your eyes and wits sharp, but if you don’t, you’ll trip over your own feet.” Olver nodded gravely, but Mat meant the reminder for the others. Or maybe himself. Light, there was no way any of them could be more alert. Except for Olver, who thought it was all a great adventure, they had all been jumping out of their skins since before leaving the city. “Go help Thera like Juilin told you, Olver.”
A sharp gust cut through Mat’s coat, making him shiver. “And put your coat on; it’s cold,” he added as the boy ducked past Thera into the tent. Rustles and scraping sounds from inside said that Olver was setting to work, with or without his coat, but Thera remained crouched at the tent’s entrance, peering at Mat. For all the care anybody but Mat Cauthon took, the boy could catch his death.
As soon as Olver disappeared, Egeanin stepped closer to Mat, her fists on her hips again, and he groaned under his breath. “We are going to settle matters now, Cauthon,” she said in a hard voice. “Now! I won’t have our journey wrecked by you countermanding my orders.”
“There’s nothing to settle,” he told her. “I was never your hired hand, and that’s that.”  The woman was as tenacious as a snapping turtle, but there had to be some way to pry her jaws from his leg. Burn him if he wanted to be alone with the dice rolling in his head, yet that was better than having to listen to them while arguing with her. “I’m going to see Tuon before we leave.”  He realized that they had been lying there for some time, though, murky and slowly solidifying.
The blood drained from Egeanin’s cheeks as soon as Tuon’s name left his mouth, and he heard a squeak from Thera followed by the snap of the tentflaps being jerked shut. The onetime panarch had absorbed a great many Seanchan ways while she was Suroth’s property, and many of their taboos as well. Egeanin was made of harder stuff, however. “Why?” she demanded. In almost the same breath, she went on, anxious and furious all at once. “You mustn’t call her that. You must show respect.” Harder in some ways.
Mat grinned, but she did not seem to see the joke. Respect?  Calling Tuon High Lady or anything else was not going to change that. Of course, Egeanin was more willing to talk about freeing damane than she was about Tuon. If she could have pretended the kidnapping never happened, she would have, and as it was, she tried. Light, she had tried to ignore it while it was happening. In her mind, any other crimes she might have committed paled to nothing beside that.
“Because I want to talk with her,” he said. And why not? He had to, sooner or later. People had begun trotting up and down the narrow street, now, half-dressed men with their shirts hanging out and women with their hair still wrapped in night-kerchiefs, some leading horses and others just milling about as far as he could make out.  The sleepy fellow in the deep green wagon still had not appeared. Luca’s Grand Traveling Show would not be traveling anywhere for hours yet. There was plenty of time. “You could come with me,” he suggested in his most innocent voice. He should have thought of this before.
The invitation made Egeanin go fence-post stiff for true. It hardly seemed possible her face could grow any paler, but an extra scrap of color leached out. “You will show her fitting respect,” she said hoarsely, clutching the knotted scarf with both hands as though trying to squeeze the black wig tighter onto her head. “Come, Bayle. I want to make sure my things are stowed properly.”
Domon hesitated as she turned and hurried away into the crowd without looking back, and Mat watched him warily. He had vague memories of a flight on Domon’s rivership, once, but vague was the best he could say of them. Thom was friendly with Domon, a point in the Illianer’s favor, yet he was Egeanin’s man to the knife, ready to back her on anything down to disliking Juilin, and Mat trusted him no further than he did her. Which was to say, not very far. Egeanin and Domon had their own goals, and whether Mat Cauthon kept a whole hide did not factor in them. He doubted that the man really trusted him, for that matter, but then, neither of them had much choice at the moment.
“Fortune prick me,” Domon muttered, scratching the bristles growing above his left ear, “whatever you do be up to, you may be in over your head. I think she do be tougher than you do suspect.”
“Egeanin?” Mat said incredulously. He looked around quickly to see whether anyone in the alley had heard his slip. A few glanced at him and Domon as they brushed by, but nobody glanced twice. Luca was not the only one eager to be gone from a city where the flow of patrons for the show had dried up and night lightning setting the harbor on fire was a fresh memory. They might all have fled that first night, leaving Mat nowhere to hide, except for Luca arguing them out of it. That promised gold had made Luca very persuasive. “I know she’s tougher than old boots, Domon, but old boots don’t count with me.
Domon grimaced as if Mat were goose-brained. “The girl, man. Do you believe you could be so calm if you did be carried off in the night? Whatever you be playing at, with that wild talk of her being your wife, have a care or she may shave your head at the shoulders.”
“I was just cutting the fool,” Mat muttered. “How many times do I have to say it? I was unnerved for a minute.” Oh, he had been that. Learning who Tuon was, while he was wrestling with her, would have unnerved a bloody Trolloc.
Domon grunted in disbelief. Well, it was hardly the best story Mat had ever come up with. Except for Domon, everyone who had heard him babbling seemed to accept the tale, though. Mat thought they had, anyway. Egeanin might get a knot in her tongue at the very thought of Tuon, but she would have said plenty if she believed he had been serious. Likely she would have put her knife in him.
Peering in the direction Egeanin had gone, the Illianer shook his head. “Try to keep a grip on your tongue from now on. Eg— . . . Leilwin . . . do near have a fit whenever she do think about what you did say. I’ve heard her muttering under her breath, and you can wager the girl herself does take it no lighter. You ‘cut the fool’ with her, and you may get us all shortened.” He slid a finger across his throat expressively and gave a curt nod before pushing through the crowd after Egeanin.
Watching him go, Mat shook his own head. Tuon, tough? True, she was the Daughter of the Nine Moons and all of that, and she had been able to get under his skin with a look back in the Tarasin Palace, when he thought she was just another Seanchan noblewoman with her nose in the air, but that was just because she kept turning up where he did not expect. No more than that. Tough? She looked like a doll made of black porcelain. How tough could she be?
It was all you could do to keep her from breaking your nose and maybe more, he reminded himself.
He had been careful not to repeat what Domon called “wild talk,” but the truth of it was, he was going to marry Tuon. The thought made him sigh. He knew it as sure as prophecy, which it was, in a way. He could not imagine how such a marriage could come about; it seemed impossible, on the face of it, and he would not weep if that proved to be so. But he knew it would not.  It was not fair.
He intended to go straight to the wagon where Tuon and Selucia were being kept, with Setalle Anan to watch—the innkeeper could make a stone seem soft; a pampered noblewoman and a lady’s maid would give her no trouble, especially with a Redarm on duty outside. At least, they had not so far, or he would have heard—but he found his feet wandering, taking him along the winding streets that ran through the show. Bustle filled all of them, wide and narrow alike. Men rushed by leading horses that frisked and shied, too long without exercise. Other people were taking down tents and packing the storage wagons, or hauling cloth-wrapped bundles and brass-bound chests and casks and canisters of every size out of the house-like wagons that had been standing here for months, partially unloading so everything could be repacked for travel even while the teams were being harnessed. The din was constant: horses whickered, women shouted for children, children cried over lost toys or yelled for the pure pleasure of noise, men bellowed to know who had been at their harness or who had borrowed some tool. A troupe of acrobats, slender but muscular women who worked on ropes dangling from tall poles, had surrounded one of the horse handlers, all of them waving their arms and giving voice at the top of their lungs and nobody listening. Mat paused a moment trying to figure out what they were arguing over, but eventually he decided they were not sure themselves. Two fighting coatless men rolled on the ground, watched closely by the likely cause, a willowy hot-eyed seamstress named Jameine, but Petra appeared and pulled them apart before Mat could even get a bet down.
He was not afraid of seeing Tuon again. Of course not. He had stayed away, after sticking her into that wagon, to give her time to settle down and collect herself. That was all. Only . . . Calm, Domon had called her, and it was true. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, snatched out into a storm by people who would as soon have cut her throat as look at her, as far as she knew, and she had been by far the coolest of them all. Light, she could have planned it herself, that was how upset she was! It had made him feel as if the point of a knife were tickling between his shoulder blades then, and the knife was back again just thinking about her. And those dice were rattling away inside his skull.
The woman’s hardly likely to offer to exchange vows here and now, he thought with a chuckle, but it sounded forced even to him. Yet there was no reason under the sun for him to be afraid. He was just properly wary, not afraid.
The show might have equaled a fair-sized village for size, but there was only so long a man could wander about in that much space before he started doubling back on himself. Soon enough, too soon, he found himself staring at a windowless wagon painted in faded purple, surrounded by canvas-topped storage wagons and in sight of the southernmost horselines. The dung carts had not gone out this morning, and the odor was strong. The wind carried a heavy scent from the nearest animal cages, too, a musky smell of big cats and bears and the Light knew what else. Beyond the storage wagons and pickets, a section of the canvas wall fell and another began to shake as men loosened the guy ropes holding the poles. The sun, half-hidden by dark clouds now, had climbed halfway to its noonday peak or better, but it was still too soon.
Harnan and Metwyn, two of the Redarms, had already hitched the first pair of horses to the shaft of the purple wagon and were almost done with the second pair. Soldiers well trained in the Band of the Red Hand, they would be ready to take the road while the showfolk were still figuring out which way the horses were supposed to face. Mat had taught the Band to move fast when there was need. His own feet dragged as though he were wading in mud.
Harnan, with that fool tattoo of a hawk on his cheek, was the first to see him. Buckling a trace, the heavy-jawed file-leader exchanged looks with Metwyn, a boyish-faced Cairhienin whose appearance belied his age and his weakness for tavern brawls. They had no call to look surprised.
“Everything going smoothly? I want to be away in good time.” Rubbing his hands together against the cold, Mat eyed the purple wagon uneasily. He should have brought her a present, jewelry or flowers. Either worked as well, with most women.
“Smooth enough, my Lord,” Harnan replied in a cautious tone. “No shouting, no screaming, no crying.” He glanced at the wagon as if he did not credit it himself.
“Quiet suits me,” Metwyn said, stringing one of the reins through a ring on a horse-collar. “Woman starts crying, the only thing to do is leave, if you value your hide, and we can hardly drop these off by the side of the road.” But he glanced at the wagon, too, and shook his head in disbelief.
There really was nothing for Mat to do except go inside. So he did. It only took two tries, with a smile fixed on his face, to make himself climb the short flight of painted wooden steps at the back of the wagon. He was not afraid, but any fool would know enough to be nervous.
Despite the lack of windows, the interior of the wagon was well lighted, with four mirrored lamps burning, and the lamps held good oil, so there was no rancid smell. But then, with the stink from outside, it would have been hard to tell. He needed to find a better spot to park his wagon. A small brick stove with an iron door, and an iron top for cooking, made the space toasty compared with outside. It was not a large wagon, and every inch of wall that could be spared was covered with cabinets or shelves or pegs for hanging clothing and towels and the like, but the table that could be let down on ropes was snug against the ceiling, and the three women inside the wagon were hardly crowded.
They could not have been more different, those three. Mistress Anan was sitting on one of the two narrow beds built into the walls, a regal woman with touches of gray in her hair, seemingly intent on her embroidery hoop and not looking at all as if she were a guard. A large golden ring hung in each of her ears, and her marriage knife dangled from a close-fitting silver necklace, the hilt with its red and white stones snug in the cleavage exposed by the narrow plunging neckline of her Ebou Dari dress that had one side of the skirt sewn up to expose yellow petticoats. She wore another knife, with a long, curved blade, tucked behind her belt, but that was just the custom of Ebou Dar. Setalle had refused to take on any disguise, which seemed well enough. No one had reason to be hunting for her, and finding clothes for everyone else had been a big enough problem as it was. Selucia, a pretty woman with skin the color of buttery cream, was cross-legged on the floor between the beds, a dark scarf covering her shaven head and a sullen expression on her face, though normally she was dignified enough to make Mistress Anan look flighty. Her eyes were as blue as Egeanin’s, and more piercing, and she had made more fuss than Egeanin over losing her the rest of her hair. She disliked the dark blue Ebou Dari dress she had been given, too, claiming the deep neckline was indecent, but it hid her as effectively as a mask. Few men who glimpsed Selucia’s impressive bosom would be able to focus long on her face. Mat might have enjoyed the view for a moment or two himself, but there was Tuon, seated on the wagon’s only stool, a leather-bound book open on her lap, and he could barely make himself look at anything else. His wife-to-be. Light!
Tuon was tiny, not just short but almost slim as a boy, and a loose-fitting dress of brown wool, bought from one of the show-folk, made her seem a child wearing her older sister’s clothes. Not at all the sort of woman he enjoyed, especially with only a few days’ growth of black stubble covering her scalp.  That utter calmness almost unnerved him. Not even an Aes Sedai would be serene in her circumstances.
“Setalle has been keeping me informed,” she said in a cool drawl as he pulled the door shut. He had gotten so he could tell a difference in Seanchan accents; Tuon’s made Egeanin sound as if she had a mouthful of mush, but they all sounded slurred and slow. “She’s told me the story you have put about concerning me, Toy.” Tuon had persisted in calling him that, back in the Tarasin Palace. He had not cared, then. Well, not much.
“My name is Mat,” he began. He never saw where the pottery cup in her hand came from, but he managed to drop to the floor in time for it to shatter against the door instead of his head.
“I am a servant, Toy?” If Tuon’s tone had been cool before, now it was deep winter ice. She barely raised her voice, but it was hard as ice, too. Her expression would have made a hanging judge look giddy. “A thieving servant?” The book slid from her lap as she stood and bent to snatch up the lidded white chamber pot. “A faithless servant?”
“We will need that,” Selucia said deferentially, slipping the bulbous pot out of Tuon’s hands. Setting it carefully to one side, she crouched at Tuon’s feet almost as if ready to hurl herself at Mat, laughable as that was. Though nothing much seemed laughable right then.
Mistress Anan reached up to one of the railed shelves above her head and handed Tuon another cup. “We have plenty of these,” she murmured.
Mat shot her an indignant look, but her hazel eyes twinkled with amusement. Amusement! She was supposed to be guarding those two!
A fist thumped on the door. “Do you need help in there?” Harnan called uncertainly. Mat wondered which of them he was asking.
“We have everything well in hand,” Setalle called back, calmly pushing her needle through the fabric stretched on her hoop. You would have thought that needlework was the most important thing. “Go on about your work. Don’t dawdle.” The woman was not Ebou Dari, but she certainly had soaked up Ebou Dari ways. After a moment, boots thumped back down the steps outside. It seemed Harnan had been too long in Ebou Dar, as well.
Tuon turned the new cup in her hands as though examining the flowers painted on it, and her lips quirked in a smile so small it almost might have been Mat’s imagination. She was more than pretty when she smiled, but it was one of those smiles that said she knew things he did not. He was going to break out in hives if she kept doing that. “I will not be known as a servant, Toy.”
“My name is Mat, not . . . that other thing,” he said, climbing to his feet and cautiously testing his hip. To his surprise, it ached no worse after smacking the floorboards. Tuon arched an eyebrow and hefted the cup in one hand. “I could hardly tell the showfolk I’d kidnapped the Daughter of the Nine Moons,” he said in exasperation.
“The High Lady Tuon, peasant!” Selucia said crisply. “She is under the veil!” Veil? Tuon had worn a veil in the palace, but not since.
The tiny woman gestured graciously, a queen granting license. “It is of no import, Selucia. He is ignorant, yet. We must educate him. But you will change this story, Toy. I will not be a servant.”
“It’s too late to change anything,” Mat said, keeping an eye on that cup. Her hands looked frail, with those long fingernails cut short, but he remembered how quick they were. “Nobody’s asking you to be a servant.” Luca and his wife knew the truth, but there had to be some reason to give everyone else why Tuon and Selucia were kept confined to this wagon and guarded. The perfect solution had been a pair of serving girls, about to be dismissed for theft, who had intended to betray their mistress’s flight with her lover. It seemed perfect to Mat, anyway. To the showfolk, it only added to the romance. He had thought Egeanin was going to swallow her tongue while he was explaining to Luca. Maybe she had known how Tuon would take it. Light, he almost wished the dice would stop. How could a man think with that in his head?
“I couldn’t leave you behind to raise an alarm,” he went on patiently. That was true, as far as it went. “I know Mistress Anan has explained it to you.” He thought about saying he had been babbling from nerves when he said she was his wife—she must think him a complete looby!—but it seemed best not to bring it up again. If she was willing to let the matter lie, all the better. “I know she’s already told you this, but I promise no one’s going to hurt you. We’re not after ransom, just getting away with our heads still attached. As soon as I can figure out how to send you home safe and sound, I will. I promise. I’ll make you as comfortable as I can until then. You’ll just have to put up with the other.”
Tuon’s big dark eyes crackled, heat lightning in a night sky, but she said, “It seems I will see what your promises are worth, Toy.” At her feet, Selucia hissed like a doused cat, her head half-turning as if to object, but Tuon’s left hand wiggled, and the blue-eyed woman blushed and went silent. The Blood used something like Maiden handtalk with their upper servants. Mat wished he understood the signals.
“Answer me a question, Tuon,” he said.
He thought he heard Setalle murmur, “Fool.” Selucia’s jaw knotted, and a dangerous look kindled in Tuon’s eyes, but if she was going to call him “Toy,” he would be burned if he gave her any titles.
“How old are you?” He had heard that she was only a few years younger than he, but looking at her in that sack of a dress, it seemed impossible.
To his surprise, that dangerous spark burst into flame. Not just heat lightning, this time. He should have been fried on the spot.  Such as that was; he doubted she could reach five feet with her heels flat however she stretched. “My fourteenth true-name day will come in five months,” she said in a voice that was far from cold. In fact, it could have heated the wagon better than the stove. He felt a moment of hope, but she was not finished. “No; you keep your birth names here, don’t you. That will be my twentieth naming day. Are you satisfied, Toy?  She almost hissed the last word.
 A woman started hissing at him like a kettle, a man with any brains found a way to cool her down fast. She was gripping the cup so tightly that tendons stood out on the back of her hand, and he did not want to try his hip with another fall to the floor. Come to think on it, he was not sure how hard she had tried to hit him the first time. Her hands were very fast. “I just wanted to know, that’s all,” he said quickly. “I was curious, making conversation. I’m only a little older myself.” Twenty. So much for hoping she was too young to marry for another three or four years. Anything that came between him and his wedding day would have been welcome.
Tuon studied him suspiciously with her head tilted, then tossed the cup onto the bed beside Mistress Anan and seated herself on the stool again, taking as much care about arranging her voluminous woolen skirts as if they had belonged to a silk gown. But she continued to examine him through her long eyelashes. “Where is your ring?” she demanded.
Unconsciously, he thumbed the finger on his left hand where the long ring usually lay. “I don’t wear it all the time.” Not when everybody in the Tarasin Palace knew he wore it. The thing would have stood out, with his rough layabout’s garb, in any case. It was not even his signet, anyway, just a carver’s try-piece. Strange, how his hand felt noticeably lighter without it. Too light. Strange that she remarked on it, too. But then, why not? Light, those dice had him shying at shadows and jumping at sighs. Or maybe it was just her, a discomforting thought.
He moved to sit on the unoccupied bed, but Selucia swung herself up onto it so quickly any of the acrobats might have been jealous, and stretched out with her head propped on her hand. That pushed her scarf askew for a moment, but she hurriedly straightened it, all the while staring at him proud and cold as a queen. He looked at the other bed, and Mistress Anan set down her embroidery long enough to ostentatiously smooth her skirts, making it clear she did not intend to share an inch. Burn her, she was behaving as though she were guarding Tuon from him! Women always seemed to club together so a man never had a fair chance. Well, he had managed to keep Egeanin from taking charge so far, and he was not about to be bullied by Setalle Anan or a bosomy lady’s maid or the high and mighty High Lady Daughter of the Nine bloody Moons! Only, he could hardly go shoving one of them out of the way to find a place to sit.
Leaning against a drawered cabinet at the foot of the bed Mistress Anan was seated on, he tried to think of what to say. He never had trouble thinking of what to say to women, but his brain seemed deafened by the sound of those dice. All three women gave him disapproving looks—he could all but hear one of them telling him not to slouch!—so he smiled. Most women thought his best smile very winning.
Tuon let out a long breath that did not sound won over in the slightest. “Do you remember Hawkwing’s face, Toy?” Mistress Anan blinked in surprise, and Selucia sat up on the bed frowning. At him. Why would she frown at him? Tuon just continued to look at him, hands folded in her lap, as cool and collected as a Wisdom at Sunday.
Mat’s smile felt frozen. Light, what did she know? How could she know anything? He lay beneath the burning sun, holding his side with both hands, trying to keep the last of life from leaking out and wondering whether there was any reason to hold on. Aideshar was finished, after this day’s work. A shadow blotted the sun for an instant, and then a tall man in armor crouched beside him, helmet tucked under his arm, dark deep-set eyes framing a hooked nose. “You fought well against me today, Culain, and many days past,” that memorable voice said. “Will you live with me in peace?” With his last breath, he laughed in Artur Hawkwing’s face. He hated to remember dying. A dozen other encounters skittered through his mind, too, ancient memories that were his, now. Artur Paendrag had been a difficult man to get along with even before the wars started.
Drawing a deep breath, he took care choosing his words. This was no time to go spouting the Old Tongue. “Of course I don’t!” he lied. A man who could not lie convincingly got short shrift from women. “Light, Hawkwing died a thousand years ago! What kind of question is that?”
Her mouth opened slowly, and for a moment he was sure she meant to answer question with question. “A foolish one, Toy,” she replied finally, instead. “I can’t say why it popped into my head.”
The stiffness in Mat’s shoulders relaxed, a little. Of course. He was ta’veren. People did things and said things around him they never would elsewhere. Nonsense qualified. Still, a thing like that could become uncomfortable when it hit too close to home. “My name is Mat. Mat Cauthon.” He might as well not have spoken.
“I cannot say what I will do after returning to Ebou Dar, Toy. I have not decided. I may have you made da’covale. You are not pretty enough for a cupbearer, but it might please me to have you for one. Still, you have represented certain promises to me, so it pleases me now to promise, as well. So long as you keep your promises, I will neither escape nor betray you in any way, nor will I cause dissension among your followers. I believe that covers everything necessary.” This time, Mistress Anan gaped at her, and Selucia made a sound in her throat, but Tuon appeared not to notice either woman. She just looked at him expectantly, waiting on a response.
He made a sound in his throat, too. Not a whimper, just a sound. Tuon’s face was as smooth as a stern mask of dark glass. Her calm was madness, but this made gibbering look sane! She would have to be insane to think he would believe that offer. Except, he thought she did mean it. That, or she was a better liar than he ever hoped to be. Again he had that queasy sense that she knew more than he did. Ridiculous, of course, but there it was. He swallowed a lump in his throat. A hard lump.
“Well, that does all right for you,” he said, trying to buy time, “but what about Selucia?” Time for what? He could not think with those dice pounding in his skull.
“Selucia follows my wishes, Toy,” Tuon said impatiently. The blue-eyed woman herself straightened and stared at him as though indignant that he had doubted that. For a lady’s maid, she could look fierce when she tried.
Mat did not know what to say or do. Without thinking, he spat on his palm and offered his hand as if sealing a bargain on a horse.
“Your customs are . . . earthy,” Tuon said in a dry voice, but she spat on her own palm and clasped his hand. “ ‘Thus is our treaty written; thus is agreement made.’ What does that writing on your spear mean, Toy?”
He did whimper this time, and not because she had read the Old Tongue inscription on his ashandarei.  The dice had stopped as soon as he touched her hand. Light, what had happened?
Knuckles rapped on the door, and he was so on edge that he moved without thought, spinning, a knife coming into either hand ready to throw at whatever came in. “Stay behind me,” he snapped.
The door opened, and Thom stuck his head in. The hood of his cloak was up, and Mat realized it was raining outside. Between Tuon and the dice, he had missed the sound of rain hitting the wagon’s roof. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything?” Thom said, knuckling his long white mustaches.
Mat’s face heated. Setalle had frozen with her embroidery needle trailing blue thread down to her work, and her eyebrows seemed to be trying to climb over the top of her head. Tensed on the edge of the other bed, Selucia watched him slip the knives back up his sleeves with considerable interest. He would not have thought she was the sort to like dangerous men. That kind of woman was worth avoiding; they tended to find ways to make a man need to be dangerous. He did not glance back at Tuon. She was probably staring at him as if he had been capering like Luca. Just because he did not want to get married did not mean he wanted his future wife to think him a fool.
“What did you find out, Thom?” he asked brusquely. Something had happened, or the dice would not have stopped. A thought came that made his hair want to stand on end. This was the second time they had stopped in Tuon’s presence. The third, counting the gate leading out of Ebou Dar.
Limping slightly, the white-haired man came the rest of the way in, pushing back his hood, and pulled the door shut behind him. His limp came from an old injury, not trouble in the city. Tall and lean and leathery, with sharp blue eyes and snowy mustaches that hung below his chin, it seemed he would draw attention wherever he went, but he had practice at hiding in plain sight, and his dark bronze coat and brown wool cloak were suitable for a man with a little coin to spend but not too much.  I bought drinks for a few Seanchan officers, and they seem to believe she’s snug in the Tarasin Palace or off on an inspection trip. I didn’t sense any dissembling, Mat. They didn’t know.”
“Did you expect public announcements, Toy?” Tuon said incredulously. “As it is, Suroth may be considering taking her own life for the shame. Do you expect her to spread such an ill omen for the Return about for everyone to see on top of that?”
So Egeanin had been right. It still seemed impossible. And it did not seem at all important compared to the dice stopping. What had happened? He had shaken hands with Tuon, that was all. Shaken hands and made a bargain. He meant to keep his side, but what had the dice told him? That she would keep hers? Or that she would not? For all he knew, Seanchan noblewomen were in the habit of marrying—what was it she had said she was going to make him?—a cupbearer—maybe they married cupbearers all the time.
“There’s more, Mat,” Thom said, eyeing Tuon thoughtfully, and with a hint of surprise. It came to Mat that she did not appear overly concerned that Suroth might kill herself. Maybe she was as tough as Domon thought. What were the bloody dice trying to tell him? That was what was important. Then Thom went on, and Mat forgot about how tough Tuon might be and even the dice. “Tylin’s dead. They’re keeping it quiet for fear of disturbances, but one of the Palace Guards, a young lieutenant who couldn’t hold his brandy, told me they’re planning her funeral feast and Beslan’s coronation for the same day.”
“How?” Mat demanded. She was older than he, but not that much older! Beslan’s coronation. Light! How would Beslan cope with that, when he hated the Seanchan? It had been his plan to fire those supplies on the Bay Road. He would have tried an uprising if Mat had not convinced him it would only result in a slaughter, and not of Seanchan.
Thom hesitated, stroking his mustaches with a thumb. Finally, he sighed. “She was found in her bedchamber the morning after we left, Mat, still bound hand and foot. Her head . . . Her head had been torn off.”
Mat did not realize his knees had given way until he found himself sitting on the floor with his head buzzing. He could hear her voice.  Setalle leaned forward on the narrow bed to press a hand against his cheek in commiseration.
“The Windfinders?” he said hollowly. He did not have to say more.
“According to what that lieutenant said, the Seanchan have settled on Aes Sedai for the blame. Because Tylin had sworn the Seanchan oaths. That’s what they’ll announce at her funeral feast.”
“Tylin dies the same night the Windfinders escape, and the Seanchan believe Aes Sedai killed her?” He could not imagine Tylin dead. I’m going to have you for supper, duckling. “That doesn’t make sense, Thom.”
Thom hesitated, frowning as he considered. “It could be political, in part, but I think that’s what they really believe, Mat. That lieutenant said they’re sure the Windfinders were running too hard to stop or go out of their way, and the quickest path out of the palace from the damane kennels goes nowhere near Tylin’s apartments.”
Mat grunted. He was sure it was not so. And if it were, there was nothing in the world he could do about it.
“The marath’damane had reason to murder Tylin,” Selucia said suddenly. “They must fear her example for others. What reason had the damane you speak of? None. The hand of justice requires motive and proof, even for damane and da’covale.” She sounded as though she were reading the words off a page. And she was looking at Tuon from the corner of her eye.
Mat looked over his shoulder, but if the tiny woman had been using her hands to tell Selucia what to say, they were resting in her lap, now. She was watching him, a neutral expression on her face. “Did you care for Tylin so deeply?” she said in a cautious voice.
“Yes. No. Burn me, I liked her!” Turning away, he scrubbed fingers through his hair, pushing the cap off.  “And I left her tied up and gagged so she couldn’t even call for help, easy prey for the gholam,” he said bitterly. “It was looking for me.  You know it as well as I do.”
“What is a . . . gholam?” Tuon asked.
“Shadowspawn, my Lady,” Thom said. He frowned worriedly. He did not take easily to worry, but anybody except a fool would worry about a gholam. “It looks like a man, but it can slip through a mousehole, or under a door, and it’s strong enough to . . . ” He harrumphed through his mustaches. “Well, enough of that. Mat, she could have had a hundred guards around her, and it wouldn’t have stopped that thing.” She would not have needed a hundred guards if she had not taken up with Mat Cauthon.
“A gholam,” Tuon murmured wryly. Suddenly she rapped Mat hard on the top of the head with her knuckles. Clapping a hand to his scalp, he stared over his shoulder incredulously. “I’m very happy that you show loyalty to Tylin, Toy,” she told him in a severe voice, “but I won’t have superstition in you. I will not have it. It does Tylin no honor.” Burn him, Tylin’s death seemed to concern her as little as whether or not Suroth committed suicide. What kind of woman was he going to marry?
When a fist pounded on the door this time, he did not even bother to stand. He felt numb at the core and scraped raw on the surface. Blaeric pushed into the wagon without asking, his dark brown cloak dripping rain. It was an old cloak, worn thin in spots, but he appeared not to care whether rain leaked through. The Warder ignored everyone but Mat, or almost everyone. The man actually took a moment to consider Selucia’s bosom! “Joline wants you, Cauthon,” he said, still studying her. Light! This was all Mat needed to make it a fine day.
“Who is Joline?” Tuon demanded.
Mat ignored her. “Tell Joline I’ll see her once we’re on the road, Blaeric.” The last thing he wanted was to be forced to listen to more of the Aes Sedai’s grievances now.
“She wants you now, Cauthon.”
With a sigh, Mat got to his feet and gathered his cap from the floor. Blaeric looked as if he might try to drag him, otherwise. In his own current mood, he thought he might put a knife in the man if he tried. And get his neck broken for his pains; a Warder would not take a knife in the ribs lightly. He was fairly sure he had already died the one time he was allowed, and not in an old memory. Sure enough not to take risks he could sidestep.
“Who is Joline, Toy?” If he had not known better, he would have said Tuon sounded jealous.
 Tuon’s jaw dropped in shock. He shut the door behind him on the way out before she could find a word to say. A very small pleasure. One butterfly on a midden heap. Tylin dead, and the Windfinders might take the blame yet, whatever Thom said.  A very tiny butterfly on a very large midden.
The sky was full of dark clouds, now, and the downpour steady. A soaking rain, they would have called it back home. It began to slick his hair, cap or no, and seep through his coat as soon as he stepped outside. Blaeric hardly seemed to notice, barely gathering his cloak. There was nothing for it but for Mat to hunch his shoulders and splash through the widening puddles on the dirt streets. By the time he could reach his wagon for a cloak, he would be drenched to the skin anyway. Besides, the weather fit his spirits.
To his surprise, rain or no rain, an incredible amount of work had been done in the short time he was inside. The canvas wall was gone as far as he could see in either direction, and half the storage wagons that had been around Tuon’s wagon were missing, too. So were most of the animals that had been picketed on the horselines. A large, iron-barred cage containing a black-maned lion trundled past toward the road behind a plodding team, the horses as unconcerned with the apparently sleeping lion behind them as they were with the shower. Performers were already taking to the road, too, though how they determined the order of leaving was a mystery. Most of the tents seemed to have vanished; in one place three of the brightly colored wagons together might be missing, another place every second wagon, while elsewhere the wagons standing and waiting still seemed a solid mass. The only thing that said the showfolk were not scattering was Luca himself, a bright red cloak gathered around him against the wet as he paraded along the street, stopping now and then to clap a man on the shoulder or murmur something to a woman that made her laugh. If the show had been breaking apart, Luca would have been out chasing down those who tried to leave. He held the show together as much by persuasion as anything else, and he never let anyone leave without talking himself hoarse trying to argue them out of it. Mat knew he should feel good about seeing Luca still there, though it had never occurred to him that the man would run out on the gold, but right at that moment, he doubted that anything could make him feel anything but numb and angry.
The wagon that Blaeric took him to was almost as large as Luca’s, but it had been whitewashed rather than painted. The white had long since run and streaked and faded, and the rain was washing it a little more toward gray, where the wood was not already bare. The wagon belonged to a company of fools, four morose men who painted their faces for the show’s patrons, dousing each other with water and hitting each other with inflated pig-bladders, and otherwise spent their time and money imbibing as much wine as they could buy. With what Mat had paid for rent, they might be drunk for months, and it had cost more than that to make anyone take them in.
Four shaggy, nondescript horses were already hitched to the wagon, and Fen Mizar, Joline’s other Warder, was up on the driver’s seat, swathed in an old gray cloak and reins in hand. His tilted eyes watched Mat the way a wolf might watch an impudent cur. The Warders had been unhappy with Mat’s plan from the start, sure they could have gotten the sisters away safely once they were outside the city walls. Perhaps they could have, but the Seanchan hunted vigorously for women who could channel—the show itself apparently had been searched four times in the days after Ebou Dar fell—and all it would have taken was one slip to land all of them in the stewpot. From what Egeanin and Domon said, the Seekers could make a boulder tell everything it had ever seen. Luckily, not all the sisters were as sure as Joline’s Warders. Aes Sedai tended to dither when they could not agree on what to do.
When Mat reached the steps at the back of the wagon, Blaeric stopped him with a hand to his chest.  “Fen and I are grateful to you for getting her out of the city, Cauthon, but this can’t continue. The sisters are crowded, sharing with those other women, and they don’t get on. There is going to be trouble if we can’t find another wagon.”
“Is that what this is about?” Mat said crossly, tugging his collar tighter. Not that it did much good. He was already wet through on the back, and not much better in front. If Joline had pulled him here to whine about the accommodations again . . .
“She’ll tell you what it’s about, Cauthon. Just you remember what I said.”
Grumbling under his breath, Mat climbed the dirt-streaked steps and went in, not quite slamming the door behind him.
The wagon was laid out much like the one Tuon was in, though with four beds, two of them folded flat against the walls above the other two. He had no idea how the six women arranged sleeping, but he suspected it was not done peacefully. The air in the wagon all but crackled like grease on a griddle. Three women sat on each of the lower beds, each variously watching or ignoring the women seated on the other bed. Joline, who had never been held as damane, behaved as though the three sul’dam did not exist.  The other two sisters knew firsthand what it was to be damane, though. Edesina watched the three sul’dam warily, one hand resting near her belt knife, while Teslyn’s eyes shifted constantly, looking at anything except the sul’dam, and her hands kneaded her dark woolen skirts. He did not know how Egeanin had coerced the three sul’dam into helping damane escape, but even though they were being sought by the authorities as surely as Egeanin, they had not changed their attitudes toward women who could channel. Bethamin, tall and as dark as Tuon in an Ebou Dari dress with a very deep neckline and skirts sewn up above her knee on one side to show faded red petticoats, seemed a mother waiting for inevitable misbehavior by children, while yellow-haired Seta, in high-necked gray wool that covered her completely, appeared to be studying dangerous dogs that would need to be caged sooner or later. Renna, she of the talk about cutting off hands and feet, pretended to be reading, too, but every so often her deceptively mild brown eyes rose from the slim volume to study the Aes Sedai, and when they did, she smiled in an unpleasant way. Mat felt like cursing before one of them opened her mouth. A wise man kept clear when women were at odds, especially if there were Aes Sedai among them, but this was how it always was when he came to this wagon.
“This better be important, Joline.” Unbuttoning his coat, he tried to shake some of the water off. He thought he would do better wringing the garment out. “I just learned that the gholam killed Tylin the night we left, and I’m in no mood for complaints.”
Joline marked her place carefully with an embroidered marker and folded her hands on the book before speaking. Aes Sedai never hurried; they just expected everyone else to. Without him, she likely would have been wearing an a’dam by now herself, but he had never found Aes Sedai particularly noted for gratitude, either. She ignored what he had said about Tylin. “Blaeric tells me the show has already begun moving,” she said coolly, “but you must stop it. Luca will only listen to you.” Her mouth tightened slightly on the words. Aes Sedai also were unused to not being listened to, and Greens were not the best at hiding their displeasure. “We must abandon the idea of Lugard for the time being. We must take the ferry across the harbor and go to Illian.”
That was about as bad a suggestion as he had heard out of her, though she did not mean it for a suggestion, of course; she was worse than Egeanin that way. With half the show already on the road, or near enough, it would take all day just to get everyone down to the ferry landing, and it would mean going into the city, besides. Heading for Lugard took the show away from the Seanchan as quickly as possible, while they had soldiers camped all the way to the Illian border and maybe beyond. Egeanin was reluctant to tell what she knew, but Thom had his ways of learning these things. Mat did not bother to crack his teeth, though. He did not need to.
“No,” Teslyn said in a tight voice, her Illianer accent strong. Leaning past Edesina, she looked as though she chewed rocks three meals a day, hard-faced and set-jawed, but there was a nervousness in her eyes, put there by her weeks as a damane. “No, Joline. I have told you, we do no dare risk it! We do no dare!”
“Light!” Joline spat, slamming her book to the floor. “Take hold of yourself, Teslyn! Just because you were held prisoner for a little time is no reason to go to pieces!”
“Go to pieces? Go to pieces? Let them put that collar on you and then speak of going to pieces!” Teslyn’s hand went to her throat as though she felt the a’dam’s collar still. “Help me convince her, Edesina. She will have us collared again, if we do let her!”
Edesina drew back on herself against the wall behind the bed—a slim, handsome woman with black hair spilling to her waist, she always went silent when the Red and the Green argued, as they did often—but Joline did not spare her so much as a glance. “You ask a rebel for help, Teslyn? We should have left her for the Seanchan! Listen to me. You can feel it as well as I. Would you really accept a greater danger to avoid a lesser?”
“Lesser!” Teslyn snarled. “You do know nothing of—!”
Renna held her book out at arm’s length and let it drop to the floor with a bang. “If my Lord will excuse us a little while, we still have our a’dam, and we can teach these girls to behave again in short order.” Her accent had a musical quality, but the smile on her lips never touched her brown eyes. “It never works to let them go slack this way.” Seta nodded grimly and stood as if to fetch out the leashes.
“I think we’re done with a’dam,” Bethamin said, ignoring the shocked looks from the other two sul’dam, “but there are other ways to settle these girls down. May I suggest my Lord return in an hour? They’ll tell you what you want to know without any squabbling once they can’t sit down.” She sounded as though she meant exactly what she said. Joline was staring at the three sul’dam in outraged disbelief, but Edesina was sitting up straight, gripping her belt knife with a determined expression, while Teslyn was now the one shrinking back against the wall, her hands clasped tightly at her waist.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mat said after a moment. Only a moment. However satisfying it might be to have Joline “settled down,” Edesina might draw that knife, and that would set the cat among the chickens no matter how it turned out. “What greater danger are you talking about, Joline? Joline? What danger is greater than the Seanchan right now?”
The Green decided her stare was making no impression on Bethamin and turned it on Mat, instead. Had she been other than Aes Sedai, he would have said she looked sulky. Joline disliked explaining. “If you must know, someone is channeling.” Teslyn and Edesina nodded, the Red sister reluctantly, the Yellow emphatically.
“In the camp?” he said in alarm. His right hand rose on its own to press against the silver foxhead under his shirt, but the medallion had not turned cold.
“Far away,” Joline replied, still unwilling. “To the north.”
“Much farther than any of us should be able to sense channeling,” Edesina put in, a touch of fear in her voice. “The amount of saidar being wielded must be immense, inconceivable.” She fell silent at a sharp glance from Joline, who turned back to study Mat as though deciding how much she had to tell him.
“At that distance,” she went on, “we wouldn’t be able to feel every sister in the Tower channeling. It has to be the Forsaken, and whatever they’re doing, we do not want to be any closer than we can avoid.”

Joline went on arguing, but he did not bother to listen. Whenever he thought of Rand or Perrin, colors swirled in his head. A part of being ta’veren, he supposed. This time, he had not thought of either of his friends, but the colors had suddenly been there, a fan of a thousand rainbows. This time, they had almost formed an image, a vague impression that might have been a man and a woman seated on the ground facing one another. It was gone in an instant, but he knew as surely as he knew his name. Not the Forsaken. Rand. And he could not help wondering, what had Rand been doing when the dice stopped?


Module chisq
Author(s): Haris Skiadas, Barb Wahl
Provides density function, cumulative distribution function, quantile function, and random number generator for the chi squared distribution on $k$ degrees of freedom, defined by the pdf: $$f(x; u) = \frac{1}{2^u\Gamma(u)}x^{u - 1} e^{-x/2}$$ where $u = k / 2$, the integer $k > 0$ is the degrees of freedom and $x \in [0, \infty)$.
dchisq
provides access to this probability density function,
pchisq
to the cumulative distribution function, qchisq
to the
quantile function (inverse cdf)
and rchisq
to random deviates.
Finally, you can use chisq
to obtain an object
representing the chi squared distribution for a given value of
the degrees of freedom $k$.
The implementation uses the gamma distribution. See gamma
.
chisq(df)
Returns an object representing a chi squared distribution for df
degrees
of freedom, with properties d
, p
, q
, r
.
chisq(df).d(x, logp) // same as dchisq(df, logp)(x)
chisq(df).p(x, lowerTail, logp) // same as pchisq(df, lowerTail, logp)(x)
chisq(df).q(x, lowerTail, logp) // same as qchisq(df, lowerTail, logp)(x)
chisq(df).r() // same as rchisq(df)()
dchisq(df, logp)(x)
Evaluates the chi squared distribution's density function at x
.
df
is the degrees of freedom $k$.
logp
defaults to false
; if logp
is true
, returns the
logarithm of the result.
pchisq(df, lowerTail, logp)(x)
Evaluates the lower-tail cdf at x
for the chi squared distribution:
$$\textrm{pchisq}(k)(x) = \frac{\gamma(k/2, x/2)}{\Gamma(k/2)}$$
where $\gamma$ is the incomplete gamma function, and
df
is the degrees of freedom $k$.
lowerTail
defaults to true
; if lowerTail
is false
, returns
the upper tail probability instead.
logp
defaults to false
; if logp
is true
, returns the logarithm
of the result.
qchisq(df, lowerTail, logp)(p)
Evaluates the chi-squared distribution's quantile function
(inverse cdf) at p
:
$$\textrm{qchisq}(k)(p) = x \textrm{ such that } \textrm{prob}(X \leq x) = p$$
where $X$ is a random variable with the chi-squared distribution.
df
is the degrees of freedom $k$.
lowerTail
defaults to true
; if lowerTail
is false
, p
is
interpreted as an upper tail probability (returns
$x$ such that $\textrm{prob}(X > x) = p)$.
logp
defaults to false
; if logp
is true
, interprets p
as
the logarithm of the desired probability.
rchisq(df)()
Returns a random variate from the chi squared distribution with df
degrees
of freedom.


This first example showcases the accordion plug-in being generated via the minimal mark-up required for this plug-in to work.
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?"
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?"
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?"
This example is the using both generated and static mark-up, with a second nested accordion within one of the parent accordion panels.
Here's some text. You will read this now. Or then. I guess then because you're done reading at this point, exactly.
Here's an intro paragraph. But oh no. There's an accordion within an accordion!
First block of content with a focusable element.
Another block of content with a focusable element.
"This again... But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?"
With left and right drawers
Additional configurations available:
Content center panel


Support Attribute
ng-model is required. If you just wanna have a fun, bind a useless model.
value: {{demo1}}
If you want change component size, rewrite font-size of the 'switch-button-block' class.
If you want change component width, rewrite width of the 'switch-button-block' class. Using 'em' unit is recommended.
value: {{demo2}} | disabled: {{demo2Disabled}}
Work with ng-true-value & ng-false-value
value: {{demo3}}


?6
7
8
9
10
_
The
New
York
copyright
reserved
botanical
Garden
988.
Arundinella
berteroniana
(Schult.)
Hitchc.
&
Chase
Cuba:
Lomas
de
Banao,
Santa
Clara.
On
stones
in
ri0
doi
Medio.ÑCommon
in
this
region.
4
Collector,
E.
L.
Ekmas
January
30,
1923
AMERICAN
GRASSES
FROM
THE
U.
S.
NATIONAL
HERBARIUM,
SMITHSONIAN
INSTITUTION
PBEPAKED
BY
THE
SYSTEMATIC
AGROSTOLOGIST,
U.
S.
DEPA11T1IEHT
OF
AGKICDLT†RB
01529724
Legend -
Level of confidence that token is an accurately-transcribed word
extremely low
very low
low
undetermined
medium
high
very high


Package javax.measure
Specifies Java packages for the programmatic, type safe handling
of quantities and their expression as values of units.
The core interfaces of this package are Dimension
, Prefix
, Quantity
and Unit
.
The package also contains the most common Prefix
implementations MetricPrefix
and BinaryPrefix
.
- Since:
- 1.0
- Version:
- 1.7, February 4, 2019
- Author:
- Jean-Marie Dautelle, Werner Keil, Otávio Gonçalves de Santana
-
Interface Summary Interface Description Dimension Represents the dimension of a unit.Prefix A unit prefix is a specifier or mnemonic that is prepended to units of measurement to indicate multiples or fractions of the units.Quantity<Q extends Quantity<Q>> Represents a quantitative property of a phenomenon, body, or substance, that can be quantified by measurement.Unit<Q extends Quantity<Q>> Represents a determinate quantity (as of length, time, heat, or value) adopted as a standard of measurement.UnitConverter A converter of numeric values between different units. -
Enum Summary Enum Description BinaryPrefix Provides support for common binary prefixes to be used by units.MetricPrefix Provides support for the 20 prefixes used in the metric system (decimal multiples and submultiples of units).Quantity.Scale -
Exception Summary Exception Description IncommensurableException Signals that a problem of some sort has occurred due to incommensurable of some quantities/units.MeasurementException Exception used to indicate a problem while dealing with units of measurement.UnconvertibleException Signals that a problem of some sort has occurred due to the impossibility of constructing a converter between two units. -
Error Summary Error Description MeasurementError This error is used to indicate serious problems with creating, retrieving and manipulating units of measurement objects.


We, the greenviroment team want to create a network for environmentalists who care for our nature and our planet as much as we do.
There are different levels you can reach through green behaviour. Collect 100 points to level up! The levels are called:
| level | {{level.levelNumber}} | level name | {{level.name}} |
|---|
There is an always growing list of things you can do, to support your environment and earn points to level up at the same time. You can get a different amount of points for differnet actions you can see in the list below:
| points | {{action.points}} | action | {{action.name}} | description | {{action.description}} |
|---|


Departmental Academic Standards for All Chemistry Programs
In addition to University and College of Arts and Sciences requirements, the following academic standards should be met by all Chemistry majors:
- Grades of “C” or better in CHEM121a and CHEM121b are required of all Chemistry majors before proceeding into any chemistry courses numbered above 199. Transfer students, upper-division students and others who have not earned a grade of “C” or better in CHEM 121 will be required to do so as a condition for being accepted as a major in Chemistry.
- No more than 8 semester hours of “D” in any science or mathematics courses may be counted toward a major in Chemistry.
Goals for Baccalaureate Students in Chemistry:
- Manifest an understanding of those fundamental chemical principles and practices suggested by the American Chemical Society Committee on Professional Training.
- Demonstrate the applicability of chemical principles and practices in the study and understanding of other fields while recognizing the unifying aspects of knowledge regardless of fields.
- Be prepared for graduate study in Chemistry and/or related professional fields.
- Be able to compete successfully for entry-level employment in chemistry or related areas.
- Be able to communicate orally and in writing about the impact of chemistry in society, historical advances in chemistry, and ethical issues in chemistry.
The Senior Assignment (Chem 499) is an opportunity for the department to assess how well these goals are met. All majors must complete:
- Students are required to present a poster (with a 10-15 minute oral presentation and defense) or a PowerPoint presentation.
- Students are encouraged to present results from their own research projects. Otherwise topics from the chemical literature may be presented.
- All topics are pre-approved by the instructor and/or the Student Standards and Assessment Committee.
- All students are expected to do library work and gather and evaluate the information obtained.
- All departmental faculty are responsible for evaluating the resulting projects.
- CHEM 499 (Senior Assignment) for zero credit hours is required for graduation.


|
Guting Paper Implementation
Implementation of paper on Optimal Divide-and-Conquer to Compute Measure and Contour for a Set of Iso-Rectangles by Ralf Hartmut Guting
|
Class representing physical rectangles. More...
#include <rectangle.hpp>
Public Member Functions | |
| Rectangle () | |
| Default Constructor. | |
| Rectangle (coord x_left, coord x_right, coord y_top, coord y_bottom) | |
| Constructor to initialize rectangle using four coordinates. More... | |
| Rectangle (Interval x_interval, Interval y_interval) | |
| Constructor to initialize rectangle using two intervals. More... | |
| Rectangle (Point top_left, Point top_right, Point bottom_left, Point bottom_right) | |
| Constructor to initialize rectangle using four points. More... | |
| bool | operator== (const Rectangle &R) const |
| Compares two Rectangle objects. More... | |
| bool | operator!= (const Rectangle &R) const |
| Compares two Rectangle objects. More... | |
| bool | operator< (const Rectangle &R) const |
| Function to order the Rectangle objects. Priority for ordering - x_left > y_bottom > x_right > y_top. More... | |
Public Attributes | |
| coord | x_left |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 coordinates (x_left, x_right, y_top, y_bottom). | |
| coord | x_right |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 coordinates (x_left, x_right, y_top, y_bottom). | |
| coord | y_top |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 coordinates (x_left, x_right, y_top, y_bottom). | |
| coord | y_bottom |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 coordinates (x_left, x_right, y_top, y_bottom). | |
| Interval | x_interval |
| Defines Rectangle using 2 Intervals (x_interval, y_interval). | |
| Interval | y_interval |
| Defines Rectangle using 2 Intervals (x_interval, y_interval). | |
| Point | top_left |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 points (top_left, top_right, bottom_left, bottom_right). | |
| Point | top_right |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 points (top_left, top_right, bottom_left, bottom_right). | |
| Point | bottom_left |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 points (top_left, top_right, bottom_left, bottom_right). | |
| Point | bottom_right |
| Defines Rectangle using 4 points (top_left, top_right, bottom_left, bottom_right). | |
Class representing physical rectangles.
Constructor to initialize rectangle using four coordinates.
| [in] | x_left | left coordinate |
| [in] | x_right | right coordinate |
| [in] | y_top | top coordinate |
| [in] | y_bottom | bottom coordinate |
Constructor to initialize rectangle using two intervals.
| [in] | x_interval | interval along x-axis |
| [in] | y_interval | interval along y-axis |
|
inline |
Constructor to initialize rectangle using four points.
| [in] | top_left | top-left point |
| [in] | top_right | top-right point |
| [in] | bottom_left | bottom-left point |
| [in] | bottom_right | bottom-right point |
|
inline |
Compares two Rectangle objects.
|
inline |
Function to order the Rectangle objects. Priority for ordering - x_left > y_bottom > x_right > y_top.
|
inline |
Compares two Rectangle objects.


The SuperUser Accounts module enables the creation and management of SuperUser accounts. SuperUsers are able to manage all sites and host settings. This Host only module is displayed on the Host > Advanced Settings > SuperUser Accounts page. SuperUsers can modify the columns that display on the SuperUser Accounts module and add new profile properties.
The SuperUser Accounts Module


Making a simple seabed world model¶
For the following tutorial, all the files can also be found in the uuv_tutorial_seabed_world package.
The seabed can be critical in simulation scenarios where the objective is, for example, to use UUVs for bathymetric mapping or just to make the scenario look more realistic.
Gazebo already has a feature to generate heightmaps from grayscale images (see the video below). This is a very quick way to setup a heightmap, but it can happen that its complexity might make the simulation run slower when trying to interact with it.
Gazebo: Heightmap Tutorial from OSRF on Vimeo.
Another option is to take an existent point cloud of a seabed and convert it into a mesh that can be imported in Gazebo like any other model.
Creating the mesh file¶
Measurement data can be sparse and have outliers that need to be removed before generating the mesh. The script below is an example on how the measurement data can be interpolated into a grid and later converted into an STL file. For this example, we will use the test surface available in the matplotlib package, but you should replace it with your own point cloud data. You will also need the packages numpy, scipy and numpy-stl.
To install the necessary packages, you can use pip
sudo apt-get install python-pip
sudo pip install numpy scipy matplotlib numpy-stl
To generate the mesh, change the code below to your needs
import numpy as np
from scipy.interpolate import griddata
import scipy.ndimage as ndimage
from scipy.ndimage import gaussian_filter
from scipy.misc import imsave
from matplotlib import cm
import matplotlib.pyplot as plt
from mpl_toolkits.mplot3d import Axes3D
from stl import mesh, Mode
import matplotlib.tri as mtri
from mpl_toolkits.mplot3d.axes3d import get_test_data
# Generating the surface
x, y, z = get_test_data(delta=0.1)
# Scale the surface for this example
z *= 0.05
# Remember that Gazebo uses ENU (east-north-up) convention, so underwater
# the Z coordinate will be negative
z -= 3
# Note: Gazebo will import your mesh in meters.
# Point clouds usually don't come in nice grids, so let's make it a (N, 3)
# matrix just to show how it can be done. If you have outliers or noise, you should
# treat those values now.
xyz = np.zeros(shape=(x.size, 3))
xyz[:, 0] = x.flatten()
xyz[:, 1] = y.flatten()
xyz[:, 2] = z.flatten()
# Generate a grid for the X and Y coordinates, change the number of points
# to your needs. Large grids can generate files that are too big for Gazebo, so
# be careful when choosing the resolution of your grid.
x_grid, y_grid = np.meshgrid(np.linspace(xyz[:, 0].min(), xyz[:, 0].max(), 300),
np.linspace(xyz[:, 1].min(), xyz[:, 1].max(), 200))
# Interpolate over the point cloud for our grid
z_grid = griddata(xyz[:, 0:2], xyz[:, 2], (x_grid, y_grid),
method='linear')
# Option to treat noise
#z_grid = gaussian_filter(z_grid, sigma=1)
# Show the resulting heightmap as an image
fig = plt.figure(figsize=(8, 6))
ax = fig.add_subplot(111)
plt.imshow(z_grid)
# Flatten our interpolated data for triangulation
output = np.zeros(shape=(x_grid.size, 3))
output[:, 0] = x_grid.flatten()
output[:, 1] = y_grid.flatten()
output[:, 2] = z_grid.flatten()
# Triangulation of the interpolated data
tri = mtri.Triangulation(output[:, 0], output[:, 1])
# Show the resulting surface
fig = plt.figure(figsize=(8, 6))
ax = fig.add_subplot(111, projection='3d')
ax.plot_trisurf(tri, output[:, 2], cmap=plt.cm.CMRmap, shade=True, linewidth=0.1)
ax.axis('equal')
# Create the mesh object
seabed_mesh = mesh.Mesh(np.zeros(tri.triangles.shape[0], dtype=mesh.Mesh.dtype))
# Set the vectors
for i, f in enumerate(tri.triangles):
for j in range(3):
seabed_mesh.vectors[i][j] = output[f[j]]
# Store the seabed as a STL file
seabed_mesh.save('seabed.stl')
plt.show()
Below you can see the resulting heightmap as an image
and the triangulated grid used for the creation of the seabed
Now a seabed.stl data has been created or you can download it here. You can open it using MeshLab or Blender. Here we will use Blender to show the surface. You can also use Blender to edit the mesh, if necessary.
Even though the surface is ready, if you import it in Gazebo as it is you might not be able to have contact forces if you hit the seabed with your robot. One way to solve it is to import the STL in Blender using the STL importer tool
and once the surface is uploaded, go to the Modifiers section of the right panel as follows
and choose the option Solidify in the Add modifier popup menu.
Enter a value for the surface’s thickness as shown below and click on the button Apply.
You can now export you surface again using the STL exporter tool. Now you need to create a SDF model description of your seabed to load it in Gazebo.
Creating the Gazebo seabed model¶
See also
For the further steps, be sure to have followed the installation instructions that can be found in this page: Installation.
To be able to load your seabed mesh in Gazebo, you need a SDF model describing it. Starting from the folder structure, let’s create a new catkin package for this world description. The folder structure below is only a suggestion based on the structure used in this package.
cd ~/catkin_ws/src
catkin_create_pkg uuv_tutorial_seabed_world
cd uuv_tutorial_seabed_world
mkdir models worlds launch
mkdir -p models/tutorial_seabed/meshes
Let’s create the files for our seabed model.
cd ~/catkin_ws/src/uuv_tutorial_seabed_world/models/tutorial_seabed
touch model.config model.sdf
Now copy the seabed.stl file into the folder uuv_tutorial_seabed_world/models/tutorial_seabed/meshes.
For the Gazebo seabed model, you will need to create the following files in your uuv_tutorial_seabed_world/models/tutorial_seabed folder. The materials used below come from UUV simulator’s materials description. You can replace them for other textures. You can change them to, for example, the default materials provided by Gazebo.
- model.config
<?xml version="1.0"?>
<!-- Copyright (c) 2016 The UUV Simulator Authors.
All rights reserved.
Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
You may obtain a copy of the License at
http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
limitations under the License.
-->
<model>
<name>Tutorial - Seabed</name>
<version>1.0</version>
<sdf version="1.5">model.sdf</sdf>
<author>
<name>John Doe</name>
<EMAIL_ADDRESS></author>
<description>
A nice seabed.
</description>
</model>
- model.sdf
<?xml version="1.0" ?>
<!-- Copyright (c) 2016 The UUV Simulator Authors.
All rights reserved.
Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
You may obtain a copy of the License at
http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
limitations under the License.
-->
<sdf version="1.5">
<model name="seabed">
<static>true</static>
<link name="seabed_link">
<visual name="surface">
<cast_shadows>false</cast_shadows>
<pose>0 0 0 0 0 0</pose>
<geometry>
<box>
<size>60 60 .1</size>
</box>
</geometry>
<material>
<script>
<uri>file://Media/materials/scripts/water.material</uri>
<name>UUVSimulator/StaticWater</name>
</script>
</material>
</visual>
<visual name="seafloor">
<pose>0 0 0 0 0 0</pose>
<geometry>
<mesh><uri>model://tutorial_seabed/meshes/seabed.stl</uri><scale>1 1 1</scale></mesh>
</geometry>
<material>
<script>
<uri>file://Media/materials/scripts/sand.material</uri>
<name>UUVSimulator/SandAndStones</name>
</script>
</material>
</visual>
<collision name="seafloor">
<pose>0 0 0 0 0 0</pose>
<geometry>
<mesh><uri>model://tutorial_seabed/meshes/seabed.stl</uri><scale>1 1 1</scale></mesh>
</geometry>
</collision>
</link>
</model>
</sdf>
Now you can configure your catkin package so that the model can be listed in Gazebo as a model. For that you’ll have to configure the package.xml and CMakeLists.txt files as in the examples below.
- CMakeLists.txt
cmake_minimum_required(VERSION 2.8.3)
project(uuv_tutorial_seabed_world)
find_package(catkin REQUIRED)
find_package(gazebo REQUIRED) # this is only required to get gazebo's directories
catkin_package()
install(DIRECTORY launch worlds models
DESTINATION ${CATKIN_PACKAGE_SHARE_DESTINATION}
PATTERN "*~" EXCLUDE)
- package.xml
For this file, be sure to have the following lines:
<buildtool_depend>catkin</buildtool_depend>
<run_depend>gazebo_ros</run_depend>
<export>
<gazebo_ros gazebo_media_path="${prefix}"
gazebo_model_path="${prefix}/models"/>
</export>
You can now build your workspace as
cd ~/catkin_ws
catkin_make
or
cd ~/catkin_ws
catkin build
if you are using catkin tools.
Now, if you open Gazebo using
roslaunch gazebo_ros empty_world.launch
and delete the ground_plane model under the Models list, and then select the Tutorial - Seabed model from the list at the Insert tab, you will be able to see the following screen
Creating a new Gazebo world¶
Now that the model is done, you can create a Gazebo world to load your scenario with the seabed model. Create a new world file as follows
roscd uuv_tutorial_seabed_world/worlds
touch example_underwater.world
and a launch file to start it
roscd uuv_tutorial_seabed_world/launch
touch tutorial_seabed_world.launch
The contents of both files can be seen below
- example_underwater.world
<?xml version="1.0" ?>
<!-- Copyright (c) 2016 The UUV Simulator Authors.
All rights reserved.
Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
You may obtain a copy of the License at
http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
limitations under the License.
-->
<sdf version="1.5">
<world name="example_underwater">
<physics name="default_physics" default="true" type="ode">
<max_step_size>0.002</max_step_size>
<real_time_factor>1</real_time_factor>
<real_time_update_rate>500</real_time_update_rate>
<ode>
<solver>
<type>quick</type>
<iters>50</iters>
<sor>0.5</sor>
</solver>
</ode>
</physics>
<scene>
<ambient>0.01 0.01 0.01 1.0</ambient>
<sky>
<clouds>
<speed>12</speed>
</clouds>
</sky>
<shadows>1</shadows>
</scene>
<!-- Global light source -->
<include>
<uri>model://sun</uri>
</include>
<include>
<uri>model://tutorial_seabed</uri>
<pose>0 0 0 0 0 0</pose>
</include>
<plugin name="underwater_current_plugin" filename="libuuv_underwater_current_ros_plugin.so">
<namespace>hydrodynamics</namespace>
<constant_current>
<topic>current_velocity</topic>
<velocity>
<mean>0</mean>
<min>0</min>
<max>5</max>
<mu>0.0</mu>
<noiseAmp>0.0</noiseAmp>
</velocity>
<horizontal_angle>
<mean>0</mean>
<min>-3.141592653589793238</min>
<max>3.141592653589793238</max>
<mu>0.0</mu>
<noiseAmp>0.0</noiseAmp>
</horizontal_angle>
<vertical_angle>
<mean>0</mean>
<min>-3.141592653589793238</min>
<max>3.141592653589793238</max>
<mu>0.0</mu>
<noiseAmp>0.0</noiseAmp>
</vertical_angle>
</constant_current>
</plugin>
<plugin name="sc_interface" filename="libuuv_sc_ros_interface_plugin.so"/>
</world>
</sdf>
- tutorial_seabed_world.launch
<launch>
<arg name="gui" default="true"/>
<arg name="paused" default="false"/>
<!-- We resume the logic in empty_world.launch, changing only the name of the world to be launched -->
<include file="$(find gazebo_ros)/launch/empty_world.launch">
<!-- Edit the name of the world file (example_underwater.world) when using this template -->
<arg name="world_name" value="worlds/example_underwater.world"/>
<arg name="paused" value="$(arg paused)"/>
<arg name="use_sim_time" value="true"/>
<arg name="gui" value="$(arg gui)"/>
<arg name="headless" value="false"/>
<arg name="debug" value="false"/>
<arg name="verbose" value="true"/>
</include>
</launch>
Now you can launch your world using
roslaunch uuv_tutorial_seabed_world tutorial_seabed_world.launch
and the result on the screen should be
Done! Now the custom seabed can be used for your simulation.


Dear user,
Welcome to Huawei Health.
The following terms in this Huawei Health Agreement (hereafter referred to as "Agreement") constitute a legally binding agreement between you and Huawei Technologies Co., Ltd. and its subsidiaries (hereafter referred to as "Huawei"). This Agreement stipulates your legal rights and responsibilities relating to the use of Huawei Health, and the relevant software, services and websites (hereafter referred to as "Service"). In this Agreement, "you" refers to any individual that uses and/or accesses this Service.
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You should already have been contacted by Scouting HQ with your access details. Please, complete the challenges that will appear below and enter all your answers carefully to move on to the next one.
Stay calm, think clearly, and most of all: good luck!


Written by
Keir
About
Hello! This blog is an experiment in creating a light-weight, simple site that can be used to share ideas and useful knowledge, mostly about Python.
While thinking about starting this project, I anticipated that simple would be better and so I started looking for site infrastructure that would be convenient to manage, free to host, and nice to look at. After looking into a number of options, I found the winning combination: GitHub Pages and Jekyll. I am using the Tale Theme, kindly developed and shared on Github by chesterhow.
And that’s it! I hope someone will find something useful here and if that’s the case, then it was all worth it!
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Feel free to create an issue or make a pull request on GitHub.
Thanks for reading!


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Central newsdesk 020 7783 8300
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News story
The annual increase in the pupil premium for schools will benefit England’s most disadvantaged pupils.
England’s most disadvantaged pupils are set to benefit from an extra £58 each after the Department for Education announced this year’s pupil premium will increase to £488.
Schools receive the extra cash for every child eligible for free school meals ( FSMs ). The money has been released because fewer-than-expected children have registered for FSMs this year.
Children’s Minister Sarah Teather said:
The pupil premium will benefit poorer pupils, providing extra money directly for those pupils who need it the most.
We know that just 27 per cent of pupils on free school meals get 5 good GCSE grades compared with 54 per cent of non-free school meal pupils. This extra funding will help tackle this inequality and enable schools to provide the extra support they need to reach their full potential.
News of the extra cash comes after ministers recently announced that the total funding available for the pupil premium in 2012 to 2013 will rise to £1.25 billion, double the amount in 2011 to 2012. It will rise again each year until 2014 to 2015 when it will be worth £2.5 billion.
Evidence shows children from low income families generally do not achieve as well as pupils from more advantaged backgrounds. Schools receive this additional funding on top of the existing school budget to support them in reaching their potential and help schools reduce educational inequalities.
Children who have been looked after by local authorities for more than 6 months also qualify for the pupil premium.
Just 12 per cent of these children achieve 5 good GCSE grades, including English and maths, and the government wants them to benefit from the extra funding through the premium.
The funding premium for children of service families will remain at £200 per pupil for 2011 to 2012.
Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg recently announced a new £50 million pupil premium summer school programme to help the most disadvantaged pupils make the transition from primary to secondary school.
The scheme will help up to 100,000 pupils per year. They will benefit from two weeks of additional teaching through the scheme.
The national, regional, local authority and school level allocations of the pupil premium for 2011 to 2012 can be found on our website .
The pupil premium for 2011 to 2012 is allocated to all pupils known to be eligible for free school meals in January 2011. The number of pupils registering in January 2011, although higher than in January 2010, was not as high as predicted when the level of the per pupil premium was announced last December. Therefore, not all funding available for the premium has so far been allocated, meaning there can be an increase in the level of the premium for all pupils. Similarly, updated figures are now available for the number of children looked after by local authorities for more than six months and service children.
The announcement on pupil premium funding for 2012 to 2013 .
The Deputy Prime Minister’s announcement on the new £50 million pupil premium summer school programme .
Central newsdesk 020 7783 8300
General enquiries 0370 000 2288
Website: www.education.gov.uk/help/contactus
Published: 12 October 2011


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AKAN BIRTHDAY FORM
This application is structed to help the Ghananian community to assign nouns to their children depending on their gender.The names are derived from the day of birth.
Date of Birth:
Month of Birth:
Year of Birth:
Choose your gender:
Male
Female
SUBMIT
All right reserved copyright @Suad


}
@******************************************************************************* * Licensed to the Apache Software Foundation (ASF) under one or more * * contributor license agreements. See the NOTICE file distributed with * * this work for additional information regarding copyright ownership. * * The ASF licenses this file to You under the Apache License, Version 2.0 * * (the "License"); you may not use this file except in compliance with * * the License. You may obtain a copy of the License at * * * * http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0 * * * * Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software * * distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS, * * WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied. * * See the License for the specific language governing permissions and * * limitations under the License. * *******************************************************************************@ @(user: User, userForm: play.data.Form[User], users: List[User], viewerId: String, postsAndComments: List[PostAndComments], popular: List[Post], follow:Int) @import util.TimeConvert


The Quote Machine
Find inspiration and worldly knowledge, with quotes from some of the worlds greatest thinkers.
Author:
New Quote


{% extends "layout.html" %} {% block title %} README {% endblock %} {% block section %}
A huge thank you to Professor Xiyin and Lexie for a wonderful semester! You guys are the best :)


INSTRUCTIONS
- There are a total of 5 questions
- Each question is compulsory
- Every question has 4 options, out of which only 1 is correct
- For every correct answer, 10 points are awarded
- There is no negative marking
- Once answered, it can not be modified and the next question will be displayed immediately
- A correct answer is indicated by a green colour, while an incorrect answer is indicated by a red colour
- A progress bar is displayed on the top left, which indicates the number of questions answered
- The score obtained is displayed on the top right, which indicates the score obtained till the point
- Once all the questions are answered, the final score is displayed
- .......
- >> ALL THE BEST <<
Click to Play


Organization Made Easy.
Promoting your business and services with Better Professor:
User Accounts
Unique user accounts can be created with custom design capabilities unique to your university!
Direct Messaging
Students and Staff accounts can communicate openly to one another without any restrictions.
Unique Profiler
Create a custom user space to show off your latest projects, and communicate with your following!


Game is simple:
- Remember order of color tiles
- Restore order after shufling
- More options in settings


The AXEL Framework is designed to run in a Java Web Server such as Tomcat or Application Server such as WebLogic. When it has been installed and configured it will service selective file types that are requested from a browser.
These are the file types that are usually serviced by AXEL
The installation also includes the spring framework which is used to construct an Execution Context, property settings, language settings, theme settings and any other configuration items you need for your application.
The following is an example web.xml configuration for the AXEL Servlet and used by this application.
A pre processor page can be used to setup configuration items, validate users and other such functions required before any page processing begins. The pre processor page will be applied to all page types that have been defined in the servlet-mapping configurations. Define the name of the pre processing page by setting the file page name in the Pager Servlet configuration as shown below.
<init-param> <param-name>pager.pre.page</param-name> <param-value>pre.page.html</param-value> </init-param>In the above example definition the pre.page.html is the file name of the pre processor page.
The spring configuration is setup in the web.xml from the file classpath:/config/spring/spring-pager-web-startup.xml. This is used to setup the Application Execution Context commonly known as execContext. All beans stored here are available to the AXEL Actions.