by Robert T. Bakker. Her name is Raptor Red, and she is a female Raptor dinosaur. Painting a rich and colorful picture of a lush prehistoric world, leading paleontologist Robert T. Bakker tells his story from within Raptor Red's extraordinary mind, dramatizing his revolutionary. Raptor Red is a American novel by paleontologist Robert T. Bakker. The book is a third-person account of dinosaurs during the Cretaceous Period, told. Raptor El Rojo es una novela americana de escrita por el paleontólogo Robert T. Bakker. . Una pelea estalla entre el raptor varón y la hermana de Red .

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    Raptor Red Click This Link To Download: Language: English #ebook #full #read #pdf #online #kindle #epub #mobi. Raptor red. byRobert T. Bakker. Publication date For print-disabled users. Borrow this book to access EPUB and PDF files. Raptor Red by Robert T. Bakker - A stunning debut in the blockbuster tradition of Jurassic Park -- enhanced with dramatic sound effects.A pair of fierce but.

    Utah, million years B. April, in early spring, the giant raptors have wandered thousands of miles from Mongolia, across the temporary land bridge up the far north, connecting Asia and North America, there is also another bridge from the other direction, Europe, to Greenland, to Canada, a new age has begun. The mix of strange species, never seen here before, are arriving, only the tough will survive the competition, those who will adapt, the unlucky, disappear. Dinosaurs and other animals, live warily a few miles apart, on the floodplains, in an area with the constant danger of waters from heavy rains, overflowing the terrain, drowning and destroying everything in their path, unstoppable, of what will be the state of Utah, someday. Raptor Red, the Utahraptor, over twenty- feet -long, six high and weighting 1, pounds, hatched from an egg, in a nest, bird -like, her two front claws are knives, able to penetrate the hardest hides, take down dinosaurs much bigger than she, very brave but does not take silly chances, her red mark on the snout, gives the animal, a distinct appearance, to the new species all have it , many times bigger than the previous ones. Tragedy, she loses her smaller mate, an accident in a muddy hole, having slaughtered a huge, plant -eating Astrodon much heavier by tons , yet no match for Raptor Red as we will call her and her mate. She grieves in her way , staying for a day before leaving, a white, ancient, bored Pterodactyl, 60 years old with a twenty -foot wingspan, flying high above, soaring and diving, doing acrobatics and cheerfully scattering dinosaurs below, biting them, the king of the sky, other flying creatures respect his preeminence. The flying reptile, lives much longer than dinosaurs, for some unknown reason, he has chosen Raptor Red as a sort of pet, showing where dead meat is, warning of dangerous predators nearby, for years, besides he can eat the leftovers, his weak beak not able to cut open a dead animal's hide A nice surprise, Raptor Red finds her long -lost sister, taking care of her three, fast- growing, but always rambunctious, hungry chicks, now it will be much easier to hunt, the pair together are very successful. Still the erratic, jealous sister's mood swings, cause a lot of tension in the pack, especially when Raptor Red gets another consort, it is mating season and her biological urges need satisfaction, she wants a family of her own

    Taylor was violently swung around, and she looked up into the glowing eyes of a tall raptor. The eyes would have looked perfect on a demon, but there was something especially cold and calculating about the way this alien watched them. He spoke in more grunts to the guards, both of whom hung their heads. If Taylor had to guess, she'd say these guys just got their asses handed to them. Her gut cramped. She guessed her and Devlin's show hadn't been quite good enough.

    And you will give me what I want. Most of the raptors were just foot soldiers. They plowed into a battle without too much strategy or thought. But some of the aliens were smart. And they were the dangerous ones. His gaze narrowed on her. He reached out and grabbed her necklace. With a hard yank, he tore it off her, the charms at the end of it tinkling together. Her parents had given her the charms.

    After she'd joined the Army, she couldn't wear a bracelet, so she'd had them put on a chain. It was the one thing she had from her life before the invasion that meant something. Her mother had selected most of those charms for her. She snatched at it, one charm coming off in her hand. The raptor shoved her back a step, studying her necklace. She quickly slipped the charm she'd snatched into her pocket before he noticed.

    Then he shoved her necklace into his trouser pocket. Raptors all left their gray, scaled chests bare, but wore armor-like trousers and heavy boots on their bottom halves. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding something else. He held out his palm. Several flat, black patches rested on his scaled skin.

    Taylor frowned. What the hell were they? As she peered closer, one of the patches moved. The aliens' technology had a lot of organic features built into it, and most of it was pretty gross. The Doctor yanked her closer. She dug her bare feet into the stone floor. She didn't want to touch those wriggly black things. The raptor held up one of the patches, bringing it toward her. Horror flooded her veins. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Devlin surge against the raptors holding him.

    That wiggling black patch moved closer to the skin of her shoulder. Suddenly, there was the sound of a scuffle. Devlin broke free and jabbed an elbow in the throat of one raptor, who gasped for air. Then he jammed a punch into the stomach of the second alien. But as the first raptor clutched his throat, making a horrible rasping sound, Devlin's punch barely affected the hard muscle of the second.

    The second raptor punched Devlin in the chest, hard. Devlin slammed into the wall, his face contorted in pain. The raptor smiled and stepped closer. The pained look vanished from Devlin's face.

    He circled the raptor, jamming hard hits against the alien's back. As the alien stumbled and shouted, Devlin yanked a jagged knife from the raptor's belt and slammed it between his opponent's shoulder blades. She'd seen him fight before, and his quick, lethal fighting style took her breath away. But this time, he was fighting to help her. Something bloomed inside her. Long ago, Taylor had once been helpless, with no one to fight for her. She'd grown up ensuring she could fight for herself, but that didn't mean seeing someone risk themselves for her wasn't damn touching.

    As the dead raptor fell to the floor, Devlin pulled the knife out and spun. He advanced on the second raptor who was still gasping for breath. The second raptor attacked. He slammed a hard punch into Devlin's head, driving him to his knees. The raptor blade fell from his hand, clattering on the floor, and broke in two. The raptor followed with another hard blow that snapped Devlin's head back.

    Taylor tasted bile in her mouth, never taking her eyes off Devlin. He knelt there, dazed. She could see some swelling and bruising starting around his left eye.

    The Doctor moved again, and slapped one of the black patches just below her collarbone. Fiery pain dug into Taylor. She grimaced. It was like being stuck with a hot knife. She looked down and saw the black patch moving, sucking onto her skin, and she could feel some part of it burrowing into her skin. A cry escaped her lips. He stared at her-direct and intense-like he was willing the pain away from her and into himself. That composed gaze steadied her. After a minute, the pain subsided.

    Devlin didn't fight when the Doctor moved toward him with the final patches. The other raptor held Devlin's arm tight. As the Doctor pressed the patches to Devlin's bronze chest, he gritted his teeth and made no sound. This was Devlin Gray. Cool strength. Dan kunt u hieronder een account aanmaken. It will be available in markets Vietnam, Indonesia, UK and USA Its catalytic converter shielded by a belly pan indicates superior emission compliance and is clear proof that the bike is not just for Asia.

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    Only 1 left in stock more on the Honda Monkey Engine and Transmission. It had easily detachable forks, so you could throw it in the trunk of your car or strap it to the back of your RV. They drove back to the Institute. The following day, she went back to Africa. During the next eighteen months, she had a rough sense of Levine's progress, since from time to time he called her with some question about field protocols, or vehicle tires, or the best anaesthetic to use on animals in.

    Sometimes she got a call from Doc Thorne, who was building the vehicles. He usually sounded harassed. From Malcolm she heard nothing at all, although he sent her a card on her birthday. It arrived a month late.

    He had scrawled at the bottom, "Have a happy birthday. Be glad you're nowhere near him. He's driving me crazy. The last of the fishing villages had flashed by beneath them ten minutes ago.

    Now there was only impenetrable Costa Rican jungle, mangrove swamps, and mile after mile of deserted sand. Sitting beside the pilot, Marty, Guitierrez stared out the window as the coastline swept past. There weren't even any roads in this area, at least none that Guitierrez could see.

    Guitierrez was a quiet, bearded American of thirty-six, a field biologist who had lived for the last eight years in Costa Rica.

    He clicked the radio mike and said to the pilot, "How much farther? He merely sat, with his hand on his chin, and stared frowning out the window. Richard Levine wore sun-faded field khakis, and an Australian slouch hat pushed low over his head. A battered pair of binoculars hung around his neck. But despite his rugged appearance, Levine conveyed an air of scholarly absorption.

    Behind his wire-frame spectacles, his features were sharp, his expression intense and critical as he looked out the window. Only about fifty miles from the border with Panama. They took one look at the thing, and ran like hell. With his long limbs folded up, his hands tucked under his chin, he looked like a praying mantis. That had been his nickname in graduate school; in part because of his appearance - and in part because of his tendency to bite off the head of anyone who disagreed with him.

    Guitierrez said, "Been to Costa Rica before? First time," Levine said. And then he gave an irritable wave of his hand, as 'if he didn't want to be bothered with small talk.

    Guitierrez smiled. After all these years, Levine had not changed at all. He was still one of the most brilliant and irritating men in science. The two had been fellow graduate Students at Yale, until Levine quit the doctoral program to get his degree in comparative zoology instead. Levine announced he had no interest in the kind of contemporary field research that so attracted Guitierrez. With characteristic contempt, he had once described Guitierrez's work as "collecting parrot crap from around the world.

    And he studied this world with obsessive intensity. He was famous for his photographic memory, his arrogance, his sharp tongue, and the unconcealed pleasure he took in pointing out the errors of colleagues. As a colleague once said, "Levine never forgets a bone - and he never lets you forget it, either. He was at heart a man of detail, a cataloguer of animal life, and he was happiest poring over museum collections, reassigning species, rearranging display skeletons.

    He disliked the dust and inconvenience of life in the field. Given his choice, Levine would never leave the Museum. But it was his fate to live in the greatest period of discovery in the history of paleontology. The number of known species of dinosaurs had doubled in the last twenty years, and new species were now being described at the rate of one every seven weeks, Thus Levine's worldwide reputation forced him to continually travel around the World, inspecting new finds, and rendering his expert opinion to researchers who were annoyed to admit that they needed it.

    What's there? He found an incomplete skeleton he thought might be a new species of Velociraptor, and wanted me to have a look. It's the truth. As for the skull And the trenchant ungual's hardly present. So there we are. I don't know what Roxton could have been thinking. I suspect he actually has a subspecies of Stenonychosaurus, though I haven't decided for sure.

    In point of fact, a rather ordinary theropod. And Roxton's find wasn't a particularly interesting example. Although there was one curious detail. The material included an integtimental artifact - an imprint of the dinosaur's skin. That in itself is not rare. There are perhaps a dozen good skin impressions obtained so far, mostly among the Hadrosauridae.

    But nothing like this. They were flying over jungle that extended up into the hills for miles, as far as they could see. The helicopter banked, circling the beach. The beach was a clean, curving white crescent, entirely deserted in the afternoon light. To the south, they saw a single dark mass in the sand. From the air, it looked like a rock, or perhaps a large clump of seaweed.

    The shape was amorphous, about five feet across. There were lots of footprints around it. You should never have let them near 'it, Marty. I did the best I could. They wanted to destroy it before you even got here. At least I managed to keep it intact until you arrived. Although I don't know how long they'll wait. He pressed the button on his mike.

    We're losing light. Get down on the beach now. I want to see this thing firsthand. Even from a distance, he could smell the stench of decay.

    And already he was logging his preliminary impressions. The carcass lay half-buried in the sand, surrounded by a thick cloud of flies. The skin was bloated with gas, which made identification difficult.

    He paused a few yards from the creature, and took out his camera. Immediately, the pilot of the helicopter came up alongside him, pushing his hand down.

    No pictures arc allowed. He turned to Guitierrez, who was trotting down the beach toward them. This could be an important - " "No pictures," the pilot said again, and he pulled the camera out of Levine's hand. Levine watched a moment, then turned away. The hell with this, he thought. They could argue forever. He hurried forward, breathing through his mouth. The odor became much stronger as he approached it.

    Although the carcass was large he noticed there were no birds, rats, or other scavengers feeding on it. There were only flies - flies so dense they covered the skin, and obscured the outline of the dead animal.

    Even so, it was clear that this had been a substantial creature, roughly the size of a cow or horse before the bloat began to enlarge it further. The dry skin had cracked in the sun and was now peeling upward, exposing the layer of runny, yellow subdermal fat beneath.

    Oof, it stunk! Levine winced. He forced himself closer, directing all his attention to the animal. Although it was the size of a cow, it was clearly not a mammal. The skin was hairless. The original skin color appeared to have been green, with a suggestion of darker striations running through it. The epidermal surface was pebbled in polygonal tubercles of varying sizes, the pattern reminiscent of the skin of a lizard. This texture varied in different parts of the animal, the pebbling larger and less distinct on the underbelly.

    There were prominent skin folds at the neck, shoulder, and hip joints - again, like a lizard. But the carcass was large. Levine estimated the animal had originally weighed about a hundred kilograms, roughly two hundred and twenty pounds, No lizards grew that large anywhere in the world, except the Komodo dragons of Indonesia. Varanus komodoensis were nine-foot-long monitor lizards, crocodile-size carnivores that ate goats and pigs, and on occasion human beings as well.

    But there were no monitor lizards anywhere in the New World. Of course, it was conceivable that this was one of the Iguanidae. Iguanas were found all over South America, and the marine iguanas grew quite large. Even so, this would be a record-size animal. Levine moved slowly around the carcass, toward the front of the animal. No, he thought, it wasn't a lizard. The carcass lay on its side, its left rib cage toward the sky.

    Nearly half of it was buried; the row of protruberances that marked the dorsal spinous processes of the backbone were just a few inches above the sand. The long neck was curved, the head hidden beneath the bulk of the body like a duck's head under feathers.

    Levine saw one forelimb, which seemed small and weak. The distal appendage was buried in sand. He would dig that out and have a look at it, but he wanted to take pictures before he disturbed the specimen in situ. In fact, the more Levine saw of this carcass, the more carefully he thought he should proceed. Because one thing was clear - this was a very rare, and possibly unknown, animal. Levine felt simultaneously excited and cautious. If this discovery was as significant as he was beginning to think it was, then it was essential that it be properly documented.

    Up the beach, Guitierrez was still shouting at the pilot, who kept shaking his head stubbornly. These banana-republic bureaucrats, Levine thought.

    Why shouldn't he take pictures? It couldn't harm anything. And it was vital to document the changing state of the creature. He heard a thumping, and looked up to see a second helicopter circling the bay, its dark shadow sliding across the sand.

    This helicopter was ambulance-white, with red lettering on the side. In the glare of the setting sun, he couldn't read it. He turned back to the carcass, noticing now that the hind leg of the animal was powerfully muscled, very different from the foreleg.

    It suggested that this creature walked upright, balanced on strong hind legs. Many lizards were known to stand upright, of course, but none so large as this. In point of fact, as Levine looked at the general shape of the carcass, he felt increasingly certain that this was not a lizard. He worked quickly now, for the light was fading and he had much to do. With every specimen, there were always two major questions to answer, both equally important.

    First, what was the animal? Second, why had it died? Standing by the thigh, he saw the epidermis was split open, no doubt from the gaseous subcutaneous buildup. But as Levine looked more closely, he saw that the split was in fact a sharp gash, and that it ran deep through the femorotibialis, exposing red muscle and pale bone beneath.

    He ignored the stench, and the white maggots that wriggled across the open tissues of the gash, because he realized that "Sorry about all this," Guitierrez said, coming over. I tried my best. Men in uniforms began getting out. What do you think this animal is?

    It's extremely large, of course, and obviously not native to Costa Rica. My guess is this animal came from the Galdpagos, or one of the - " "No, Marty," Levine said. Nobody's quite sure why. Perhaps it's due to the cutting of the rain forest, or some other reason. But new species are appearing. Several years ago, I began to see unidentified species of - " "Marty. It's not a damn lizard.

    Of course it's a lizard.

    Jennings, Gary - Raptor

    Guitierrez said, "You're probably just thrown off because of its size. The fact is, here in Costa Rica, we occasionally encounter these aberrant forms - " "Marty," Levine said coldly.

    He turned back to the carcass. He peered at the back of the thigh. Levine peered steadily at the carcass. They carried tanks on their backs, and were shouting in Spanish. Guitierrez sighed. But the men kept shouting, and suddenly there was a roaring sound, and Levine looked up to see flamethrowers igniting, big red jets of flame roaring out in the evening light. He ran around the carcass toward the men, shouting, "No! He shouted, "No, this is a priceless - " The first of the uniformed men grabbed Levine, and threw him roughly to the sand.

    But even as he said it, he saw it was too late, the first of the flames had reached the carcass, blackening the skin, igniting the pockets of methane with a blue whump! The smoke from the carcass began to rise thickly into the sky. Stop it! Consumed by flames, the torso crackled and the fat sputtered, and then as the skin burned away, the black, flat ribs of the skeleton were revealed, and then the whole torso turned, and suddenly the neck of the animal swung up, surrounded by flames, moving as the skin contracted.

    And inside the flames Levine saw a long pointed snout, and rows of sharp predatory teeth, and hollow eye sockets, the whole thing burning like some medieval dragon rising in flames up into the sky. Guitierrez sat beside him at a small table, not saying much.

    An awkward silence had fallen for the last few minutes. Guitierrez stared at Levine's backpack, on the floor by his feet. It was specially constructed of dark-green Gore-Tex, with extra pockets on the outside for all the electronic gear. Looks like a Thorne pack. And a GPS? Boy, what won't they think of next. Pretty slick. Must have cost you a - " "Marty," Levine said, in an exasperated tone.

    Are you going to tell me, or not? I don't understand why you let it happen. He looked around at the tourists at the other tables and said, "This has to be in confidence, okay? It's been going on for several years now. It started about five years ago. A number of animals were discovered up in the mountains, near a remote agricultural station that was growing test varieties of soy beans. Guitierrez nodded. The assumption is that they have a great need for the amino acid lysine in their diets.

    But nobody is really sure. Perhaps they just have a taste for certain crops - " "Marty," Levine said. The only important question is: where did the animals come from?

    Levine let that pass, for the moment. And to my knowledge, no others were found for years afterward. But now it seems to be starting again. In the last year, we have found the remains of four more animals, including the one you saw today. Just as you saw. From the beginning, the government's taken every possible step to make sure nobody finds out about it.

    A few years back, some North American journalists began reporting there was something wrong on one island, Isla Nublar. They never knew the difference. Stuff like that. I mean, the government's very serious about this. Why should they be worried about - " Guitierrez held up his hand, shifted in his chair, moved closer.

    Costa Rica has one of the best health-care systems in the world," Guitierrez said. Of what origin? Nobody knows. It's not a virus, because antibody titres don't go up, and whitecell differentials don't change.

    It's not bacterial, because nothing has ever been cultered. It's a complete mystery. All the epidemiologists know is that it seems to affect primarily rural farmers: people who are around animals and livestock.

    And it's a true encephalitis-splitting headaches, mental confusion, fever, delirium. But even so it's got the government worried. This country is dependent on tourism, Richard. Nobody wants talk of unknown diseases. So it's not unreasonable, there might be a connection.

    They think it's related. Surely they must have searched They've gone over every square inch of this country, again and again. They've sent out dozens of search parties - I've led several myself. They've done aerial surveys. They've had overflights of the jungle. They've had overflights of the offshore islands. That in itself is a big job.

    There are quite a few islands, you know, particularly along the west coast. Hell, they've even searched the ones that are privately owned. Three or four. Nothing there. There's Sorna, on the west coast; it's leased to a German mining company.

    Michael Crichton - The Lost World

    And there's Morazan, up north; it's actually owned by a wealthy Costa Rican family. And there may be another island I've forgotten about. So the assumption is that the animals are coming from some location deep in the jungle. And that's why we haven't been able to find it so far. A search party could pass within ten yards of a large animal and never see it. And even the most advanced remote sensing technology doesn't help much, because there are multiple layers to penetrate-clouds, tree canopy, lower-level flora.

    There's just no way around it: almost anything could be hiding in the rain forest. Anyway," he said, "the government's frustrated. And, of course, the government is not the only interested party. For some reason, there's been a lot of interest in these animals. The survey had been going on for a month when a dispute arose a bill for aviation fuel, or something like that.

    And Berkeley said they'd never heard of this survey team. Meantime, the team fled the country. Then last winter, a couple of Swiss geologists showed up to collect gas samples from offshore islands, as part of a study, they said, of volcanic activity in Central America.

    The offshore islands are all volcanic, and most of them are still active to some degree, so it seemed like a reasonable request. But it turned out the 'geologists' really worked for an American genetics company called Biosyn, and they were looking for, uh, large animals on the islands. Their head of research is a guy named Lewis Dodgson. He's the guy who ran that rabies vaccine test in Chile a few years back.

    The one where they exposed farmers to rabies but didn't tell them they were doing it. He also started test-marketing a genetically engineered potato in supermarkets without telling anybody they were altered. Gave kids low-grade diarrhea; couple of them ended up in the hospital. After that, the company had to hire George Baselton to fix their image. It's part of the deal.

    And Baselton is Regis Professor of Biology. The company needed him to clean up their mess, because Dodgson has a habit of breaking the law.

    Dodgson has people on his payroll all around the world. Steals other companies' research, the whole bit. They say Biosyn's the only genetics company with more lawyers than scientists. Guitierrez shrugged. It's very noticeable here. Costa Rica has one of the richest ecologies in the world. Half a million species in twelve distinct environmental habitats.

    Five percent of all the species on the planet are represented here. This country has been a biological research center for years, and I can tell you, things have changed. In the old days, the people who came here were dedicated scientists with a passion to learn about something for its own sake-howler monkeys, or polistine wasps, or the sombrilla plant. These people had chosen their field because they cared about it.

    They certainly weren't going to get rich. But now, everything in the biosphere is potentially valuable. Nobody knows where the next drug is coming from, so drug companies fund all sorts of research.

    Maybe a bird egg has a protein that makes it waterproof. Maybe a spider produces a peptide that inhibits blood clotting. Maybe the waxy surface of a fern contains a painkiller. It happens often enough that attitudes toward research have changed. People aren't studying the natural world any more, they're mining it.

    It's a looter mentality. Anything new or unknown is automatically of interest, because it might have value. It might be worth a fortune.

    And the fact is that a lot of people want to know what these aberrant animals represent - and where they come from. Both men stood up from the table. Guiitierrez said, "You'll keep all this to yourself?

    I mean, what you saw today. It could have been anything. He turned to wave goodbye to Guitierrez, but his friend was already heading out the door, raising his arm to wave for a taxi. Levine shrugged, turned back. Directly ahead was the Customs desk, travelers lined up to have their passports stamped.

    He was booked on a night flight to San Francisco, with a long stopover in Mexico City; not many people were queuing up. He probably had time to call his office, and leave word for his secretary, Linda, that he would be on the flight; and perhaps, he thought, he should also call Malcolm. He had better use the satellite phone in his backpack, he thought, as he swung the pack off his shoulder, and perhaps it would beHe paused, frowning.

    He looked back at the wall. Four people were using the phones. The first was a blonde woman in shorts and a halter top, bouncing a young sunburned child in her arms as she talked. Next to her stood a bearded man in a safari jacket, who glanced repeatedly at his gold Rolex watch. Then there was a grayhaired, grandmotherly woman talking in Spanish, while her two fullgrown sons stood by, nodding emphatically. And the last person was the helicopter pilot.

    He had removed his uniform jacket, and was standing in short sleeves and tie.

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    He was turned away, facing the wall, shoulders hunched. Levine moved closer, and heard the pilot speaking in English. Levine set his pack down and beiit over it, pretending to adjust the straps while he listened.

    The pilot was still turned away from him. He heard the pilot say, "No, no, Professor. It is not that way. Then there was a pause. I am sorry, Professor Baselton, but this is not known, It is an island, but which one We must wait again for more.

    No, he leaves tonight. No, I think he does not know anything, and no pictures. I understand. Levine ducked his head as the pilot walked briskly toward the LACSA desk at the other end of the airport. What the hell? It is an island, but which one How did they know it was an island? Levine himself was still not sure of that. And he had been working intensively on these finds, day and night, trying to put it together. Where they had come from. Why it was happening. He walked around the corner, out of sight, and pulled out the little satellite phone.

    He dialed it quickly, calling a number in San Francisco. The call went through, rapidly clicking as it linked with the satellite. It began to ring. There was a beep. An electronic voice said, "Please enter your access code.

    There was another beep. The electronic voice said, "Leave your message. Single specimen, not in good shape.

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