Altair Quotes

You'll have me. No matter how thick the night, I will always be there to light your way.

Only a mind free of impediment is capable of grasping the chaotic beauty of the world. This is our greatest asset.

It is not our right to punish one for thinking as he does, no matter how much we disagree.

Our lives are so brief and unimportant. The cosmos cares nothing for us. For what we've done; Had we wrought evil instead of good. Had I chosen to abuse the Apple instead of seal it away. None of it would have mattered. There is no counting. No reckoning. No final judgement. There is simply silence. And darkness. Utter and absolute... -Altair

What is the truth?’ he asked. ‘We place faith in ourselves,’ replied Altaïr (...) ‘We see the world as it really is, and hope that one day all mankind might see the same.’ ‘What is the world, then?’ ‘An illusion,’ replied Altaïr. ‘One we can either submit to – as most do – or transcend.’ ‘And what is it to transcend?’ 'To recognize that laws arise not from divinity, but reason. I understand now that our Creed does not command us to be free.’ And suddenly he really did understand. ‘It commands us to be wise

It is one thing to have a mind that is open. It is quite another to have one so open that the birds can shit into it.

I’m just reminding myself aloud that he’s Altair and he can handle himself. He could talk so much the Lion would beg us to take him back. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left the bumbling fool somewhere with a sign saying ‘He’s all yours.

Altair adjusted his turban, a gleam in his eyes. 'I'm big enough to keep anyone busy for a while.' Nasir gagged and Kifah sputtered.

These bits of paper are covered with lies. They poison your minds. And so long as they exist, you cannot hope to see the world as it truly is.(...)You turn to them for answers and salvation. (...) You rely more upon them than upon yourselves. This makes you weak and stupid. You trust in words. Drops of ink. Do you ever stop to think of who put them there? Or why? No. You simply accept their words without question. And what if those words speak falsely, as they often do? This is dangerous.

They do not learn, fixed in their ways as they are. You are naïve to think otherwise. It’s an illness, Assassin, for which there is but one cure.’ ‘You’re wrong. And that’s why you must be put to rest.’ ‘Am I not unlike those precious books you seek to save? A source of knowledge with which you disagree? Yet you’re rather quick to steal my life.’ ‘A small sacrifice to save many. It is necessary.

All that time away, and you’re still shorter than me,” Altair remarked from the shadows. “How was the performance? Do you think my baba was pleased?

Well,” Altair said with forced cheer. “It’s just the two of us again, and my, what a couple we make.” Nasir gifted him a look that could wither crops. “Keep up your endless yipping and only one of us will be left.

Altair snorted water, choking until the Huntress thwacked him on the back. “Enough,” Benyamin said, smoothing out his bedroll. “Kifah, you’re keeping watch.” “Your wish is my insomnia,” the warrior said with a salute.

That last thought was what made Nasir nudge Altair’s bare bicep with the toe of his boot. Altair’s right eye popped open instantly and Nasir clenched his jaw—he should have known. “For a moment, I thought you might do it,” Altair said. “Do what?” the girl asked. She yawned as she brushed her teeth with a siwak. Altair’s mouth curled into a grin. “Kiss me.” Nasir kicked him, and Altair’s laughter only increased.

I jabbed Caleb under his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Altair, fuck what the crowd thinks. I don't care if you're into bondage with leprechauns, leave that shit off the pitch, you got it?

I know the stars by their names, Aldebaran, Altair, And I know the path they take Up heaven's broad blue stair. I know secrets of men By the look of their eyes, Their gray thoughts, their strange thoughts Have made me sad and wise. But your eyes are dark to me Though they seem to call and call– I cannot tell if you love me Or do not love me at all. I know many things, But the years come and go, I shall die not knowing The thing I long to know.

If it were worth the while to settle in those parts near to the Pleiades or the Hyades, to Aldebaran or Altair, then I was really there, or at an equal remoteness from the life which I had left behind, dwindled and twinkling with as fine a ray to my nearest neighbor, and to be seen only in moonless nights by him. Such was that part of creation where I had squatted;

Steel hissed as Altair drew his scimitars without a care for quiet. Both of his scimitars, Nasir noted in surprise. Healed so soon.

Max Rigel,” (the dark skinned demi-god). “Caleb Altair,” (the blonde haired beaux next door), “Darius Acrux,” (my sin-filled fantasy). “And Seth Capella,” (the long haired lothario). “This is Gwendalina and Roxanya Vega-

I was fucking privileged to be Caleb Altair’s friend, and if that was all we were ever destined to be then that was enough for me. Because I’d spent most of my life loving the moon without ever resting a paw on its surface. So Caleb would be my new moon, my unreachable love hanging over me in the sky. And I would show up to watch it night after night with no resentment in my heart, just a lone Wolf on a mountain, trying to get close enough to bathe in its light.

I know the stars by their names, Aldebaran, Altair, And I know the path they take Up heaven's broad blue stair. I know the secrets of men By the look of their eyes, Their gray thoughts, their strange thoughts Have made me sad and wise.

The harbinger of a revolution, the Altair was the first mass-marketed personal computer. For the first time a computer was dedicated not just to a single task but to one person. The old guard of computing entirely missed the significance of this.

Even a beast is capable of love. Of being loved," she countered "The Lion made your father cruel. Necessity made your mother lie. Pain fueled Kulsum's manipulation. No matter what Altair has become now, he loved you before. Kifah loves you. I-" He stilled. He didn't even dare draw breath.

My throat thickened as I accepted what he was implying. Ally equalled friend. And I didn’t know why I’d expected him to say something different. I realised I didn’t really care in that moment though. I was fucking privileged to be Caleb Altair’s friend, and if that was all we were ever destined to be then that was enough for me. Because I’d spent most of my life loving the moon without ever resting a paw on its surface. So Caleb would be my new moon, my unreachable love hanging over me in the sky. And I would show up to watch it night after night with no resentment in my heart, just a lone Wolf on a mountain, trying to get close enough to bathe in its light.

The name typically translates into an anatomical part of the constellation being described. Famous ones on the list (along with their loose translations) include: Rigel (Al Rijl, “foot”) and Betelgeuse (Yad al Jauza, “hand of the great one”—in modern times drawn as the armpit), the two brightest stars in the constellation Orion; Altair (At-Ta’ir, “the flying one”), the brightest star in the constellation Aquila, the eagle; and the variable star Algol (Al-Ghul, “the ghoul”), the second brightest star in the constellation Perseus, referring to the blinking eye of the bloody severed head of Medusa held aloft by Perseus.

Eat your lies, Lion. Ghameq had only one son.” Nasir knew this for a fact, as certain as the wisps of darkness that spun from his fingers. As certain as the burn beneath his collarbone. He was darkness. He was adrift in the desert, lost to himself. “Perhaps.” The Lion tilted his head, enjoying this. “But your mother had two.” Three forms stepped from the corridor. Two ifrit, one man. Blood oozed from the man’s lip. His muscled arms glistened with sweat, and his golden hair stood out like a blaze. Hair Nasir had never seen without a turban. A turban that had obscured the elongated points of his ears. He lifted a feeble smile, and Nasir’s heart faltered once more. “Peace unto you, little brother,” said Altair.

The best of summer star-gazing is that it is warm enough to fling yourself upon your back and gaze up at the starts without craning the neck. In a short time the sense of intimacy with the stars is established, as it never can be when a man stands erect. You may even lose the sense of gazing up, and enjoy the exciting sensation of gazing *down* into the deep wells of space. Indeed, this is quite as correct as to say that we gaze upward at the stars. In reality there is no up or down in the universe. You are, in point of fact, a creature perpetually hung over the yawning abyss of Everywhere, suspended over it by our tiny terrestrial gravity which clamps you to the side of mother earth while you gaze down on Vega and Deneb and Arcturus and Altair whirling below you.

home in Pahrump, Nevada, where he played the penny slot machines and lived off his social security check. He later claimed he had no regrets. “I made the best decision for me at the time. Both of them were real whirlwinds, and I knew my stomach and it wasn’t ready for such a ride.” •  •  • Jobs and Wozniak took the stage together for a presentation to the Homebrew Computer Club shortly after they signed Apple into existence. Wozniak held up one of their newly produced circuit boards and described the microprocessor, the eight kilobytes of memory, and the version of BASIC he had written. He also emphasized what he called the main thing: “a human-typable keyboard instead of a stupid, cryptic front panel with a bunch of lights and switches.” Then it was Jobs’s turn. He pointed out that the Apple, unlike the Altair, had all the essential components built in. Then he challenged them with a question: How much would people be willing to pay for such a wonderful machine? He was trying to get them to see the amazing value of the Apple. It was a rhetorical flourish he would use at product presentations over the ensuing decades. The audience was not very impressed. The Apple had a cut-rate microprocessor, not the Intel 8080. But one important person stayed behind to hear more. His name was Paul Terrell, and in 1975

I thought I saw you scurrying in here hubby-kins!” A girl in a vivid orange dress stepped into the room and I had to look up at her towering height and shoulders which nearly matched the breadth of the Heirs'. Her teeth protruded a little from her lower jaw and her eyes seemed to wander, never landing on one spot. Her hair was a massive brown frizz with a pink bow clipped into the top of it, perfectly matching the violently bright shade of her eyeshadow. She marched between Tory and I like we were made of paper, forcing us aside with her elbows as she charted a direct path for Darius. “Mildred,” he said tersely, his eyes darkening as his bride-to-be reached out to him. Caleb, Seth and Max sniggered as Mildred leaned in for a kiss and Darius only managed to stop her at the last second by planting his palm on her forehead with a loud clap. “Not before the wedding,” he said firmly and I looked at Tory who was falling into a fit of silent laughter, clutching her side. I tried to smother the giggle that fought its way out of my chest but it floated free and Mildred rounded on us like a hungry animal. “These must be the Vega Twins,” she said coldly. “Well don't waste your time sniffing around my snookums. Daddy says he's saving himself for our wedding night.” Max roared with laughter and Mildred turned on him like a loaded weapon, jabbing him right in the chest. Max's smile fell away as she glared at him like he was her next meal. “What are you laughing at you overgrown starfish?” she demanded, her eyes flashing red and her pupils turning to slits. “I've eaten bigger bites than you before, so don't tempt me because I adore seafood.” Max reached out, laying a hand on her bare arm, shifting it slightly as his fingers brushed a hairy mole. “Calm down Milly, we're just having a bit of fun. We want to get to know Darius's betrothed. Why don't you have a shot?” He nodded to Caleb who promptly picked one up and held it one out for Mildred to take. “Daddy says drinking will grow hairs on my chest,” she said, refusing it. “Too late for that,” Seth said under his breath and the others started laughing. A knot of sympathy tugged at my gut, but Mildred didn't seem to care about their mocking. She stepped toward Seth with a wicked grin and his smile fell away. “Oh and what's wrong with that exactly, Seth Capella? You like your girls hairy, don't you?” Seth gawped at her in answer. “What the hell does that mean?” “You like mutt muff,” she answered, jutting out her chin and I noticed a few wiry hairs protruding from it. Seth growled, scratching his stomach as he stepped forward. “I don't screw girls in their Order form, idiot.” “Maybe not, but you do, don't you Caleb Altair?” She rounded on him and now I was really starting to warm to Mildred as she cut them all down to size. I settled in for the show, folding my arms and smiling as I waited for her to go on. “My sister's boyfriend’s cousin said you like Pegasus butts. He even sent a video to Aurora Academy of you humping a Pegasex blow up doll and it went viral within a day.” Caleb's mouth fell open and his face paled in horror. “I didn't hump it!” “I didn't watch the video, but everyone told me what was in it. Why would I want to see you screwing a plastic horse?” She shrugged then turned to Tory and I with absolutely no kindness in her eyes. Oh crap.(Darcy)

Caleb stared at me in surprise as I slipped out of his grip. I turned away from him and headed back around The Orb to find my friends again. “You’re killing me, you know that right?” he called after me. “I’m sure you can find a nice Pegasus girl to help you work through some of that frustration,” I replied without bothering to look back at him. As I returned to Darcy and the others she grinned at me conspiratorially. Caleb’s bag was exactly where he’d left it as if nothing had happened in his absence. We walked away and I glanced back at him as he retrieved it. His gaze was fixed on me and I smirked at him as he watched me leave. I knew I was playing with fire when it came to him but I just couldn’t help myself. Once we were far enough from him to be sure that he wouldn’t overhear, I turned to Darcy expectantly. “So?” “I got his Atlas. Caleb Altair just joined a lot of Pegasus appreciation groups on FaeBook,” she said with a grin. “And he also sent a few suggestive messages to some Pegasus girls on campus.” An excited laugh fell from my lips and I high fived my sister. “Those assholes won’t know what hit them when we’re through.” (Tory)

Tell me, Corbin, how many Vampires drank from you last week?” Orion shifted closer to him as Tyler frowned. “Um… four maybe?” he said with a shrug. “And did you try to fight them off?” Orion asked. “Well… it's easier to just, ya know, let them get on with it,” Tyler said awkwardly. “Precisely. And some of you...” He swept through the class with his Vampire speed and everyone stiffened. His hand landed on Tory's shoulder as he leaned in close to her ear. “Actually enjoy it, don't you?” Tory blushed which was saying a lot for my sister. “That's not really your business, is it Professor?” “Isn't it? I beg to differ.” he stood upright then shot back to the front of the class. “What is the point of you all being here if you're content with sitting at the bottom of the food chain? I'm not going to waste my time training Fae who don't want to climb the ranks.” His sharp eyes scored over us all, cutting us down to the quick. “Raise your hand if you've been drained by a Siren recently.” Everyone raised their hands, even the Sirens in the class. “And keep your hand up if you fought back.” Nearly everyone's hands dropped except Tory's and I threw her a grin. “Oh yeah! Tory Vega totally throat punched Max Rigel,” Tyler said excitedly. “Did she now?” Orion asked with a hint of a smile. “Well yeah.” Tory shrugged innocently, but her eyes lit up with the memory. “And I suppose you've attempted that with Caleb Altair too, have you?” Orion deadpanned and the smile fell from her face. “I thought not.” (darcy)

I hadn’t come here with any intention to spy on Caleb Altair as he got naked but with my fingers stuck holding the window open a crack, I didn’t get much choice in the matter as he dropped his pants next. Darcy blew out a breath of laughter beside me as he crossed the room and headed into his en-suite, giving us plenty of opportunity to check out his ass before he closed the door. The sound of the shower starting up reached us and I relaxed a little. “He might be a part of the asshole brigade, but that guy is stupidly hot,” I murmured. “No doubt about that,” Darcy agreed. “Shall we get on with ruining his day then?” I asked with a grin. “Definitely.” (Tory)

I let out a slow breath, looking at Darius’s mother instead. Holy fake tits! Mommy Acrux was stunningly beautiful and perfectly put together, her pale pink dress was cut with a sweetheart neckline which revealed a lot of cleavage. It was really hard to look away from it. I thought I had a pretty decent rack but beside her curvaceous glory I was a pancake with a face. Real flowers bloomed along the side of her dress, opening and closing their petals in various shades of blue to compliment her husband’s attire and I guessed that meant she held the Element of Earth, though I’d never seen magic used in such a pretty, pointless way before. Her face was painted with the exact right amount of makeup to accentuate her beauty. She had Darius’s dark hair, bronzed skin and deep brown eyes and she hung on her husband’s arm like the definition of arm candy. The men in the room were not so subtly checking her out but I couldn’t blame them. Hell, I even fancied her. The butler clearly had more work to do and he stepped forward to announce us to his High Lord and Lady. “May I present the Celestial Heirs, Max Rigel, Seth Capella, Caleb Altair and Master Acrux,” he said. The Heirs all moved forward to greet the Acruxes and I stifled my surprise as each of them bowed their heads to Daddy Acrux. Mommy Acrux offered out air kisses and embraces which pulled the Heirs against those breasts for a moment. Seth smirked as he moved aside and Darius approached last. His father barely spared him a glance and his mother didn’t offer him one of the hugs but she brushed a hand against his cheek. “How lovely to see you, Darius dear,” she murmured, her tone was sultry and she didn’t actually seem to be particularly pleased to see her son. “I’ve missed you, Mother,” Darius replied, his voice sounding like it was on autopilot even to me. (Tory)

A girl a few feet away suddenly gasped, jumping up and down. “Ohmagod it’s Caleb Altair.” I glanced over my shoulder in the direction she was pointing, pulling away from my friends. Caleb headed a line of Juniors as he strode down the corridor like he owned every ounce of oxygen in it. His friends pointed us out and my gut tightened as his stony gaze slid over us. His fan club were eyeing him hopefully and I knew in the depths of my heart he wasn’t going to pass us by without comment. He slowed his pace, breathing in deeply. “Do you smell that guys?” He sniffed the air and my scowl grew. “Smells like a bunch of Orderless Fae pretending they deserve a place in our prestigious Academy.” “Is it raining assholes today?” Tory commented, turning away from him and for a moment it almost looked like he was going to crack a smile. “I have an Order,” Sofia muttered under her breath but Caleb’s Vampire hearing didn’t let her get away with it. “I wouldn’t go around reminding people of that, blondie. Being a Pegasus is worse than not having an Order.” His friend fist bumped him, nodding his agreement as he laughed. He was a tall guy with red hair and cold eyes. “Yeah I dunno how there are so many of them on campus,” the redhead jibed. “Only a freak would want to screw a horse.” Caleb chuckled at that, nodding firmly. “I think I’d rather give up my claim first.” His shitbag friends laughed their heads off as Caleb swept off down the hall to a stream of excited hoots. “God he’s awful,” I growled. “Ignore him Sofia.” “If I ever bump into him as a Pegasus, I’ll introduce him to my left hoof,” Sofia hissed and I raised my brows at the fire in her eyes. “I would so love to see that,” Tory laughed, then lowered her voice as she looked to me. “I wonder if we can use his Pegasus hate against him?” “Yeah, you should spread a rumour that he likes Pegasus ass,” Sofia whispered, a manic gleam in her eyes. I kinda liked this crazy side to her and couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from my throat. Diego stared at her in shock, then nodded keenly. “That would be fantastico, Sofia. I doubt anyone would believe us freaks though.” He winked at her and she blushed at his insinuation. (Darcy)

I turned the other way and headed back towards the stairs to find Darcy and get the hell away from the Acrux Manor. Hooking up with Caleb Altair had not been on my list of things to do tonight but it hadn’t been the worst thing I’d ever done either. I tried to wipe the smirk from my face as I remembered the way his hands had felt on my body and navigated my way back through the sprawling manor. The place was seriously massive and I hadn’t realised quite how far I’d run in my bid to escape from Caleb. I took a few wrong turns before finally finding the stairs and heading down to the huge door that led outside. Darcy and Orion were standing out on the gravel drive, looking in opposite directions to each other. “Hey,” I called as I moved to join them, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill of the evening. Darcy glanced at Orion then hurried toward me with a taut expression. I raised a questioning eyebrow at her and her cheeks heated a little in response. “Where have you been?” she asked, eyeing my hair with her mystical twin senses tingling. “Oh, I erm-” “With who?” she demanded, her eyes widening. I glanced at Orion awkwardly and he rolled his eyes before stalking away from us further down the drive. “It’s not a big deal,” I said as Darcy waited for her answer expectantly. “Seriously, it was just a bit of fun.” “Well I’m guessing this bit of fun has a name,” she teased. I sighed in defeat, ready to admit to yet another Tory’s bad choice in men moment. “Caleb.” Orion turned to look back at me with a raised eyebrow and I cursed his damn Vampire ears. I should have realised he’d still be listening in. Nosey asshole. “But Tory, he’s an Heir!”Darcy spluttered before she could stop herself. I dropped my eyes guiltily and she quickly reined in the saucer eyes and battered down the judgement. “I mean, I get it, he’s stupidly hot and everything,” she hedged quickly. “I’m just worried about you. What if he’s up to something?” I snorted a laugh. “Don’t worry about it Darcy, I’m not falling for him. It was just a mutually beneficial moment of madness.” “Okay, good,” she said with relief. Then her eyes sparkled with mischief as she dropped her voice. “So how was it?” Orion cleared his throat and I scowled at him. “I’ll tell you later when there are less nosey Vampires using their bat ears around us,” I said. Darcy giggled in response, looking over at Orion who didn’t even bother to pretend he hadn’t been listening to us. (tory)

official programming language was reminiscent of the minis. Created in the spring of 1975 by two young men who had been inspired by the Popular Electronics article—Bill Gates, now a Harvard undergrad, and his high school buddy Paul Allen, a programmer working outside Boston—Altair BASIC took a number of key features from DEC’s BASIC for the PDP-11.

MITS and the Altair had vanished by 1979. If Roberts and his computer were gone, however, the movement they had done so much to create was already self-sustaining. Not only were new brands of machines flooding the market by the dozens, if not by the hundreds, there were also users’ groups for every microcomputer imaginable, as well as pan-micro groups such as the legendary Homebrew Computer Club, which held its first meeting in a Palo Alto garage in March 1975. There were magazines such as Byte, which debuted in August 1975, and the software periodical Dr. Dobbs Journal of Computer Calisthenics and Orthodontia (motto: “Running Light without Overbyte”), which published its first issue in 1976. There were specialty stores like the Byte Shop and ComputerLand, the latter soon to be a nationwide chain.

Altair was not the first commercial microcomputer; that honor goes to the Micral, an Intel 8008—based machine that was sold in France starting in May 1973.

The father of the Altair was H. Edward Roberts of Albuquerque, New Mexico,

Right, that’s enough! Miss Vega, get your ass in your own seat.” “Rigel, Acrux and Altair, if you throw one more fucking ice ball in my classroom, I will blast you through the wall and you can forget about coming back here to learn a single thing.” “What would happen if a Fae with a big Order form swallowed three people then shifted back into their Fae form? Do you think they’d die? I think they might die,” Seth mused aloud. “Actually, I know some annoying people we could send as bait to Lionel, then when he eats them, we could shoot an Order Suppressant dart up his ass and bang. Dead Dragon. Annoying people eaten. Win – win.” “Capella, if you ask another pointless question this lesson, I will force feed you three people in your Werewolf form and we’ll put your theory to the test,” I snarled, stealing the air from his lungs as he opened his mouth to respond. “So hot,” Darcy said under her breath as she watched me, shifting in her seat as desire filled her eyes. “Miss Vega, if you keep looking at me like that, I will bring you up here, bend you over my desk and spank you in front of everyone. Is that what you want?” I demanded, trying to ignore the way my cock was twitching for her.

Altair had been right. Sometime between pledging to kill the Demenhune Hunter and now, Nasir had come to feel something for her. He had grown attached. Feelings had transpired without permission, conspired without his brain, working with what was left of his heart.

The brightness of the light faded and I was hit with a surge of love and emotion which I knew belonged to the Vampire as he unlocked memories of his past, his family. He had an older sister with long, blonde hair and parents who both loved him and pushed him in hopes of getting him to achieve greatness. He'd grown up surrounded by powerful people and had attended Zodiac Academy and his name was...Marlowe Altair.

Altair was the name of one of the ruling families of Solaria. Melinda Altair - this dude's freaking sister - currently sat on the Celestial Council alongside Lionel Acrux. She was one of our rulers, one of the most powerful Fae in the whole star damned country.

Apparently, I really am an Altair. So maybe my fate really will be changing after all.

spoilt the

Al-Mu'iz

Al-Muzil

As the 1970s drew to a close, and Commodore, Tandy, Altair, and Apple began to emerge from the sidelines, PARC director Bert Sutherland asked Larry Tesler to assess what some analysts were already predicting to be the coming era of “hobby and personal computers.” “I think that the era of the personal computer is here,” Tesler countered; “PARC has kept involved in the world of academic computing, but we have largely neglected the world of personal computing which we helped to found.”41 His warning went largely unheeded. Xerox Corporation’s parochial belief that computers need only talk to printers and filing cabinets and not to each other meant that the “office of the future” remained an unfulfilled promise, and in the years between 1978 and 1982 PARC experienced a dispersal of core talent that rivals the flight of Greek scholars during the declining years of Byzantium: Charles Simonyi brought the Alto’s Bravo text editing program to Redmond, Washington, where it was rebooted as Microsoft Word; Robert Metcalf used the Ethernet protocol he had invented at PARC to found the networking giant, 3Com; John Warnock and Charles Geschke, tiring of an unresponsive bureaucracy, took their InterPress page description language and founded Adobe Systems; Tesler himself brought the icon-based, object-oriented Smalltalk programming language with him when he joined the Lisa engineering team at Apple, and Tim Mott, his codeveloper of the Gypsy desktop interface, became one of the founders of Electronic Arts—five startups that would ultimately pay off the mortgages and student loans of many hundreds of industrial, graphic, and interaction designers, and provide the tools of the trade for untold thousands of others.

Paul Graham is the founder of Y Combinator, one of the most successful and sought-after startup accelerators in the tech world. Graham has invested in several blockbuster companies, including AirBNB and Dropbox, both of which are valued in the billions at the time of this writing. After investing in hundreds of companies and considering thousands more, Paul Graham has perfected the art of identifying promising startups. His methods may surprise you. In an interview, Graham highlighted two key strategies: Favoring people over product Favoring determination over intelligence What’s most essential for a successful startup? Graham: The founders. We’ve learned in the six years of doing Y Combinator to look at the founders—not the business ideas—because the earlier you invest, the more you’re investing in the people. When Bill Gates was starting Microsoft, the idea that he had then involved a small-time microcomputer called the Altair. That didn’t seem very promising, so you had to see that this 19-year-old kid was going places. What do you look for? Graham: Determination. When we started, we thought we were looking for smart people, but it turned out that intelligence was not as important as we expected. If you imagine someone with 100 percent determination and 100 percent intelligence, you can discard a lot of intelligence before they stop succeeding. But if you start discarding determination, you very quickly get an ineffectual and perpetual grad student.[74] Your intelligence doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. If you’re reading this book, you’re probably more than capable. Your ideas don’t matter much, either. What matters most—by far, is your perseverance. Stop worrying about your mental aptitude. Stop worrying about the viability of the project you’re considering. Stop worrying about all the other big decisions keeping you up at night. Instead, focus on relentlessly grinding away at your passion until something incredible happens. Your potential output is governed by your mindset, not your mind itself.

To start with the Altair needed a language out of which to create programs. Gates and Allen called the small Albuquerque, New Mexico, company that made the Altair and promised to supply a language. They chose Basic, originally designed in the 1960s for the sorts of minicomputers made by Digital. Basic (Beginners All-purpose Symbolic Instruction Code) was ideal for short programs and easier to learn than Fortran because its instructions were simpler. The language caught on widely, and its authors, two Dartmouth College professors, asserted no ownership rights over the program, allowing anyone to use or modify it free of charge. Within six weeks, Gates and Allen had written a version of Basic for the Altair and formed a partnership called Microsoft to peddle the program. Allen flew to New Mexico to strike a deal. Soon Microsoft’s Basic sold so well, even at its five-hundred-dollar price, that Gates left Harvard. He never returned. The

Abrams voice cut in over the comm. “My God, this place is breath-taking!” “It is a palace for the gods,” added Brock. The group stood gawking at the magnificence of the hall surrounding them. Delanda went to the table, placed her helmet and pack on it, and began pulling tablets, scanners, and other accessories out. She wrestled off her gloves, but had trouble with the suit torso so Wilson had to intervene and help. Without a thought to the revealing fit of the white stretch suit liner, she escaped the spacesuit bottom and placed it on the table. Then, with still no self-consciousness at all, she stripped the suit liner off down to athletic bra and slim panties and pulled her pink, rolled up vacuum-packed flight coveralls and cloth boots from the suit pack. After excitedly dressing, she hurriedly grabbed a scanner from her pack and began investigating the hall. Show over, one by one we all removed our suits and became visitors in white suit liners. Wilson gave his fatherly warning. “Everyone be very careful removing and folding those liners. If you tear or damage the thermal control system in any way you could have an unpleasant trip back to the ship. Also, be careful to tuck in your suit communicator since we’ll all be using wrist coms from now on. That is if they actually work here.” Delanda ignored his comments and headed for the far end of the hall. Wilson pulled on black coveralls, R.J.’s were farmhouse blue, Brock and Wen light green, Abrams in hospital scrubs green, and Sharma’s and Ansara’s in tan. Mine were captain’s blue. As we studied our celestial surroundings, Delanda returned and spoke in a commanding voice. “Gentlemen, if you would grab your tablets and gather around me here at this magnificent table we should get started.” For the first time there was a unanimous look of annoyance, although everyone quickly complied. R.J. and I stood opposite her feeling like two school kids being ushered around on a field trip. Delanda checked to be sure everyone was paying attention. “Okay, I’m assuming our intranet will work in here even though we’re out of contact with the ship. Let’s try it. All of you use your tablets to access mine and copy the file titled: Translations. Let me know if anyone has trouble.” Delanda’s tablet appeared on our screens. As she had guessed, there were no problems getting in. Once copied, I opened the file and found dozens of Altair symbols, some highlighted, most grayed-out. “Okay, everyone got in? Right? Okay, the symbols you see highlighted are the ones I believe I have a rudimentary translation for. Those that are in gray, your guess is as good as mine.” “How do you propose we proceed?” asked Brock. “Speaking as an experienced field researcher, I would suggest one of us photographs and documents this first chamber thoroughly while the rest of us split up and do the same with other chambers, periodically reporting back here after each excursion. We should have one central person remain here to monitor the progress of everyone in the event they get into trouble. I would think that would be you, Commander Mirtos, since you are the best at rescue. Does anyone have any objections?” R.J. leaned over. “I believe this is a non-hostile takeover. Are you going to step in?” “Not until she says something I disagree with.” Delanda continued. “So, if no one has any objections the first order of business will be to photograph every wall symbol we find along with any artifacts possibly associated

Next, I pulled out a riding whip which we’d gotten personalised so that Caleb Altair stood out in silver letters along the length of it and laid it at the edge of his usual spot with my heart pumping adrenaline into my limbs. I

1975 Altair 8800 Real price: $3,481.85 Computations per second: 500,000 Computations/second/dollar: 144

Visvabiotic (The Sonnet) Human is bandaid to human burn, Human is ointment to human yearn. Human is morning to human mourn, Human is cure born of human churn. Human is Altair to human Vega, Human is aloe to human vera. Human is pilgrim to human mecca, Human, Poly-B to social septicemia. There is no fancy heaven, only a good fervent human. There is no book of god, only a brave godly person. Human is piety to prejudice barbaric. To all inhuman hate, Human Visvabiotic.

Max Rigel,” (the dark skinned demi-god). “Caleb Altair,” (the blonde haired beaux next door), “Darius Acrux,” (my sin-filled fantasy). “And Seth Capella,” (the long haired lothario). “This is Gwendalina and Roxanya Vega

Our clock doesn’t tick, Caleb Altair. There’s no seconds, minutes or hours, it has no day or night. It just is. Forever.

have chosen so badly? The bone-shaking noise of the human carrier is still in my ears. My heart is still pounding. I was sure I could get past it, but it was going faster than I thought. And Altair was so slow. What if Mother or baby Capella had gotten hurt? They are better off without me. Aquila is the one they need. She will be a perfect wayfinder someday.

I realised I didn’t really care in that moment though. I was fucking privileged to be Caleb Altair’s friend, and if that was all we were ever destined to be then that was enough for me. Because I’d spent most of my life loving the moon without ever resting a paw on its surface. So Caleb would be my new moon, my unreachable love hanging over me in the sky.

When you dropped from the sky like that, I could have sworn I was looking at your mother,” Melinda Altair broke the silence, and a lump thickened my throat at yet another Fae who I should have had in my life but had been stolen from me by fate. Or more accurately, by Lionel Acrux.

Max Rigel,” (the dark-skinned demi-god). “Caleb Altair,” (the blonde-haired beau next door), “Darius Acrux,” (my sin-filled fantasy). “And Seth Capella,” (the long-haired lothario). “This is Gwendalina and Roxanya Vega-

Altair had always prided himself on his self-control, but Sven was making him struggle, his mere presence tempting Altair in ways he had never experienced before.

I turned the other way and headed back towards the stairs to find Darcy and get the hell away from the Acrux Manor. Hooking up with Caleb Altair had not been on my list of things to do tonight but it hadn’t been the worst thing I’d ever done either.

Altair scoffed. “I have an abundance of gold, shukrun. I find the best payments are always the most difficult to extract. So come with me to the Daama Faris, and we can talk over a drink.” Nasir clenched his teeth as Altair lifted two fingers to his brow in a mock salute and strolled from the room. Weasel.

Ain't The Center (The Sonnet) You are the Alpha, You are Omega. You are Altair, You are the Vega. You are the distance, You are the contact. You are the runner, You are the racetrack. You are the race, You are the prize. You are torchbearer, You are the light. You ain't the center of the universe. For in reality, you are the universe.

Then Altair al-Badawi lifted his hands to the skies, a crooked grin upon his face, and Sharr exploded with light

Uh-huh. That’s one reason we don’t have a nuclear power plant. This far from the sun, we don’t get enough emission to worry about. The asteroid’s mass screens out what little may arrive. I know the TIMM system is used on ships; but if nothing else, the initial cost is more than we want to pay.” “What’s TIMM?” inquired the Altair’s chaplain. “Thermally Integrated Micro-Miniaturized,” Ellen said crisply. “Essentially, ultraminiaturized ceramic-to-metal-seal vacuum tubes running off thermionic generators. They’re immune to gamma ray and magnetic pulses, easily shielded against particule radiation, and economical of power.” She grinned. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing about them in Leviticus, Padre!

How can I regret the only life I've ever known?

I hope you can climb,” Nasir said. “Do I look like a monkey?” Altair asked. “That would be a disgrace to the monkey,” Nasir answered,

As I reflect upon some of the exceptional leaders I’ve studied in my research, I’m struck by how Covey’s principles are manifested in many of their stories. Let me focus on one of my favorite cases, Bill Gates. It’s become fashionable in recent years to attribute the outsize success of someone like Bill Gates to luck, to being in the right place at the right time. But if you think about it, this argument falls apart. When Popular Electronics put the Altair computer on its cover, announcing the advent of the first-ever personal computer, Bill Gates teamed up with Paul Allen to launch a software company and write the BASIC programming language for the Altair. Yes, Gates was at just the right moment with programming skills, but so were other people—students in computer science and electrical engineering at schools like Cal Tech, MIT, and Stanford; seasoned engineers at technology companies like IBM, Xerox, and HP; and scientists in government research laboratories. Thousands of people could’ve done what Bill Gates did at that moment, but they didn’t. Gates acted upon the moment. He dropped out of Harvard, moved to Albuquerque (where the Altair was based), and wrote computer code day and night. It was not the luck of being at the right moment in history that separated Bill Gates, but his proactive response to being at the right moment (Habit 1: Be Proactive).

Under Two Windows" I. AUBADE The dawn is here—and the long night through I have never seen thy face, Though my feet have worn the patient grass at the gate of thy dwelling-place. While the white moon sailed till, red in the west, it found the far world edge, No leaflet stirred of the leaves that climb to garland thy window ledge. Yet the vine had quivered from root to tip, and opened its flowers again, If only the low moon's light had glanced on a moving casement pane. Warm was the wind that entered in where the barrier stood ajar, And the curtain shook with its gentle breath, white as young lilies are; But there came no hand all the slow night through to draw the folds aside, (I longed as the moon and the vine-leaves longed!) or to set the casement wide. Three times in a low-hung nest there dreamed his five sweet notes a bird, And thrice my heart leaped up at the sound I thought thou hadst surely heard. But now that thy praise is caroled aloud by a thousand throats awake, Shall I watch from afar and silently, as under the moon, for thy sake? Nay—bold in the sun I speak thy name, I too, and I wait no more Thy hand, thy face, in the window niche, but thy kiss at the open door! II. NOCTURNE My darling, come!—The wings of the dark have wafted the sunset away, And there's room for much in a summer night, but no room for delay. A still moon looketh down from the sky, and a wavering moon looks up From every hollow in the green hills that holds a pool in its cup. The woodland borders are wreathed with bloom—elder, viburnum, rose; The young trees yearn on the breast of the wind that sighs of love as it goes. The small stars drown in the moon-washed blue but the greater ones abide, With Vega high in the midmost place, Altair not far aside. The glades are dusk, and soft the grass, where the flower of the elder gleams, Mist-white, moth-like, a spirit awake in the dark of forest dreams. Arcturus beckons into the east, Antares toward the south, That sendeth a zephyr sweet with thyme to seek for thy sweeter mouth. Shall the blossom wake, the star look down, all night and have naught to see? Shall the reeds that sing by the wind-brushed pool say nothing of thee and me? —My darling comes! My arms are content, my feet are guiding her way; There is room for much in a summer night, but no room for delay! Petry. (November 1912)

dominate. Bill Gates did not start out with the business model that made him rich and famous. Initially, after dropping out of Harvard, he and Paul Allen sold their own line of BASIC software for the Altair 8800.7 It was only when the company was about five years old, in 1981, that Gates found out that IBM was seeking an operating system for its proposed personal computer line. He bought an operating system from another company in Seattle, called it MS-DOS, licensed it to IBM, and built Microsoft into a juggernaut. You may not find the right business model on the first cut, so you may have to adapt—before you run out of cash.

I swear Altair is made for scoring Pits. She’s like a rocket on the field, especially when the Lion starts knocking everyone over.

I thought we were goners. Real, for true goners,” Seth said. “We can’t die,” Cal said a little breathlessly. “We’re Bitey C, Wolfman, and Fish Fury.” “You remembered,” Seth gasped. “Of course I fucking remembered.” Caleb scruffed Seth’s long hair and I managed an actual laugh, shoving Seth in the shoulder. Geraldine tried to leave us to it, and I stalked after her, but she shrugged me off, moving to release everyone else while I just trailed her like a whipped little bitch. But if destiny was kind enough to allow me to be her whipped bitch, then I was all for it. I was hers in any way she would take me and damn the consequences.

He was Caleb Altair. The most protective, loyal Fae who knew every piece of me and never flinched from it. Of course I’d fallen for him.

The old Guild was made up of the twelve power families, as you know,” Marigold said. “The balance was set, each of them made equally as powerful as the others. Alphard, Vega, Acrux, Capella, Altair, Pollux, Rigel, Andromeda, Denebola, Castor, Betelgeuse, and Pleiades.” “Yeah, then one of them stole a stone from the other and upset the power.

But shit, Tory you don’t understand how freaking much I like playing this game with you. Ever since we got back from that party I’ve hardly been able to think about anything else. The feeling of you in my arms, the taste of your blood on my lips, the rush I get when you run from me...

Everything,” she replied with a grin. “I want to do it all.” “I’ll do whatever makes you happy,” I replied, throwing my arm over her shoulders as I led her towards the next ride. And the strangest thing was, I was pretty sure that was the truth.

I could have grilled their star player, Lance Orion, over brunch. Brunch dammit! We didn't do brunch in Alestria unless you counted a hobo licking an old breakfast burrito wrapper at eleven thirty in the morning on the corner of Altair Street. And let's be honest. No on fucking did count that.

I had done it before. Bound myself to Caleb Altair and formed a coven with him, a coven Stella was now on the path to binding herself to as well.

Our daughters stood on the grounds of Zodiac Academy in the heart of the Howling Meadow, surrounded by hundreds of Fae. Before them knelt the four Heirs; Caleb Altair, Seth Capella, Max Rigel, and Darius Acrux himself. Everyone began to bow with them, dropping to their knees and my eyes caught on Gabriel and Lance as they dropped down with smiles on their lips and a weight of reverence about them.

How vanilla are you feeling, Altair?” Seth purred, licking a fucking butt plug and I was done. I was done. “Get me out of here,” I snarled as Merissa gave up on holding back and started laughing loudly.

He was never going to want me the way I wanted him, but the pathetic truth was that I’d take every scrap of attention he had to offer. Because while it lasted, even fragments of Caleb Altair were better than the cavity that was left in my chest without him at all.