Server Upgrade

I walked in to the bus stop this morning with a feeling of impending doom. We had updated a server the previous evening that would affect all the Linux machines on our network. It was a simple fix. The /ets/fstab must be touched (figuratively, not the 'touch' command) and the machine rebooted to get back to normal. No, I do not have a script that just takes care of the problem. Several people asked me that. I do not have a magic wand either.

The bus was moving under my feet as I got on. Before that, the mosquitoes were our. My sweat beaded and ran down my face in to my contacts. The contacts hadn't gone in this morning without a fight. Oh, At 03:30 or so, a road crew had started work outside our house banging away with a brand new jack hammer. I thought it was the racers and was ready to go investigate with a pistol in my pocket. I took my phone instead. Couldn't Get back to sleep. Fought with poor Nat. Woke up Elle in the process.

On the bus, I notice every one else is doing the same thing I'm doing. We are all tapping on our phones and not speaking to one another. The city all around seems bustling, but, I notice an energy beam whisk by several meters off the ground. I looked ahead and noticed a thin column of smoke leading off to the south west. The column was coming ... No ... It was coming from the building where I work. No one else seemed to notice or care.

As we approached the building, people got about their normal activities and there were no fire trucks or police. Not a news helicopter. This was no spectacle to be gawked upon slack jawed. I could see activity amongst the broken windows. Ever more clearly as we closed distance, The cause and conflict of the situation laid itself before my eyes.

It was the Farrell Death-Bot horde against the Chuds.They battled noisily as stray ordinance showered down on unaware citizens.After a few moments I noticed that a Death-Bots could take Chud one on one with no trouble, but the Bots seemed to bicker amongst their ranks. The Chuds it turns out were organized and fought in trained units. The Chuds' most effective weapon may be an Allan wrench. This battle would last the day at least.

After exiting the bus and dodging the heavy bits of a desk that had been blown from the floor above that hit the side walk, I dashed for the door. No one in the lobby seamed upset for all the noise as RPG fire dashed across the atrium between two wings of the building. No other floor was damaged save a broken window or two. People were just getting on with their day. Was I the only one seeing this? Am I imagining the whole thing. As I enter the elevator and lean in to press my floor's button, I pause for just a moment to read the little warning sign taped next to it with a bloody fingerprint in the middle that reads "Thar be dragons here!" It is going to be one of those days.