A pesar de que la feria ya haya concluido, todavía tenemos algunas cosas de las que vimos en la feria que no ha sido publicado, y, uno de estos artículos, eran las novedades de Doogee.
Doogee era uno de los fabricantes con los que habíamos quedado para poder ver las novedades que traían, y, en nuestra visita por el stand, vimos, además de los dos modelos que han presentado en la feria y que todavía no están en el mercado, algunos modelos que no habíamos probado anteriormente.
Los dos modelos en cuestión con los que Doogee había entrado a la feria han sido con el Doogee Ibiza F2 y con el DG750 Ironbone, ambos modelos nos han confirmado que estarán para finales de este mes.
Doogee Ibiza F2
El teléfono posee un cuerpo metálico realizado por procesos mecanizados que le proporcionan una fuerza y durabilidad muy superior al plástico. Este modelo posee 4G gracias al procesador Mediatek MT6732 de 64 bits con el que ha sido equipado. Su pantalla es de 5 pulgadas, por lo que se trata de un teléfono no muy grande y una resolución de 960 x 540. Dispone de 1 GB de RAM para apoyar al procesador y respecto a la cámara, tenemos 8 mega-pixel en la parte trasera y 5 mega-pixel con gran angular en la parte delantera.
Doogee DG750 Iron bone
Este teléfono posee también cuerpo metálico, de ahí su nombre y, también por el hecho de poseer una ligera forma de hueso como el usado como premio a los perros. Este modelo es algo mas básico aunque no deja de tener un procesador octa-core Mediatek MT6592 que se apoya con 1 GB de RAM dispone de 8GB de memoria interna. No posee soporte 4G como el modelo Ibiza F2 pero si que posee ranura de microSD, y, respecto a la cámara, nos movemos en modelos similares, 8 mega-pixel en la parte trasera y 5 mega-pixel en la delantera.
Ambos teléfonos tenían instalado Android 4.4.4, aunque nos enseñaron 2 modelos que tenían en pruebas con Android 5.0, por lo que Doogee tendrá pronto actualización para diferentes modelos.
Además de mostrar las novedades que todavía no están comercializadas (aunque lo estarán en breve), Rubén de Doogee nos mostró diferentes modelos que no habíamos podido tocarlos anteriormente.
Sin duda un fabricante con muchos modelos interesantes y, que, por lo que hemos podido saber, parecen estar ahora enfocados mas en la actualización de los modelos actuales, con mejores especificaciones que en el lanzamiento de nuevos modelos.
Vídeo de las novedades de Doogee en el MWC
Estaremos pendientes a las novedades de este pequeño gran fabricante
MWC: Doogee nos muestra sus dos nuevos modelos en el congreso A pesar de que la feria ya haya concluido, todavía tenemos algunas cosas de las que vimos en la feria que no ha sido publicado, y, uno de estos artículos, eran las novedades de Doogee.
A/N: So I'm reasonably sure no one's reading this? But oh well, I'll keep posting on the off-chance someone starts. *Sighs resignedly*
The full-throated roar of an Allos shattered the night like a cannon-blast. Inside the warehouse, the smugglers started badly, spilling the contraband goods and illegal drugs across the floor.
“Shit! I thought you said the riders weren’t involved with this!” the youngest cried. He was barely more than a boy, and his eyes were wide with terror. There was little more frightening than the roar of a Carn-saurisch, particularly if that roar came from the throat of an Allos or a full-size Rex. Not even Baryos and Pinos, the latter larger than a Rex, could come close to evoking the terror that a Rex’s roar could.
“Calm down, would you?” the leader snarled. “Just one Allos doesn’t mean the riders are involved. Besides, we got guns on every level of this place. If that bitch shows her head, or the head of her saurisch, we’ll blow it off, savvy? Now come on, get this mess picked up. I’ll worry when they’ve got Rexes and Baryos on us.”
With perfect timing, the deep roar of a full-sized Rex shook the glass in the windows, joined by three more Alloses, another Rex, and possibly a troop of Baryos. A Klio, its back and head armoured even on top of the impressive natural bony armour already covering its body, stood waiting as well, though it remained more or less silent beyond the occasional grunt. It was to be used as a battering ram if the need presented itself. They surrounded the warehouse, over twenty-five tons of saurisch, and all armed with lethal teeth and claws and, solely in the case of the Klio, a tail ending in a heavy, massive knob of bone. A number of Eiyon-handlers, each holding chains that restrained three Eiyons, milled about the feet of the Carn-saurisches, as did a pair of men keeping a wary eye on a flock of trained Velosses. The local lodge had clearly been emptied out for the operation. Three Alloses and the Baryos each carried two riders, and the two Rexes carried five. The first Allos, however, was the only one not from the local lodge, and only carried one woman.
Like all Carn-saurisch riders, she was tall and solidly-built. Droma-saurisches were too light to carry anyone above five and a half feet and one-hundred fifty pounds, but Carn-saurisches were bigger and stronger, able to carry larger people. Even the smallest Carn-saurisch, the Baryo, was two full metres longer than a Yutahr. This Allos rider’s bulk came from a lifetime of riding, hand-to-hand combat, and an exercise regimen that put many soldiers to shame. She was a tall, powerful woman, evident in the broad muscles of her shoulders and back and her thick arms. The latter were both covered with spiking, curling tattoos, revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of her shirt. There was a slight curviness to her, a small measure of fat she would likely never shed that softened her form, though only enough to keep her from being mistaken for a man. It failed utterly to distract from her physical presence and power. She’d pulled her mass of dreadlocks, several adorned with small metal objets d’art, away from her high-boned face, which currently bore an expression that would terrify even the most hardened criminal. A gold ring glittered in her left nostril, bright against her dark skin. Her Allos snorted and shook his head, impatient to be moving and on the attack. Like most Alloses, he was a deep charcoal colour lightened with grey stripes, his pronounced eye ridges, almost horn-like in their size, a deep crimson.
“Easy, Muku,” his rider muttered in her contralto voice. “Wait for the signal.”
“Rider Amara.”
Amara turned to the approaching Allos and its two riders, both women with a powerful build like hers. It seemed far more patient than Muku, amber eyes blinking slowly in the moonlight. But it was older than Muku, who had only reached maturity a year previously, and it had, over the course of many such operations, developed a patience that Muku could only aspire towards. The approaching Allos’ muzzle was striped with scars.
“Well?” Amara asked.
“The scouts report shooters on most levels of the warehouse, all around the perimeter,” the lead-most Baryo rider said. “If we want to get in by force, we risk getting shot, especially if we go in riding the Carn-saurisches.”
“How many Droma-saurisches do we have? Did the Yutahr riders show up?”
“We have a number of Velosses and rider-less Eiyons, but no Yutahrs.”
Amara closed her hazel eyes, thinking. She wished Dima were there; Dima had a gift for strategy and ambush that would have seen the operation through with minimal, if not non-existent, casualties. She opened her eyes and looked at the warehouse. It sat on the water’s edge, being a former facility for loading goods onto the backs of the enormous marine saurisch Plifu. As such, it had a large opening near one wall, where a Plifu might surface as workers carefully lowered waterproof containers onto its back. It had been abandoned for some years, but the criminals currently occupying it had found it a convenient place to smuggle in banned goods like the narcotic dreamweed, which came all the way from far Klokite. Expensive to import and even more expensive to buy, a savvy dreamweed seller could very quickly find himself among the nouveau riche with but a few sales. But dreamweed was exceedingly dangerous and highly addictive, causing intense hallucination that the user eventually came to believe actually existed. A number of addicts had once believed they were being chased by a stampeding herd of wild Iguahs, and ran into the harbour, where they had all drowned to a man.
An idea came to Amara then.
“This is a waterfront city,” she said to the Baryo riders. “Are there any aquatic saurisch riders? Anyone riding Tocles or Lodons?”
The two Baryo riders looked at each other.
“I don’t think there’re any riders, but I know there’re some trained Lodons at the lodge,” the second rider said. “Would they get here in time, though?”
“We have to try it before they start shooting. What about Pino riders?”
“They’re already on their way, actually. We had them on standby in case the criminals tried to escape by water.” While not truly aquatic saurisches, Pinos were no strangers to water, their natural habitat being swampy coastland.
“Send a beetle to the lodge asking for the Lodons. When the Lodons get here, we’ll have them surround the warehouse, and we’ll have the Pinos go up in through the Plifu dock.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The lead-most Allos rider wheeled the beast around, and Amara turned back to the warehouse. She couldn’t keep the riders in clear sight for too long; there was every chance the criminals would get jumpy and start shooting, and she didn’t want any loss of life if she could avoid it, human and saurisch alike.
“Everyone, back off a bit,” she bellowed. “Get out of rifle range.”
She put words to action, and watched as everyone else did the same. A roar heralded the arrival of the Pinos; three of them, each bearing a rider. Due to the massive sails that rose from their backs, Pinos could only carry one person at a time, sitting with their back right against the sail. Pino riders were rare, given that with their size they could be hard for a lone rider to control, and there was no other way for more than one person to ride one. They were longer by a good ten feet than the Rexes. They were intimidating, even to experienced Carn riders. The lead Pino rider approached Amara and Muku.
“Hail, Rider!” he called. Unlike their Droma rider comrades, men were allowed to ride Carn-saurisches. Droma-saurisches (as well as Thokyes) on the whole were too small to carry most men, except those men who had been born female. Such men, however, tended to avoid riding Droma-saurisches, given how most people, seeing a Droma rider, assumed the rider was a woman. Exceptions existed, but they were quite rare. But Carn riders were often male, whether they were born male or not. “Are you the leader of this operation?”
Amara lifted her hand in greeting and wheeled Muku over to the Pino. “Hail. I am, yes. Amara Kikala, rider of Muku. Right, you three Pino riders, head into the harbour. The warehouse should have a place that leads directly to the water; you need to get in there and attack. We,” she indicated the other riders, “will attack at the same time, coming through the doors. Hopefully the criminals will be too confused to react and we should take them with minimum casualties.”
The Pino rider nodded and led the other two into the harbour. It wasn’t so deep that the riders couldn’t stand in their saddles and hold their heads over the waves, though they were forced to submerge as they drew near the warehouse.
Amara turned to the other riders. “On my signal, we attack,” she said. The other riders nodded back at her, and they watched the warehouse with bated breath.
Within the warehouse, all had become organised chaos. The criminals ran about, trying desperately to get their goods packed up and hidden under the warehouse floor. The leader was bellowing orders at the top of his lungs, trying his best to keep things from absolutely falling apart. He gnawed one knuckle, cursing riders everywhere.
No one paid attention to the large square opening against the east wall. This was the Plifu dock, some fifty feet across; Plifus were huge beasts, easily forty-three feet long, with a skull one-fifth that length. No Plifu had risen through that opening in several years, the surface of the water growing scummy and foul. But that night, the top of a Pino’s sail broke the scum, closely followed by the Pino’s eyes and nostrils as it stretched its neck to raise its eyes and nostrils over the water.
Suddenly the Pino surged up, hissing as water streamed from its sides and sail. The criminals cried out, several dropping whatever they held as the Pino roared and stepped out of the Plifu dock.
“By order of the government of Kakkony, you are all under arrest for the illegal transportation and distribution of the narcotic dreamweed, along with several other banned goods!” its rider bellowed over the ensuing panic.
Outside, the Pino’s roar was clearly audible. Amara drew her gun, a pistol close in size to a small rifle, and flicked the reins against Muku’s neck.
“Break down the doors!” she shouted. The Klio’s handlers prodded it with sticks, and it grunted and lowed before charging forward, its head lowered. It ploughed into the doors with enough force to rattle the entire wall, and it kept bulling forward, finally breaking the doors down and trampling the two unfortunate criminals that happened to be standing in its way.
Amara led the Carns into the warehouse, firing her gun at the criminals lining the walls. One of the criminals managed to get a round off; the bullet whizzed by her left ear and struck Muku in the leg. He roared, and Amara’s shot caught the criminal right between the eyes. The Baryo troop, a group consisting of six Baryos and their riders, followed her in, the long-muzzled beasts rushing forward and snapping at the criminals. They were smaller relatives of the Pinos, bearing the same long crocodilian snouts (their topped with a small horn at the end of their nose) but lacking the sails. Next came the other two Alloses, their riders firing at the criminals with their own guns. The Rexes were next, more or less to keep the criminals from escaping through the door. Within minutes, thanks to the combined efforts of the Alloses, the Droma-saurisches, the Baryos, the Rexes, and the Pinos, the criminals had all been subdued and captured.
Save for the leader.
He had been quick enough to hide near the Plifu dock, and waited until the Pinos were all out of the water. During the brief battle, he dove into the water and swam out of the dock and into the harbour. He broke the surface and gasped for air. For a moment, he treaded water, laughing that he’d managed to escape. His goods were gone, and his clientele would not be pleased, but he could always get more. He was a respected member of the criminal fraternity.
And then long, conical teeth sank into his leg, and he screamed in pain and terror. The Lodons had arrived. The beast, fully twenty feet long, surfaced briefly, the criminal clutched in its jaws, and then dove back under, heading for the Plifu dock. While a wild Lodon would simply have torn the criminal apart, the Lodons of the coastal lodges were carefully trained not to damage criminals more than necessary. (However, they were unsuitable for rescue missions, since they could not be trained not to bite.) They knew to bring any human they caught to land. It was far from ideal, since frequently whoever they’d caught died anyway, from shock and blood loss. The Lodon surfaced and managed to haul its body halfway out of the Plifu dock to deposit the criminal leader on the floor of the warehouse.
A curious Veloss scurried up to him and looked down at him, its head turning side-to-side like a bird’s. It chirruped, and then set up a loud call. Droma-saurisches were amazingly vocal creatures, having developed a kind of language to communicate amongst pack-mates. Anyone who handled Eiyons and Velosses quickly learned to distinguish between sounds, which ones were warning noises, which demanded help, which signalled danger. The Veloss handler looked up from trying to keep the pack from eating a dead criminal (the man had been killed by an overzealous Eiyon), and spotted the Veloss by the leader. She headed over to him, calling over the medic.
The sun was beginning to rise by the time the operation was finished. Amara had been tending to Muku’s gunshot wound (fortunately, the bullet had passed through his leg) while simultaneously supervising the corralling of criminals into a Toros-drawn wagon. With the last smuggler secured in the wagon and Muku’s wound cleaned and dressed, she was finally free to relax. She sighed and leaned for a moment against Muku’s side. Then she stretched and climbed atop the Allos.
“Hoy,” she called at one of the Baryo riders. “I’m not needed for the bagging and tagging, right?”
The Baryo rider shook his head. “Nah, we’ve got it under control,” he called back. “You off-duty now?”
“Might as well be. Even if I wasn’t finished here, Muku’s injured. He won’t be much use for chasing down suspects.” Muku snorted and swivelled his head to stare at her. She lifted her eyebrow and added, “Let’s see you walk without limping, big guy.” He snorted and shook his head. “Anyway, I’ll be heading off, then.”
“Back to the lodge?”
“No, back home. I’m done here. Give my regards to the lodgemaster and the others.”
“Will do, Rider Kikala. Safe ride.”
“You too.”
She carefully wheeled Muku about (he certainly did limp, making his normal smooth gait incredibly lopsided) and left the warehouse. She turned him towards the northwest, where lay Fa-Sufjhan and its lodge, the city she called home with Dima. It was a weeklong ride, though Muku’s injury would slow them considerably.
“Right, Muku, think you can make it home?” she asked, scratching Muku’s eyeridge. He barked. “Good. Let’s get on home, then.”
I don't know if anyone's actually reading my story "Ironbone," but in case anyone is, here, have a list of the real-world dinosaurs I've used so far. (That is, if it's actually appeared, rather than if it's just been mentioned.) I'm going to add to this each time I update the story. (...IS anyone reading it? Please let me know if you are, I'm curious.)
Please note: Since "Ironbone" is a fantasy, the dinosaurs used aren't meant to be exact examples of their real-world counterparts! In other words, I might have taken liberties with biology. Hopefully there aren't any crying paleontologists in the audience, since I did try to maintain what real-world science I could. But if something I wrote royally annoys you, just repeat the MST3K Mantra: "It's just a story."
A/N: Nothing to say about this, really. I need to start posting these on my Fictionpress. Also, I probably ought to be including which dinosaurs are what in this; it's not like it's easy to figure out which ones are which just from the names I gave them. Maybe I'll just do a masterpost of all of them.
The journey back to the lodge was entirely uneventful; Ari and Myko had scared the bandits away so thoroughly that Dima found herself wondering if any Riders the lodge sent would be able to find them. She was eager to return and make her report, that she might return to her own lodge, farther to the south on the coast. She enjoyed travel, but she enjoyed eventually returning home, to familiar sights and faces. She especially longed to see her lover again; Amara had been away on a mission of her own, somewhere in her homeland. It had kept them apart for a month already. She whiled away the long ride daydreaming about her.
Joyuji sat silent atop his Gallim, constantly thinking about the summit, the bandits, and his own lover, from whom he’d been separated back in the canyon. But the summit and the bandits primarily occupied his thoughts. They had seemed to be unusually determined to kill him; he’d never heard of bandits starting rock falls just to kill two people, even if one of them was a crown prince and the other a rider sure to bring reinforcements. Could they have been hired mercenaries? It didn’t strike him as unlikely. He was, after all, on his way to convince Lucatia of the necessity of abolishing the clockwork slave trade; much of the country’s industry rested on metal shoulders. The manufacturing of clockwork slaves was a large part of their economy, as was the selling of them.
But abolishing the trade did not mean that the factories had to close, that they could no longer use clockwork automatons as workers. It simply meant that the automatons were not to be treated as tools. They were to be treated with the same dignity and respect as human workers, for, in Tokhan, they’d seen that their minds and feelings were as acute as any human’s. Surely others in Lucatia had seen the same.
There was, though, still a large contingent of factory owners and other individuals of industry who viewed the automatons as tools, who believed that the supposed sentience shown by the automatons was an illusion, a quirk of clockwork programming. After all, one did not treat clockwork beetles or other animals as real pets; why should clockwork automatons be any different? They were not living beings, they had no flesh and bone and surely no feelings. How could what was essentially a lump of steel and brass and copper and silver ever be anything other than a machine? They were tools, and should be treated as such. They did not have families to feed, sicknesses to overcome, feelings to protect.
Joyuji sighed. The attitude had been met and overcome in Tokhan, but Tokhan was his own country. The people knew him, knew his family, and trusted him. The people of Lucatia would not see him as anything other than an interfering busybody, meddling in the affairs of a country not his own. Anyone could have hired the mercenary bandits in the canyon, if mercenaries they had been. Any disgruntled politician, factory owner, automaton owner, anyone. It was luck that had seen him saved by Dima in that skirmish, and it had been luck and agile saurisches that had gotten him past the rock falls.
Finally, the lodge loomed on the horizon, its stucco façade shimmering in the heat. Protected by high walls, the lodge housed as many as one hundred Yutahr riders, fifty students and aspiring riders, and at least ten Thokye riders. It was one of the largest in Lucatia, built into the side of a mountain. The eyrie was located far up the mountainside, high enough that the Thokyes could simply launch themselves from the ledge and glide; they were consummate gliders, using every inch of their two-hundred square foot wings to carry them effortlessly from updraft to updraft. There were other flying saurisches, such as the Chaeyos and smaller Sornises, and a few other, smaller species related to Thokyes, but none of them could master the air currents the way a Thokye could. Only the extinct Zocas could out-glide them.
Ari veered away, heading for the eyrie, leaving Dima and Joyuji to make their way into the lodge unaccompanied. They dismounted and approached the gate, leading their saurisches by their reins. The two guards, both accompanied by two guard Velosses on thick chains, tipped their caps to Dima and bowed to Joyuji. The Velosses growled faintly at Kita, but the Yutahr showed marvellous disdain and ignored them entirely. Areesh snapped irritably at one of Velosses, and it yipped and ducked behind the guard. Dima cuffed Areesh and glared at him. He didn’t look contrite in the least.
Once behind the lodge walls, Dima turned to Joyuji.
“I’ll have to report to the lodgemaster as soon as I see Kita stabled,” she said. “If you like, you may do the same, although Haya will have to go to the Gallim stables; no matter how well-trained she is, being in a stable full of Yutahrs is sure to alarm her. I trust you informed your bodyguard that you were coming to this lodge?”
“Yes. I told him to come here as soon as he could.”
“Good. This is probably the best place for you to wait for him. The Gallim stables are this way.”
Dima led him to the Gallim stables, where one of the hands took Haya and saw her settled with water and a basket of fresh greens. She then stabled Kita and headed for the lodgemaster’s office.
The report went no better or worse than any other report Dima had ever given. The lodgemaster, a stern, middle-aged woman with iron-grey hair, promised to send two full troops of Yutahrs and a flight of Thokyes into the canyon to weed out the bandits and find whatever remained of Joyuji’s soldiers. She also extended every courtesy to the foreign prince; older riders were consummate diplomats, as many of them had to be. Riders were outside any government, a hard-fought and hard-won privilege, and so lodgemasters in particular had to be careful. No matter how strong the riders were, the government was, in all likelihood, stronger, if only because the government could muster greater numbers. Dima privately suspected this was why so many lodges were built in defensible locations and designed like military forts.
Certainly the lodgemaster held no love of the clockwork slave trade; all menial tasks at the lodge were carried out by trainees, and all the mounts were cared for by their riders. Riders were taught complete self-sufficiency from an early age, and never had much use for servants of any kind, be they flesh or metal. But, Joyuji noted, the lodgemaster was careful to avoid expressing any opinion on the matter whatsoever. She didn’t love it, that much was obvious, but also obvious was that she didn’t hate it. Lodgemasters were required to be as neutral as possible on every matter, so that they might carry out their duties with as little trouble as possible. They would find Joyuji’s soldiers, but if it had been one of the slave owners in his place, they would behave just the same, and offer the slave owner the same courtesies they offered Joyuji. For a man who had been pampered and given special treatment all his life, no matter his distaste for it in adulthood, to be treated like any other person, it was pleasantly jarring. Joyuji hated to be held above others simply because of his position, a position he had inherited rather than earned, and the lodgemaster holding in the same regard as an ordinary man was like a breath of fresh air. Given his choice, he would tear down the monarchy and replace it with a democracy.
The two left the lodgemaster’s office and headed down into the lodge proper. Joyuji turned to Dima.
“So, Rider la-Miyal,” he said. (It was customary for only riders to refer to each other by their first names; anyone else used their surnames.) “I suppose this is good-bye?”
“It is, Your Excellency,” Dima replied. “Good-bye, and good luck at the summit.” She bowed and shook his hand, and then left, her sash and the tail of her scarf fluttering in her wake.
She headed straight for the stables. Kita would be rested enough by now; she’d spent two hours in the lodgemaster’s office, which was more than long enough for him to recover from the journey. Even for a Yutahr, Kita’s stamina was nothing short of incredible. She couldn’t entirely suppress a smile as she thought of him; she was well aware that other riders never regarded their mounts as highly as she did, but cared little. Kita was like a brother to her, just as his mother was like a sister to Miyal, Dima’s mother. Areesh, too.
In the stable, she saddled Kita and roused Areesh from the pile of straw he’d been sleeping in.
“Up, up, you lazy thing,” she said to him. “Come, we’re going home.”
