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AFTER FLYING ABOVE A DEEP ACHING blue ocean which seemed to extend forever, the SKYbus finally began its slow descend towards Tuggera Station, a research facility in Wilkes Land, the Australian Antarctic Territory. Wilkes Land was a sparsely populated region of military bases and observation posts, the odd mining prospecting crew or two -- to be honest mostly just rocks and ice. One day there would be human colonies on the moon and Mars, and Antarctica was the natural staging post -- it was an alien enough place to acclimatise. Apart from the penquins and scientests there wasn't much life in this beautiful barren backwater -- just the odd biosphere or husky tour group. After flying over a deep blue berg-studded ocean which seemed to extend forever the SKYbus began its descent, and Tuggerah Station was getting ready for an almighty welcome.

Tuggerah Station was the finest scientific outpost on the continent, having at its heart the International Astronomy and Ionospheric Radio Telescope Centre, a testament to the ingenuity and technological advances of the 21st century. As the SKYbus began banking for the final descent Sato caught sight of the observatory. His eyes were immediately drawn to the immense reflector dish, a thousand meters in diameter - a truly impressive feat of engineering. Its size rivaled that of a small town, and it was encased in a fitting white covering of Nomex insulation panels, a necessary protection against the unforgiving polar climate.

Hanging midair some 100 metres above the centre of the dish was the triangular-shaped radio receiver, a spindly white-paneled structure 80 metres across. The receiver was suspended on cables anchored to four massive steel towers positioned around the perimeter of the dish. Access to the receiver was provided by a ski-lift cable-car rigged to one of the towers.

A cluster of long semicylindrical concrete buildings resembling Quonset huts was situated several hundred metres from the big dish. In the midst of these buildings was a large domelike structure which housed the control room. It was encircled by a forest of radio antennas (the only forest in Antarctica, apart from the NASA biospheres and the grottoes.) Nearby was a blockhouse containing an enormous diesel generator for use during power failures. And beyond the little settlement was nothing but rocks and ice.

The SKYbus skidded on an ice-laden runway just south of Tuggerah, its engines screaming in protest as its pilot reversed thrust and applied brakes. Within 10 minutes or so Sato had kissed goodbye to the luxury of presidential class and the venison and whiskey shots, and was being bundled into an Antarctic survival suit. Ice crunched under his feet. The giant ear reared like a sculpture above him, white and stark against the grey overcast sky. <<Jesus>> Sato said, back in his old Brookyln voice. <<Wouldn't want to live here.>>






polar signal -- total whiteout.
copyright plankettpods april 19 2002.
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