The flying woman didn't fly above the clouds. "It's cold up there," she'd say, "and there's not enough air." She skimmed the roofs and treetops. Her legs dangled behind her, and she wore her wheelchair strapped to her back.
However, not everyone is confident the ice will be able to be harvested as a useful resource. The temperature in the perpetual dark of those craters is hundreds of degrees below zero, making the ice steel-hard and razor-sharp.
See Spot / gazing out the porthole / of his space capsule, looking / down at Dick and Jane
