Maralinga by Judy Nunn Page B

standing by the slide projector at the rear of the room.
    Shades were drawn over the windows, the room dimmed, and a large map of Australia appeared on the screen. Picking up the slender wooden baton that served as an indicator, William Penney proceeded to give an account of the testing ground, its location and the reasons for its choice.
    The Maralinga site, he explained, was approximately 250 miles north-west of the coastal township of Ceduna, and roughly 600 miles from Adelaide, the capital city of South Australia. A remote region where the Great Victoria Desert met the Nullarbor Plain, it was barren, uninhabited and the perfect choice for nuclear weapon testing. The desert terrain was flat with little scrub cover, but sandhills to the south formed a natural barrier, which was ideal for security purposes. His glance at Harold Dartleigh was a reminder that security was always uppermost in his mind.
    Harold read the meaning in the glance and smiled pleasantly.
    Penney called for the next slide, and a plan of the site appeared on the screen. He talked his team through its layout: the landing strip and airport, the experimental areas and laboratories, and the village designed to accommodate, during peak requirements, up to 3000 men.
    Contrary to Harold’s scathing opinion, William Penney excelled in command, and the team members present, most of whom had worked with him on previous projects and held him in high regard, listened respectfully as he continued.
    Further slides were projected and, over images depicting a vast and desolate landscape, Penney explained the harsh conditions under which they would all live – the searing heat of the days and the unexpected chill of the desert nights. He summed up with good humour, however. ‘Most of the time it’ll be as hot as Hades,’ he said, ‘but the army is building a swimming pool, so all is not lost.’
    There were chuckles amongst the men, and, as Penney placed the baton on the table signalling the end of his talk, there was a smattering of applause, which he acknowledged but quickly stemmed, holding up his hands for silence.
    â€˜I have received notification from the Prime Minister’s Office that MI6 is taking a particularly strong interest in the Maralinga project. As everyone here is aware, security has been a foremost issue in all our past work, and will continue to be so at Maralinga. I am sure, therefore, that you will all join me in welcoming aboard Harold Lord Dartleigh, who, as most of you will know, is the deputy director of MI6.’
    The abrupt, and very pointed, introduction did not in the least bother Harold who rose from his chair offering his hand.
    â€˜Thank you, Sir William,’ he said.
    As they shook, Harold gained a smug satisfaction from the image they presented. No-one could fail to notice that the peer of the realm stood a good half a head taller than the bespectacled little scientist.
    Gesturing that the floor was now Harold’s, William Penney retired to a nearby chair, and Harold initiated a token round of applause, which to some might have seemed just a fraction patronising.
    â€˜One might well ask what possible advantage MI6 has to offer in the light of Sir William’s impeccable leadership over the years,’ he said with a smile, which, if intended to be self-deprecating, didn’t work, but then he didn’t really intend it to. ‘And the answer is very little, because very little is necessary. Our presence at Maralinga will simply be an added precaution, given the precarious and uncertain times in which we live.’
    He beckoned to his assisting officer, and Ned, a burly, pleasant-looking man in his early thirties, joined him.
    â€˜I’d like to introduce Ned Hanson of MI6’s Defence Signals Branch who will be permanently stationed at Maralinga.’ Dropping the charm, Harold got down briskly to the business of the day. ‘I’d be most grateful if you’d extend Ned