The earth-mapped beetv becomes larger than the screen, until only parts of facets are visible. One spins and hits us; we burst through into the center of the icosahedron, where the edge of the atmosphere is rapidly receding before the pressure of outer space (and its folk). The walls of the inner tv continue to rotate, until we suddenly find ourselves locked in front of a single edge, where mirroring views of the encroaching dark can be seen.     I followed my enemies through the bee-television, to emerge in the air above Basra, southern Iraq, in the year 1991.