Miniverse

Almost Dead

Almost DeadThe heart was so complicated, Bicepa could hardly follow. Briana had given up explaining to her when she couldn’t understand why the heart was connected to the lungs, but Bicepa just wouldn’t stop pestering her.

After they had journeyed through a set of winding paths, the train took a sharp turn into a huge tunnel.

“The pulmonary artery,” Briana gasped, marvelling at the windows. “I’ve never seen it before. Wow.”

“The what?” Bicepa snapped, a little rudely.

Briana looked like she wanted to punch her in the face, but she explained, “It’s the artery that carries blood to the lungs so that the RBCs can collect oxygen.”

“Oh,” Bicepa said, though she hadn’t understood. “The lungs must be exciting.”

“I wouldn’t say that. The air pressure during inhalation-”

“Okay!” Bicepa snapped.

“-during inhalation alone can kill us,” Briana finished.

Bicepa’s eyes spined in a circle. “You’re a know-it-all.”

Briana shot her a threatening look. Bicepa figured that if she said more, Briana would toast her.

They were presumably halfway through. The red walls of the tunnel had a slight purplish tint. They looked rubbery and thick, and vaguely resembled Bicepa’s home – the biceps muscle. Little lamps sprang from the walls every metre or so, washing them with dim yellow light.

The younger RBCs still wrestled before the doors. Older cells shook their heads in disappointment, muttering to themselves. The other blood cells seemed unfazed, rather amused by the entertainers.

Brighter, white light from ahead told them that they were reaching the lungs. The tunnel opened into a massive platform. The lung-cells had maintained their train stations really well. The tiles, and walls were painted pinkish-peach. Instead of a ceiling, a massive dome sheltered the area. It was strangely rubbery, but still beautiful none the less. A fire crackled in the corner.

The RBCs got too excited. They kicked and pushed and plunged the compartment into havoc. The other blood cells were now only mildly annoyed, holding on to railings or each other.

Bicepa did the mistake of not clutching something. Soon, she saw why she should have. She was pulled along in a wave of young yelling RBCs. She could barely dodge their aimless attacks, much less grip something quickly. Briana grabbed her hand, but instead of hauling her back to her seat, got pulled away too.

They were forced to either get stampeded or board a capillary. Obviously, they chose the latter. The capillary compartment was just like the one Bicepa had seen in the brain – smaller, tubed, with a snout in the front and a flat back. Briana suspected that more RBCs had crammed in than the compartment could carry, but it trailed along with its group just fine. Bicepa struggled to catch her breath. Briana rose above the crowd and peaked outside. They were advancing towards an uncountable number of bubbles at an alarming rate.

“Where?” Bicepa gasped, emerging from throng.

“The air sacs,” Briana explained. “Each one is a station for several capillaries. It’s where RBCs get their oxygen.”

“How do they get oxygen?” Bicepa wondered. The fact that she was in a messy situation had not kept her curiosity at bay.

“I don’t know, Bicepa. Maybe after we deal with this, you can ask an RBC for tutorials. In fact, why don’t you become an RBC yourself? Then I can-”

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the screech of brakes and a sudden halt. The RBCs lost control. They raced towards the sliding door, almost breaking the compartment’s interiors, like an angry mob of protesters. The duo got pulled along as well.

The horde poured into an already overcrowded road. They ran towards the air sac ahead. Bicepa and Briana tried to stay back, but they were sailed towards the big, pink bubble ahead.

The air sac was a big, rubbery sphere with a big hole at their end. It was dotted with pores big enough for a small cell to get through. As Bicepa watched, RCBs crowded the pores, opened their bags, deflated them as the air poured out, waited, then reflated them as the air poured in. Even from this far away, Bicepa could feel the course of the wind. It kept changing every few minutes, from towards them to away from them.

They got hauled to the rim of the entrance. Bicepa peeked inside, trying to get a better look, and suddenly she was thrust into the bubble.

She slammed into something rubber-soft. “Ow,” she complained.

By the time she was on her feet, Briana had reached her side.

“Curse that cell,” she muttered. “He ran past you so fast; you were-”

Suddenly the winds changed course. The girls were pulled towards the rim of a small hole.

Bicepa wished she had listened to Briana’s lecture about air pressure. The wind seemed to be tugging at her with such force she had to crawl to stay put.

They huddled together at the edge, waiting for the winds to change direction. Bicepa wasn’t sure what was outside, but she’d heard stories. She’d heard of deaths of RBCs who hadn’t been very careful.

“Exhalation!” Briana cried. “No way! It’ll chuck us out of the empire!”

“What?” Bicepa demanded, her voice barely heard over the wind.

“Just hold on!”

Bicepa tried to grab the flesh, but it was too tight to wrinkle. The gust of wind was too strong. Bicepa got sucked through the hole. She gripped the edge with all her might. Her whole body tensed; her eyes squeezed shut. She did not want to see what was outside.

Her left hand slowly slipped off, dangling below her uselessly. Now clutching the edge tightly with only her right hand, she felt hopeless. She mustered some bravery and looked at the wind pipe above – a light peach-coloured pipe that seemed to be sucking all the air. Bicepa was certain she would die. Her eyes began tearing up.

Just as she’d lost all hope, a warm but rough hand gripped her wrist. Bicepa recognised it from their past escape from the artery. Slowly, Briana pulled her inside.

At first, Bicepa was too shook to do anything but gasp with relief. Briana sat in front of her, her face sheathed in sweat, panting with exhaustion. The wind was still tugging at them, but it was mellower.

“Thanks,” Bicepa mumbled.

“Out of here?” Briana suggested.

“Please.”

The last of the RBCs were leaving. They did not want to be around for a second round of oxygen. They joined at the back of the group.

From there, they didn’t have to worry. The RBCs, who looked a bit more professional now, carried them through the capillary and back into the train – a crowded compartment of an artery, they realised. They slumped onto two seats in the corner, still trying to grasp what had happened.

When they arrived at the heart, Briana relaxed.

“Thanks,” Bicepa began. “If it wasn’t for you-”

“You would’ve died,” Briana completed. “I hope that at least now you understand how irresponsible you’ve been, breaking the laws. Ready to go back home?”

“Except that we’re being tracked down and have a criminal status.”

Briana’s expression hardened. “And it’s all your fault.”

Bicepa frowned, but she couldn’t argue. Briana had just saved her life. Plus, it was her fault.

An announcement interrupted their peaceful conversation. “Our team of WBCs suspect that rogue cells might be in one of the arteries,” blared a grave voice. “Please do not panic. We have ensured that every compartment of an artery that leaves the heart is heavily patrolled. We apologise for any inconvenience. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Bicepa gulped. The WBCs must have detected two rogue cells in the air sacs. They had to get away, and they had to get away soon.