A Voyage through the Micro-Verse to Save Life on Planet Earth

Day 16: 0800 hours... “It was your reflection in the porthole,” Barron Wolfe states with a dismissive certainty that I envy. “I wish that it had been,” I respond.   “Not only did it not look anything like me, it was clearly outside the ship.” “How can you be sure?” asks Lyra.   “I mean, maybe your reflection combined with the dim light in the cabin…” “Whatever, or whomever it was swatted a flagellating bacterium out of its way before it vanished back into the dark.   No, it was clearly outside.   But before it disappeared, it looked straight at me – into me.     And its eyes…”   I cannot find the words to finish my thought. “Some microorganism then,” theorizes Barron.   “But it couldn’t have been human – not without a helmet or suit.” “What about its eyes?” pressed Lyra. “They were piercing… penetrating…   curious and intelligent,” I tell her.   “But not…”   And again, words fail me.   “...

Day 13: 0900 hours... Last night passed, at least for myself, with little sleep.   Slumber was kept at bay by a mind overly occupied, pondering the dilemma we now face of generating steam to drive our engine, but doing so without emitting carbon gasses.   We’ve learned from our observation of single-celled pond life and from our recent run-in with the flatworm, that most aquatic microorganisms have the ability to detect the presence of CO 2 – the universal product of aerobic respiration.   These organisms are adept at locating prey by following a trail of carbon dioxide – an ingenious evolutionary adaption.   Our own engine, which burns oil to generate heat, to in-turn boil water for steam, has the same effect on predators.   I am amazed that we aren’t now digesting in some micro beastie’s belly!   I am faced with the inescapable conclusion that it is only by luck and fast-thinking that we have avoided such a fate.   Surv...

Day 12: 1515 hours... Vorticella never lie … will be etched upon my grave – if this day plays out the way the last hour has been going.   We quickly learned what alarmed the stalked ciliates… a planarian!   This predatory flatworm has caught our scent – probably sensing the carbon dioxide from Cyclops’ engine boiler exhaust. “As a wise man once said: you can’t outrun a planarian,” warns Lyra in an analytical tone that defies the peril we were in. “Oh yeah?   Watch me!” snaps Gyro, then shouts into the voice pipe:   “Barron, give me everything you’ve got!” We have been trying to evade this denizen of the aquatic weed forest for the better part of an hour, but to no avail. We can neither outrun it, nor out-maneuver it through a maze of water plants and bottom detritus.   At every turn the flatworm sways its enormous head from side to side, using its ear-like chemical detectors to track our every move with uncanny precision.   I...

  Day 12: 1015 hours... The celluloid is rolling! We are now several days into the production of a moving picture documentary. When complete, our film will feature the numerous kinds of microscopic organisms found throughout the pond. The recent acquisition of several oxygen-producing algal protists has extended how long we can remain submerged, allowing for lengthier observations… and more time to “get the shot,” as they say. We are currently navigating our way through the dense and occasionally treacherous weedy shallows – treacherous because navigation is more hazardous, and one never knows what micro-denizens may lurk in the shadows of this aquatic jungle. Because of the abundant aquatic plant life for shelter, and plentiful sunlight, this region offers safe haven for a rich diversity of microorganisms.   Again and again we see, whilst filming, the relationship between hunter organisms – and organisms that graze. The hunters, or predators, capture and ...