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Metaphor of a Cell
by Jon Trefz
The crisp breeze lightly waltzed across the deck. The flags atop the mast gently swayed and rippled like the tail of a cat asleep in a warm lap. I lazily reclined across the seat of a lifeboat, complacently smoking away my break, contemplating all the things I'd rather be doing on a Friday night. Hundreds of lights glared or winked at me from the sprawling naval station. The navel of the Republic of Richard was the most efficient and thus most stringent of any nation. Every ship was kept on a constant state of readiness. I watched a Shipyard crew bustling about on the deck below, fawning over our vessel like ants to their queen. They were busy supplying our great vessel with the materials needed for us to set sail at a moment's notice. Carefully they regulated what came aboard, thereby abiding by the strict regulations of what supplies were required on a naval ship. A soft electric chime emanated from my wrist, signifying the end of my break. Sorely and with great reluctance I rose, stood and stretched. With a great foggy sigh I made my way below the deck into the drab, mechanical belly of the ship to serve my next shift.
My next eighteen hours were destined to be spend operating the Golgi apparatus. The Golgi is a huge machine used to modify and sort unfinished supplies made in the two onboard processing plants. The route to the Golgi included a catwalk suspended between the two plants. The first, nicknamed "The Smoothy" by the crew, processed material needed for steelwork, insulation, and long term energy stores. The second, nicknamed "The Rough House", produced steel for installation in the ship's walls, floors and ceilings. It also produced shells, missiles, and torpedoes. Looking below the catwalk I saw a container full of steel panels running down a conveyer belt from the Rough House to the Golgi. The catwalk let me to a ladder, which I descended. From there I followed a passageway past a water storage tank and a bit further on I passed a group of officers. They were waiting to receive orders from the bridge that they might be able to translate from the complicated command code to the lay terms of the common enlisted man. Just before I came to the hatch that led to the Golgi Control Centre, I saw a small crew disassembling a small chamber. I asked one why they were doing this and he responded "This chamber has lost its function." Not caring to waste any time, I hurried to my post and relieved the previous operator of duty, sparking a great deal of gratitude.
Ten hours of dull, redundant labor later, the loudspeaker came to life with orders to set sail. At this I was consumed by a wave of exhilaration. This would be the maiden voyage of my ship, The HMS Tadpole in Parentheses. The message went on to explain the purpose of our mission. Apparently the Republic of Richard had declared war on The Katherine Empire. The navy was to be mobilized in a massive initial attack codenamed 'Operation Zygote'. Much later I was to learn the purpose of Operation Zygote. It seemed that the Katherine Empire, run under a sadistic, oppressive feminist system, with no regard for the basic principles of masculinity, was planning to construct an outpost on the banks of the Uterine Ocean. Our mission was to invade and take control of the outpost, which was speculated to eventually grow and expand past the influence of the evil empire and become a nation in its own right.
With a great sense of patriotism, and safe in the knowledge that all that is good and holy was on our side, the ship set sail. The powerful engine transformed into energy, propelling our mighty vessel out of port. Upon leaving the great port of Epididymis, we entered the mighty Vas Deferens River, which flowed into the Urethral Channel. From here the fleet sailed into foreign seas.
Not a single one of our great ships had ever fared the Vaginal Ocean and returned to tell about it. Once our hulls had been caressed by its dark waves, we discovered why. The Vaginal Ocean was fraught with perilous danger. Its treacherous currents threatened to swallow the fleet and lay it to rest in the murky deep. Indeed many of our fare ships failed to reach the straits of cervix. My ship had better fortune. Upon navigating the straits, we were met with the equally perilous Uterine Ocean, and the moral of our semen became faint. Many more fine ships were lost to the churning waves of these foreboding waters. Nonetheless we pressed on, keeping our glorious mission in mind until finally the mouth of the Fallopian Channel was sighted on the horizon. Plenty of rejoicing was enjoyed by all at the sign of the final stage of our voyage. However, any sense of security was without foundation, for we saw many of our countrymen drown as their ships ran aground on the rocky shores of the Fallopian Channel. Our forces had been reduced to a mere fraction of their original might and prospects of victory began to look gloomy. Just as the situation seemed to be at its worst, the palisade of our target came into sight. A somber air fell about the fleet as we prepared for combat.
Once the fleet was in range we let loose a formidable artillery barrage. Despite our valiant efforts, every one of our ships was destroyed, except for my own. We fired every piece of weaponry we had on them, just barely managing to knock out a section of the protective wall. We were the ordered to beach our vessel in the gap so that a landing party could invade and oust the feminist government. We made such a powerful impact that the bridge of our ship, weakened by the rough seas, ripped itself from the vessel and hurled into the confines of the outpost. Miraculously the occupants of the bridge, our commanders, were unharmed and safely vacated the rubble. They were met by a diplomatic procession from the feminist government. Although wary at first, our commanding officers agreed to a diplomatic meeting to determine the fate of the outpost. They took a briefcase containing the constitution of the great nation of Richard to the meeting. The two powers learned to coexist and the constitutions of both nations were combined, determining the future of a great country - later known as the Dominion of Chris.
© 2001 Jon Trefz
Dieser Beitrag enstand im Rahmen einer Hausarbeit im Fach Biologie zum Thema "The Cell", Graduation Class 2001, Victoria High School in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Ein herzliches Dankeschön, Jon J und Ms. Nordstrom.
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