Our story begins on a cold, gray morning in March 2000.  A Liberian oil tanker loaded with Arabian crude slides through the coastal waters south of Long Island, NY.  Inside its hold, resting on the surface of its inner oily sea, are two very special carbon atoms, Carlos and Carla, the hero and heroine of this story.  Their voyage across the Atlantic Ocean had not been especially pleasant.  They had slopped around in a dark, smelly hold for over three weeks, the seas had been rough, and there was nothing to do but wait.

"This isn't the greatest way to start our adventure," Carla complained.  "It's not that I don't appreciate escaping from that bottomless pit in Saudi Arabia after millions of years, but the constant throb of those engines is really getting on my nerves."

Her mate, Carlos, bonded to Carla for as long as he could remember, did his best to reassure her.  "We're almost there," he replied.  Did you hear that slight change in tone of the engines just now?  I'll bet we're approaching our destination.  Maybe we're coming to the United States of America!"

"Oh Carlos, you're such an optimistic dreamer!  But what would I do without you?  I don't get any sympathy from Caruso over there."  She was referring to the carbon atom attached to her opposite side.

Carlos was rather glad of this.  He liked having Carla all to himself.  He was the terminal atom in their long hydrocarbon chain, so Carla was the only other carbon atom nearby.  Of course, nobody paid any attention to those mindless hydrogen atoms buzzing around.  There was also a special attraction about Carla.  She had incredible intuition, and she often revealed remarkably deep insight.  As Carlos thought about this, he asked her if she had any premonitions about their new adventure.

"Oh, I do worry a lot, Carlos.  Even with my limited knowledge of chemistry, I know that some dreadful things could happen to us.  But I also know that I'll recover, and ultimately I'll be happy, as long as I can be close to you."

Suddenly they both heard it.  There was a distinct lowering in the noise level from the engines.  The rolling motion of the ship was less noticeable now.  They were probably entering some harbor.  Perhaps it was New York?  Carlos and Carla hugged each other with delight.  They were giddy with happiness at the prospect of their big adventure together.  For the moment, premonitions of possible misadventures ahead were forgotten.

At that moment their ship slid quietly underneath the Verrazano Narrows bridge. It passed Staten Island to port, and slowly approached the dock at the Jersey City Terminal, within sight of the Statue of Liberty.

                                                         *               *               *

They were awakened from their slumber by a loud noise on the deck above.  A hatch was opened, and photons of light passed by them, bouncing from atom to atom.  A large tube entered the hatch and plunged to the bottom of the hold.  After a few minutes they heard a shout and then the throb of a pump.  Slowly, very slowly, the level of petroleum in the hold began to fall. 

Now Carla began to worry. "Carlos, can you tell me what's going to happen to us?"

Carlos loved to show off his knowledge of chemistry, so he answered in a roundabout way. "Well," he began, "most of the hydrocarbons in crude oil are long chains of 15 to 18 carbon atoms, and our molecule has 16 atoms, so we'll just stay with our cousins near the surface of this thick brew for several more hours until we're siphoned out of here."

"But where will we go from here?" Carla persisted.

"I expect we'll be stored in a large tank somewhere, until they need us." Carlos was deliberately vague.  He knew they would be refined, probably into high-octane gasoline, stored again, and eventually burned in some internal combustion engine, and he didn't want Carla to worry about their future together. Even Carlos worried that he might lose her in the process, so he changed the subject. "Carla, where would you most like to travel as we cycle through different carbon-containing molecules?"

Not catching her mate's ruse at first, Carla launched into a wishful daydream. "Funny that you should ask," she replied.  "Let's assume that your hunch is right, that we really are in USA. My anwer's simple" I'd like to see it all. I'm so tired of being stuck underground as oil for millions of years, I'll be happy to hang out in America in just about any life form."  Then she realized what Carlos had done, so she demanded, "But you've been trying to distract me, haven't you?"

"Well," Carlos replied, "I'm genuinely interested in your views, but yes, I did want to change the subject."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know our future beyond the generalities I gave you. Besides, sometimes it's best not to know."

                                                 *                      *                     *

It was difficult to tell when it started, because it had such an incidious beginning.  They felt themselves being drawn closer to the tip of the tube near the bottom of the hold.  They entered a vortex of slowly swirling oil around the entrance of the siphon, and then they were drawn up through its orifice.

"Carlos, I"m getting dizzy, going around and around like this!"

"Not to worry, Carla. We're protected by other molecules all around us, for they are lubricating our way.  Just lie back and enjoy the ride.  Believe me, this will be a piece of cake!"

Soon they were sliding through a long pipe.  The throbbing sound of the pump grew louder as they entered its chamber. Huge blades whirled past them and pushed them violently against their neighbors.  Finally they were poured into a vast storage tank.

                                                 *                      *                *

A month passed.  Life in a New Jersey storage tank was getting boring, almost as dull as it had been back in Saudi Arabia.  One day Carla asked, "When are we going to get out of here, Carlos?"

"Pretty soon now," Carlos replied.

"Are you sure, or are you just trying to reassure me?"

"Oh I'm sure alright."  Carlos continued, "Have you noticed the increase in pressure from the accumulation of oil that has been pouring on top of us every few days this month?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right. I do feel more pressure than a month ago."

"Well, they must be drawing us down to the bottom of the tank to make room for all the oil they've been pouring on top of us. We'll be piped out of a tap down here pretty soon."

Sure enough, a few hours later, just as they were starting to doze off, they heard a valve open and felt themselves slide into action again.  Before long they entered a vast chamber that was much warmer than their storage tank had been. Molecules around them began to slide more rapidly around one another as they got warmer and warmer.

"Ummm, I love this heat," Carla crooned.  "How long is this going to last?"

"Only as long as it takes to break one of the bonds in our hydrocarbon chain, so enjoy it while you can."

"Oh my goodness, hang on tight, Carlos! I don't want to lose my bond with you."

"How sweet you are," Carlos replied joyfully, "but you needn't worry very much this time.  We're inside a 'craking tower', where the temperature is very carefully controlled.  Since you and I are at one end of our molecule, the bond between us isn't as likely to be broken and one near the middle."

As the temperature climbed slowly but relentlessly higher, they suddenly felt lighter and moved about more freely.  They had become part of a molecule half their original size, called octane.  Their other half drifted away, but Carla and Carlos remained together as they were siphoned off from the cracking tower into a different storage tank.

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