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						So far, you love the summer job you landed this year--piloting a<br>submersible for the Remote Transit Company, just before starting high<br>school.								
						RTC specializes in hauling delicate cargo to underwater research<br>facilities on the floor of the Pacific Ocean.								
						Making several deliveries a<br>day has been fun.								
						But, there are certainly risks to this work. 								
						Each time<br>you drop under the waves you must remain vigilant. 								
						You have to watch<br>out for a terrifying sea beast that few survive--the giant squid.								
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						To date, you haven't seen a single squid during your dozen or so<br>trips to Atlantis 12--a domed facility in which top-secret experiments<br>take place.								
						As propeller blades push you downward into the cold, murky<br>depths, you reach for the dashboard to play some music.								
						But, your hand<br>freezes, mid-air, as you suddenly spot a dark, massive creature fifty feet<br>to your right.								
						Glowing eyes and a bulbous head loom in your forward<br>lights, as it closes in--its slimy arms ready to crush your hull.								
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						Refusing to become a monster's lunch, you tap your touchscreen to<br>call RTC Central Command.								
						Moments later, the annoyed, bearded face of<br>your supervisor, Mr. Haddock, fills the video screen.								
						Training kicking in,<br>you jerk the wheel sharply left and push the speed lever to take evasive<br>maneuvers--briefly putting distance between you and that thing.								
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						"This is Haddock.								
						What is it now, Driver 17? 								
						Did you spill soda all<br>over the control panel again?" your boss grumbles--irritated.								
						"I swear, if<br>I have to pay to get that unit cleaned one more time..."								
						You cut him off<br>mid-sentence, blurting out in a panic that the biggest squid you've<br>ever seen is on your tail, while asking how to lose it.								
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						Mr. Haddock tells you to relax--noting that you have no idea how<br>big it really is, as it's your first sighting.								
						You sigh with relief, momentarily<br>thinking you might have lost the hungry animal in the gloom.								
						Yet, it<br>quickly reappears, on the rear camera feed, in full pursuit.								
						Sweat pours<br>down your forehead.								
						Your heart races.								
						This squid, it seems, is hunting<br>you.								
						"I bet I can go faster if I release the cargo," you suggest.								
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						"No!" shouts Mr. Haddock.								
						"You do that and you're fired.								
						We must<br>never lose a customer's shipment.								
						On your dashboard is a red button.<br>								
						The one with the insignia of a cloud on it.								
						When the squid closes within<br>about ten feet, hit it.								
						Don't hesitate.								
						You got that?"								
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						You nod vigorously--knocking your ball cap into your lap.								
						"Press it<br>too soon, and it won't work. Do it too late, and well..."								
						You look down at<br>the large, circular button.								
						All this time you wondered what it was for, but<br>never remembered to ask.								
						You wait roughly thirty seconds more, until<br>the organism lunges within range, and slam your fist down on that<br>trigger like a boxer going for a knockout punch.								
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						At first, nothing seems to happen.								
						There are no loud explosions.<br>								
						Harpoons don't shoot out to spear the squid.								
						However, just as your hope<br>fades, a plume of dark, brownish liquid erupts into the water behind<br>you--spreading out fast.								
						"Did you release the repellant?" asks Mr.<br>Haddock.								
						You slump back, relieved--bobbing your head up, and down,<br>to confirm the monstrosity has disappeared.								
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						"That's synthetically engineered squid stink," adds Mr. Haddock.<br>								
						"It tricks those demons into thinking they should flee.								
						The stuff costs a<br>fortune, but only works half the time."								
						You acknowledge his explanation,<br>disconnect the video call, and steer your vessel onward--in the direction<br>of Atlantis 12.								
						As your breathing slows, you sit up straight in the pilot's<br>perch and whisper, "After this, I think I might find a new job."								
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