text: Surfacing \ Readying his shocker spear, rhythmic waves bounce the jockey up and down as another whine of migratory drones fly overhead towards the shore. “Hurry up, coaster... we don’t have all day”, crackles the patrol captain from the jockey’s ear-bud. “Oh don’t mind me, I just LOVE the smell of putrid fish and toxic runoff. I’d be out here forever if you’d let me,” the jockey replies snidely. Just one more catch container to fill with fish before nightfall. He needed this haul to be complete or it would be another week stuck on land. The jockey looked toward his spear tip noticing the exposed wires from the hilt and dulled-edge of the blade. Scanning the murky water surrounding him, he spots the familiar yellow glow of a leader fish roughly 25 meters below. The jockey pulls in a deep breath, cocks his arm back as he’s practiced all his life, and with the downward motion of his hauler craft he chucks the spear into the water with a splash. The spear’s homing sensors flicker with electricity as the blade punctures the glowing fish. The jockey waits for the soft thud of the usual electrical pulse that can be heard upon a successful catch. No thud. The spear isn’t returning. The smaller pack fish around the leader have scattered. “SHIT shit shit shit... no...” In a flash, the jockey jumps out of his saddle on the craft. He zips up his wetsuit, throws his breathing mask and goggles on and steps to one side of the craft. He can still see the diminishing remnants of the faint glow below him as the misty sky above grows darker. The jockey dives headfirst into the water swimming as fast as he can towards the leader fish. *Please don’t let this happen to me again,* he thinks as he comes within a few meters of the dying fish. He grips the handle of the spear and feels around for the controls as the final sparks flicker within the 100 lb fish. Frantically clicking the squarish button on the hilt of the spear, the inflatable won’t deploy. Panic sets in as the jockey looks up at the dying light above the water. Coaster horror stories flood into his mind as he grapples with the impending dread of being submerged in complete darkness while night takes over. *I do NOT want to meet whatever fish come out down here after dark*. He’ll have to swim. Gripping the spear with both hands, the jockey begins to kick his legs furiously, propelling him and the fish towards the surface. Dragging the huge fish for what feels like hours, he finally emerges from the infested void. Climbing on to the wireframe cargo carrier attached to the back of the craft, he starts to pull the fish out of the water. The fish is frustratingly heavy as he drops it into the remaining empty catch container. The container appears almost empty with one lone leader fish. It’ll have to do. The spear in his hands is broken and will need extensive repairs. The jockey lets out a frustrated sigh as night falls. He presses the dispatch button on the craft’s center console, notifying a drone to come claim his haul. After the drone buzzes off, he pilots the craft back towards shore and notices the numb blisters that are starting to bubble on the skin around his hands. In the chaos, he forgot to wear his protective gloves. *Being a coaster is going to kill me,* he thinks as the soft, bluish glow of the city beyond the dock slowly appears through the fog in front of him. \ I wanted to write something that was action packed and hinted at some interesting world building. Would love any criticism! This story began as a part of the exercise done in this lecture about writing short stories: This lecture is amazing and gave some of awesome foundations for how to write a short story.