Unknown Omega

Chapter 1 - Seeck

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Knotty reading!

Pitch black in all directions. Complete inky darkness, invasive and frigid. Even through my wet suit, my body feels the cold. I continue my even swimming, sluicing through the depths, unhindered by the tide or conditions.

I'm light on gear this mission. My oxygen tank is triple the capacity but half the size available to the military. I could swim for a week and never surface. My mask morphs to my face, negating the need for bulky tubes or equipment, and clearing my vision of helmet and mouthpiece. An extra mask and suit cause a bit of bulk in the pouch on my right shoulder. A high-tech pocket/strap hybrid hugs my main blade to my right thigh, and my left inseam holds two razor blades. My shoes and gloves are Liamon, a new top-secret material. It is stronger than Teflon, malleable, heat and cold resistant, and form fitting. A special pouch built into the left shoulder of my suit holds a parachute rated to carry at least ten of me.

My gear is jet black, just like the bottom of this ocean. I glide through the water, my limbs keeping time with my internal clock. At this pace, I'll reach the first checkpoint in an hour.

A few minutes before I reach my goal, a mass, just as dark and silent as me, alerts my senses. It swims about a quarter of a mile to my right, on a path that will converge with mine. A matching mass on my left mirrors the movement. The barest hint of their existence wafts through my senses. Not a singular sense can decipher what is on my radar, but with both my knowledge and experience, I know what they are. I know who they are. We converge on the cliff that supports the most secure prison on the planet.

Checkpoint One complete.

I find holds for my limbs and begin my ascent. As my head breaches the surface of the water, the howling wind batters against my suit. A torrential downpour means that visibility is about the same as it was at the bottom of the ocean. With my front flush against the sharp, deadly rocks, I continue to climb, my weight increasing as I leave the water.

A flash of electrical current lights the sky and I glimpse the silhouettes to my left and right, about seventy yards in each direction. We climb, maneuvering up the vertical obstacle with speed and grace. I keep my breathing even, focused on accomplishing the task. Up and up we scale, until the thunder and deluge drown out the crashing of the waves. We are relentless, rocketing ourselves upward until there is no sky or ocean—just wind, rain, and sharp rocks.

A streak of lightning illuminates the scene. For a split second, I see a black-clad figure, at my elevation, reaching for his next hand hold. The world returns to black.

As we climb higher, the wind strengthens. Rain continues to pelt us.

Jagged rocks give way to a man crafted wall—a solid, smooth surface with no workable way to scale it. Mid-motion, I tap my thumb and ring finger on my left hand twice in quick succession.

The top-secret mechanisms in my gloves and shoes attach my palms and insteps to the wall. Press, suction, slide, release. Press, suction, slide, release. My rhythm never falters. My speed never slows. I reach the top in mere seconds.