Wednesday morning, Omicron was up early. He was having second thoughts about his decision to join the scouting detail as he ran in the morning darkness. However, his memory was jogged as to why he was going, when the brilliance of the sun… integrated with ideas associated in his mind now… of Isis, Nature, energy… broke over the hills on the other side of the Bay. He provisioned his one man personnel carrier with food and survival equipment. The carrier was an upright cylinder with landing supports on the bottom and an enclosed plastic top, through which the operator from his perch could look. He climbed into the seat within the metal tube packed with electronic equipment and took off straight up until he was 1,000 feet off the ground and then shot north at a speed of 100 miles per hour. Five other scouts had also volunteered, each with his own wedge of territory to check.
Omicron flew for five hours before he lowered his altitude to begin his search. His gaze scoured the landscape, as he wanted to see the enemy, if that was who they were, before they saw him. If he was spotted first, he would be extremely vulnerable as he would be outnumbered and could easily be shot out of the air.
After two hours of constant vigilance, Omicron landed at the northern state border for a rest and two protein pills. Then he headed south according to the predetermined flight pattern. He was flying within 50 feet of the ground as he swooped over hills into adjacent valleys. It was around ten o’clock on his third pass that he spotted them. Unfortunately, he was on top of two of them before he could stop. They blasted their laser guns at him and one lucky hit spun his craft towards the ground. He did his best to stop the spin, but was unable to have an effect. Fortunately, the craft fell slowly into a small valley full of brush.
Omicron emerged from the wrecked vehicle without a scratch. He radioed to be picked up, but he knew that he would be vulnerable for some time. A half hour passed and he heard thrashing in the underbrush in the canyon immediately north of him. He was petrified with uncertainty as to what to do next. He could not stay where he was, he was too exposed. Yet where could he go? If he ran quickly, the noise would alert them to his location. His greatest asset at this point was the fact that he knew where they were, but they were still looking for him. However, they were coming closer and they would see the wrecked carrier, what could he do?
The sun beat down on Omicron’s face as he looked to the heavens for the strength he knew he would need. He must attack. Attack? How? Where? He must attack and allow the sun of the universe, the source of all energy, to guide him. His Will must lead the way; his body must obey. He readied his laser gun and secured two ion bombs to his belt and left his pack behind. He began to walk slowly and quietly toe-first in a crouch among the twisted red forks of manzanita. He was moving slowly and cautiously down the canyon towards where he heard the thrashing of four legs headed in his direction. He took cover in the brush and then he spotted them through the cover of leaves and branches. He carefully removed one bomb from his belt. The men were approximately one hundred feet away, guns drawn. They began to climb up the side of the hill towards him as they continued their search of this canyon and prepared to examine the next. Omicron barely breathed until they were just opposite him. Then, carefully he pulled the pin of one of the bombs, counted 1,…2,…3,…and tossed it between both of the men. Simultaneously, as part of one sweeping action, he leaped out of the brush, with his laser gun firing before the bomb hit the ground. Omicron wounded one of the men in the leg before he could fire, the second was immobilized immediately by the bomb which exploded a split second later. The wounded men returned fire with an automatic barrage which caused Omicron to hit the ground and crawl behind a tree. The wounded man reached for his radio and Omicron charged, lasers flying. The man shot back but was hit almost immediately in the shoulder and dropped his gun.
Omicron searched the man for other weapons and then when the positive ions had dissipated, he pulled his captive over to his prostrate companion. When the affected man revived, he was vomiting. Omicron tied them both securely, hands and feet, with a cord from the supplies. The bleeding of the wounded man had been stopped and further administrations were not required to meet the minimum requirements of the ‘World Conventions of War.’
It was three-thirty by the time he was picked up by a two-man carrier. On the way back, he marveled how what had commenced with a failure had resulted in an amazing personal success. He was amazed by the assurance and command with which he had dominated the situation and had quickly vanquished his foe. He could have been killed. However, that did not matter. Truth and Justice, the Right was on his side. He was in tune with the pulses of the universe. Even if he had been killed, he would have died doing what the heavens required. This success was relatively small in magnitude compared to the scale of the entire conflict. However, it had been an astounding change on his part from passivity to action and impact upon the world. He knew that this accomplishment was but the first success in a long series of successes he might enjoy as long as he continued to develop and expand the influence of his Will. In this progression of successes he would be ‘directed by the knowledge of Truth, the Love of Justice,’ and energized by ‘the strength of the Will, and the work of the Organs.’ His mind rested upon the vision of a man wearing a crowned helmet which was ‘the emblem of the strength that conquers power’ and a second vision of ‘the cubical stone, image of the perfect solid, which signifies the accomplishment of human labors.’ Omicron was not alone… He had these visions from his band’s Cosmic theology in his mind….there had been Will, Knowledge, Action… and now Realization… the fourth Cosmic step of the Arcana.
Omicron understood that doing what he did was not a miracle. He was using potentialities with which he was born and which he had the responsibility to develop. It was the unleashing of energy inherent in the cells of the body, which is too often bound by the coalescing of individual entities into the whole of the organism. If he had died in the accomplishment of this task, the energy released by the Will in the pursuit of the True and Just would have gained immortal life as his sacrifice would have motivated others to continue to fight and ultimately be victorious. He understood that the ability to accomplish tasks is derived ultimately from the energies of the universe, from energies that are intrinsic to all matter. One had only to learn how to tap these energies and he would be able to accomplish wondrous things.
That evening as he lay trying to sleep…Omicron imagined that he was passing the Tribal Recreation Center. He imagined that he had caught a glance of Aura with Gemstone inside. Trying to appear as urbane and suave as possible, he entered, their eyes meeting instantly. Aura then pretended to be unaware of his presence, but communicated to him even more explicitly her interest in him by talking and laughing loudly with her partner. Omicron walked to the piano and Cyrus urged him to play. He looked directly into Aura’s eyes and sang the song he had written for her, ‘Oh Moon That Glows on High.’ Aura was enraptured and Gemstone was aware for the first time of a new contender for her hand.
Just then, inopportunely, the door opened to admit Beta, who immediately moved to the piano and effused emotion and words upon him. Aura became red with anger and persuaded her date to leave as Omicron watched helplessly. Beta wanted him to play and stay with her, but he pleaded tiredness and accompanied her home. As Beta’s words ran on in his imagination, Omicron regretted that he did not possess the courage to tell her that he felt no Love for her. He regretted that he was unable to go and take the woman he worshiped, the woman who caused music to rush forth. He regretted that he would not stay to fight for her and the communities. Omicron pushed the fantasy from his mind. If what he imagined ever happened, it would make no difference in his present state of lethargy, regardless of what he had been able to accomplish that day, regardless of the beautiful song he had written. Within, there stirred for the first time a genuine impulse to do those things he knew were Right. However, as of the moment he was still controlled by inertia within… which paled in the face of Forces without.
Tomorrow was another day. Perhaps he could do as the heavens commanded.