"Our what?" I asked incredulously.
   Carol had gone to the wall and come back with two transparent, seemingly weightless, cups of water. "It's magic! If you'll swallow it and drink the whole cup of water I promise you won't be hungry again till this evening." Whereupon she downed her pill and the water.
   I followed her example and, in moments, experienced the satisfied well-being of having just finished a complete meal. What's more, Carol told me that it contained a balance of all the necessary food values that my body would require for six hours. When I asked her why they bothered with developing solid foods such as the delicious seaweed steak I had enjoyed so much, she said that they enjoyed the taste of food when they were with their Alphas, but used the food tabs when busy with other activities.
   "Speaking of other activities," she said, "it's time you visited the other triads."
   We left the library-research building and walked leisurely in the pleasantly warm early afternoon sun. We left the path and walked in the shade of stately trees toward the student recreation area. As I breathed the sweet fresh air and felt the luxuriant green life about me I thought how incredibly fortunate I was to have the opportunity to experience such beauty, tranquility, and joy.
   Carol used her mib to talk with Alan concerning which recreation area we would visit first. This reminded me of a question:
   "Why do you use your mib to talk with others when you have telepathic powers?"
   She laughed. "With my limited telepathic powers about all I can do is send or receive very general messages. Unless a person is close, my power is not clear enough to maintain integrity throughout transmission."
   "You mean it's like tuning in a television or radio channel?" I asked.
   "Yes, that's a good analogy. The quality of your reception depends on how powerful the sender and how sensitive the receiver." She paused and then said, "Actually, only ninth and tenth levels can communicate with each other totally telepathically."
   "How about the other Macro powers like clairvoyance; precognition, retro cognition, and PK (psycho kinesis)?" I asked.
   "As a rule," she answered, "the Macro powers are somewhat limited at the lower levels of awareness. In fact, even third and fourth levels demonstrate far more excellence in the first three Macro attributes of love, leadership, and wisdom than the seven Macro powers."
   "So you have to wait, then," I said, "until attaining ninth– or tenth-level awareness before demonstrating complete adequacy with the Macro powers?"
   "That's right," she answered. "Now you can understand why I didn't try to teleport those water cups we used earlier. The cups alone I could have managed without too much effort, but fill them with water and I would have had to really work at it to keep from spilling. It would have taken a long time and would have left me tired."
   "I didn't realize it would tire you," I said, surprised.
   "You've already begun learning that true power lies simply in knowing acceptance, desire, and belief. When we first begin using Macro powers we, almost without exception, think it will all go more effectively if we try harder. This almost irresistible urge to try takes a lot of energy."
   "You mean, then," I said, "that it's just a matter of practice."
   She smiled and said, "Yes, that and emental discipline. Our problem is that our lives are so happy and peaceful that we lack the necessary desire to practice very often."
   "Hmm," I said, "maybe that's true for you who have grown up in the Macro society and have forever to attain your goal, but I've got only three months to attain mine or return to the 20th century for the rest of my life."
   "Exactly," Carol replied, "and that's why the level nines and tens were willing to try bringing you here, because you would have more to lose, and thus, greater motivation than anyone in the Macro society ever had."
   "Okay," I said, "I'm ready to start practicing. Where do I begin?"
   "Great! That's what I've been waiting for. You had to ask, we could not force you to start practicing."
   She threw her arms around me and planted quick kisses about my face.
   "Well, well," I teased. "I'll bet even old B. F. Skinner of operant conditioning fame would approve of your behavioral conditioning techniques!"
   "I don't know about Skinner, but I'm glad you feel rewarded," she said. "Now let's get to work and practice some PK. See if you can teleport this pebble at my feet."
   I looked at the pebble she was pointing at and decided that since it was very small it should be an easy place to start. I reached out with imaginary fingers to pick it up. It didn't budge.
   "You're trying too hard," Carol suggested. "Relax your mind by remembering your Macro contact experience."
   After a couple of minutes of recalling how I almost lost Macro contact I stopped trying, to the best of my ability, and found my mind blissfully serene. I gently reached out for the pebble and easily raised it to eye level. Then I made it dance and weave through the air about us. For the next few minutes I experienced the strange joy of successfully using PK.
   I probably would have gone on to larger objects if I hadn't become aware of a rapidly increasing weariness that seemed to be creeping through my body. I dropped the pebble.
   Carol smiled wistfully. "Now you know what I meant about becoming tired. Since you have so recently experienced Macro contact you can probably counteract the fatigue by again recalling the experience. Give it a try."
   I decided that I was just too tired to stand up any longer, so I lay down on the soft, sweet-smelling grass and tried to follow Carol's suggestion. My fatigue seemed to interfere and it was several moments before a strong memory of free-flowing, accepting Macro contact succeeded in restoring much of my vitality.
   I got slowly to my feet.
   "All right," I said, "I've learned my lesson: don't overdo in practicing Macro powers."
   Carol looked at me for a minute, then said, "How do you feel? Now that most of your energy is restored, would you like to practice some more?"
   "No," I answered. "I really think I'd better wait until later." It was then that I realized that the memory of my Macro contact had been so pleasant and soothing that I no longer had any desire to practice my Macro powers.
   "That's right," Carol said, obviously practicing her telepathy. "The memory of Macro contact can restore your energy, but it can also leave you so pleasantly satiated that any desire to put forth the effort necessary for Macro practice is greatly diminished."
   "My God!" I exclaimed. "That's what you meant when you all said that the more Macro contacts you had, the less desire you had for growth and change!"
   "Yes, that's right," Carol replied, "but this is only true at the lower-Macro levels. Once you've reached level nine it hardly applies, and by level ten you are completely free of any micro desire to avoid the failure-success patterns of all growth and learning."
   I forced myself to try moving the pebble again and began bouncing it along ahead of us as we continued our walking.
   Carol took my hand and kissed it lightly. "See, they were right! You do have more desire than anyone else." Then she laughed and said, "You're such a good influence on me that I'll help you practice, then you won't tire out so soon." With these words she began taking turns with me at bouncing the pebble along before us.
   For the next few minutes we continued this very relaxed type of simple PK usage, and while I felt some weariness beginning to return, it wasn't so awesomely overpowering as before. We ended our PK practice as we topped a slight rise and walked through an opening in a large broad-leafed hedge. There before us was the first triad playground which, I later realized, was about a quarter of a mile directly behind our Gamma building.
   The huge playground was a two-hundred-yard square enclosed by the stream that surrounded it. The stream was punctuated by waterfalls and ponds with broad expanses of sand about them. An array of children's exercise devices, some of which resembled what I knew as jungle gyms, dotted the playground, making me wish I was about one fourth my size so I could enjoy the thrill of the pipe-slide or of going hand-over-hand from one end of the fifty-foot horizontal ladder to the other.
   Carol surprised me by saying that such playgrounds do exist for adults in every Gamma location, emphasizing the fun and importance of adult physical play.
   There were balls, blocks, and lots of various-sized and shaped toys and learning devices that I had never seen before.
   While there were about a hundred children between the ages of six weeks and three years, I was surprised to see that the adults seemed to outnumber the children almost two to one.
   Sensing my surprise, Carol reminded me that everyone in the first four triads had older brothers and sisters assigned to them from the older triads. In the third and fourth triads, Alpha mates shared the same "brother and sister," who were usually Alpha mates themselves. However, in the first and second triads each child had five elder brothers and sisters of his own assigned only from the eighth, ninth, and tenth triads, along with some other older non-student volunteers.
   As we walked about the playground I was reminded that even back in the mid-20th century psychologists know that for maximum mental and physical growth children need far more than just adequate nutrition. However, in the 20th century one out of three children was permanently damaged by poor nutrition alone. Beyond food, though, were the three psychological requirements: loving acceptance, verbal stimulation with intelligent older children and adults, and opportunities for unrestricted exploration. These last two were frequently summarized as "richly varied mental and physical stimuli."
   Yes, I thought, the knowledge for Macro growth had been available in the 20th century, but micro man neither desired nor believed in its development. Even psychologists and psychiatrists were often unable to provide loving acceptance to their very own children. This was largely due to their unquestioning acceptance of the limited micro theory that we, as adults, are the pawns of our early experiences.
   I smiled as I recalled the standing comment at our universities that anyone who got a Ph.D. had to really hate himself to put up with all that crap. And it was certainly true that a person could get a Ph.D. and still know practically nothing about how to actually live a healthy, balanced life. What's more, with a Ph.D. he could avoid practicing therapeutic mental-health concepts by spending the rest of his life teaching them to others. I remembered another famous line that said, "Those who can, do... and those who can't, teach." After twenty some years of formal micro education I was inclined to believe there was some truth in this saying.
   While wandering about the play area I had received telepathic messages of welcome from all the older brothers and sisters. I was surprised at the intelligence and physical dexterity of these youngsters of the first triad.
   "It's hard to believe," I said to Carol, "that none of these children is even three years old."
   "Yes," Carol nodded, "we have proved that with adequate nutrition, plus generous amounts of the three psychological requirements that you were just thinking about, both mental and physical growth can increase many times faster than micro man ever supposed possible.
   "But now let's go on to the second triad learningplay area," she suggested.
   We walked through another opening in the densely growing hedge that surrounded the first triad learningplay area and walked about a hundred yards through the park until we came to another seemingly impenetrable hedge. Finding an opening, we entered the second triad area, which I discovered was at least twice as large as the first triad learning-play area had been.
   Again I was struck by the wide variety of learning devices scattered about this huge recreation area. Of course, the devices were generally much more complicated and included construction materials for making miniature Gamma complexes, complete with materials for constructing extremely complex dolls. The junglegym type of climbing and swinging apparatus was more extensive and covered with small children swinging with the agility of monkeys through a maze of bars reaching over fifty feet into the air.
   With an area fully three hundred yards square there was no crowding for the hundred second-triad students and two hundred of their older brothers and sisters. This time as we wandered about I was surprised to find myself frequently greeted telepathically not only by the older students, but also by the younger ones. I turned to Carol to ask her about this.
   "How is it that so many children are demonstrating telepathy?" I inquired, feeling somewhat retarded as compared to these gifted children.
   "During the last ten years the Macro society has attracted no soul who did not demonstrate at least second level awareness by the end of the third triad."
   Wow! I thought. That meant that their nine-year-olds -without exception-had all demonstrated a greater level of awareness than I had. "When did you demonstrate third-level awareness?" I asked Carol.
   "Not until the end of my fifth triad," she answered. Then smiling impishly she added, "Don't worry, I am sure that having you as my Alpha mate will increase my rate of learning and I should demonstrate fourth level very soon."
   "Does anyone remain at second level for their whole life?" I asked.
   "Actually," she replied, "we haven't had anyone less than third level by the time they completed the tenth triad for over fifty years."
   "This means that you are attracting more highly evolved souls," I said. When she nodded in agreement I pointed to several groups of children who were obviously participating in highly competitive sports both individually and in groups.
   "I don't understand," I said. "I thought the Macro society was opposed to competitive activities."
   "We're only opposed to competition when it's destructive to the welfare of others."
   But isn't losing in games destructive to their self-concept?" I asked.
   "Not at all," she answered. "In fact, it's absolutely necessary to learn how to accept failure-successes in order to attain a Macro self-concept."
   "However," she continued, "the kind of micro competition that plundered and polluted your 20th century, allowing a few to live in luxury while the majority of the Earth's population suffered a scarcity of essentials, is destructive competition. It's the kind of selfish micro behavior that destroyed your society and stimulated the desire for a better one-the Macro society."
   I studied the responses of the older triad students to the winners of the games. I finally decided that both winners and losers were accepted equally in terms of being loved, but that winners did receive positive psychological reinforcements.
   "We recognize," Carol continued, "that life would be deadly dull if we avoided all successes for fear of failures. That's only a problem for micro man-not the Macro society."
   While I was thinking over what Carol had just said, we walked over to a large swimming pool. I immediately noticed that all the children in the pool seemed to be excellent swimmers, and I commented on this.
   "All of the first-triad children," Carol explained, "learn to swim by the age of two, and by the time they are in the second triad everyone is almost as at home in the water as on land. Of course, everyone swims at least once a day all year round, so we get lots of practice."
   "And we learn by practicing," I added. "Speaking of practice, what other Macro powers can I start working on?"
   "Now that you've asked," Carol replied, "I think this might be a good time to start developing your Macro vision, clairvoyance. Look at the children and tell me if you can see the auras colors that surround their little naked bodies."
   I peered about, checking my perceptions. "I don't think so," I told her, "but maybe I don't know what to look for."
   "You probably can't see the human aura without a tunic to reflect and magnify it," Carol answered, "and it's probably because you lack the necessary predisposing belief. Let me tell you something about it."
   "First of all," she began, "the aura is produced by the electrical emanations of the human soul which are clairvoyantly seen as colors. We can tell by examining a person's auric colors what his level of awareness and emotional balance is at any given time. For example, if anyone gets caught in a micro perspective his auric colors tend to run together and become muddied. Then if he becomes angry his aura gets very red. If he gets jealous if becomes a sickly greenish-yellow which is similar to the auric color of a person who is deliberately lying for selfish purposes."
   "Since you, obviously, can see auras, how about describing mine?" I suggested.
   "All right, Jon," she replied. "Your aura extends about twelve inches from your body-this distance will increase as your awareness expands-and is now predominantly a lovely sharp blue-green with some purples, yellows, and greens. When I first met you, before your first Macro contact, these colors were not so clear and sharp and there were more gray tones and more orange pink. You also have– the beginnings of a white, which is the dominant color of our level tens, reflecting perfect balance."
   "It's interesting to look at me through your eyes. Thanks. Now how can I learn to see auras without the help of a tunic reflecting them for me?" I asked.
   "First try to recall your last Macro contact experience, and that will raise your vibrations or awareness level so that you can use what the ancient mystics called the third eye. This is associated with the pineal gland, which permits us to see high-level vibrations while still enclosed in our low-vibration physical body."
   "Then," she continued, "practice looking around people, not directly at them, and perhaps you will begin to see the colors emanating about their heads and shoulders."
   I felt several questions fighting for expression, but before I could ask them, Carol suggested that I get the details from C.I. later and devote this time to practice, so I tried recalling my last Macro contact.
   In less than a minute I felt ready to try seeing auras. I turned toward Carol and tried to look around her instead of at her. At first things seemed a little out of focus, but after adjusting my gaze I found that I could see lovely bright colors shining about her. "You're right," I said. "I can see the colors surrounding your head and shoulders, but they seem to fade in and out. Is that how you see them?"
   "No, Jon," she replied, happy with my apparent success, "but after you practice a little more you'll see them more clearly."
   "Well, here I go, then," I said. I selected an older student swimming with one of the young ones and tried to focus in on his aura. I was able to bring in most of his auric colors pretty well. Then, switching my view to the child, I described his aura to see if I was viewing them correctly.
   "You're doing just fine," she said, "but right now I want you to try something else. Look about twenty feet directly in front of you and tell me what you see."
   I changed my gaze and looked intently, but though I felt a warm, happy glow inside, I saw nothing.
   "Try some more Macro contact recall," she suggested, "but keep looking."
   I tried for about thirty seconds, then suddenly my mind seemed to shift focus and I became aware of a dazzling white light surrounding the body of a strong and handsome man.
   "I see him!" I said excitedly. "It's Eli. Why couldn't I see him normally?"
   She laughed at my use of the word normally and answered, "Because this time he's using his astral body to visit the thousand Deltas of his Kton. You remember that you occupied only your astral body when you first came here. Then you entered the physical body which had been prepared for you."
   "Yes," I said, thinking it over. "And some of the students couldn't see me until I got into this physical body."
   "Actually," Carol said, "only level nines and tens are always clairvoyantly aware, so it's possible for anyone in our Alpha to occasionally miss seeing an astral traveler."
   "What's the advantage of traveling around in your astral body?" I asked.
   "Well," Carol answered, "it's the only way you can travel to any of the non-physical dimensions. But the reason our upper levels use it so much is that it takes considerably less energy than translating the physical body from place to place. Astral travel permits instant translation to a series of places without fatigue."
   "What do you mean, Carol?" I asked. "I don't remember anything 'instant' about my traveling when I first came here. In fact, when Lea and I were running to the research center I couldn't even catch up with her!"
   Carol laughed. "That's because you thought you were occupying a physical body, and you were limited by your belief. You didn't think your physical body could run any faster, so it didn't. It's as simple as that."
   "You mean," I asked, "that if I had realized I was using only my astral body I could have traveled faster?"
   "Faster, indeed!" was her response. "Faster than the speed of light. That is, of course, if you believed it was possible. You see, the astral body has no mass, and, thus, is not limited by the speed of light. In other words, at the astral level your mind is not hampered by clumsy, dense, physical matter, so a thought manifests its consequences immediately. You just visualize it and it happens. Level tens can do the same thing with physical bodies, but it takes more thought energy."
   I shook my head and, turning to Carol, exclaimed, "That's amazing! I'd really like to learn to do that."
   "We'd better master telepathy first," Carol responded as she looked over to where Eli had been standing, then back at me.
   I followed her glance to the spot where our Ktar had been, but he was no longer there. "Where'd he go so. fast? To another Delta?"
   "You need more practice, Jon," she noted. "You missed his greeting to us as well as his statement that he was leaving us to go visit with Lea."
   I felt embarrassed at missing Eli's communication to us. I had thought I was doing pretty well, but that certainly put me back in my place. "I really wanted to talk to him, too. Guess I need a lot more practice," was my painful conclusion.
   Another question popped into my head. "Say, you mentioned that he was a Ktar. I was wondering, are all your leaders level tens?"
   "The top ones, yes," Carol answered, "Our three Mutars, who are leaders of 100-million-member Mutons, and the thirty Ktars, who are the leaders of 10-million-member Ktons, are all level tens. The rest of our current 127 level tens are Ztars."
   "That means," I interrupted, recalling my C.I. training, "that they are leaders of your million-member Ztons, right?" To her nod of agreement I added, "And since you have 300 of these I suppose the other Ztars are level nines."
   "That's right," she nodded, "and since we have currently 3,306 level nines, all of the 3,000 Atar positions, as leaders of 100,000, are filled by nines."
   "Then I supposed it logically follows that the Deltars are either the few nines who are not Atars or all eights."
   "Yes," she said, "since there are some 39,000 level eights we have more than enough to fill the remaining 30,000 Deltar positions and the rest are Gamma leaders."
   "But since there are 300,000 Gamar positions," I surmised, "the rest must be filled by level sevens." I paused for a moment to let a nagging thought come to the surface of my mind. "Okay," I went on, "maybe you can tell me what was the youngest age that anyone ever demonstrated nine– or ten-level awareness."
   "I'll have to ask C.I., Carol responded and began talking into her mib. After a couple of moment she said, "The youngest age to reach level ten was thirty-nine and the average age of all level tens at this time is 107. As for level nines, the youngest ever to demonstrate level nine awareness had had thirty-three years and the average age of all level nines at this time is ninety-three. The youngest age of attaining level-eight awareness was twenty-seven, and their average age is seventy-seven."
   "That means," I said, "that if I make level three in three months, I'll be doing all right."
   "Not bad for a beginner, Jon. Not bad," she teased, then added, "I'm glad to see you optimistic because it certainly won't be possible unless you first believe you can do it."
   "We'd better get over to the 3rd and 4th triads now so you can meet your younger brother and sister," Carol added.
   "Will I be taking someone else's place? I mean, don't they already have an older brother?" I asked.
   "He's gone already," Carol assured me. "He was my previous Alpha mate, but he has gone to another Delta to complete an Alpha there."
   I realized that I hadn't asked Carol about her previous Alpha mate before because I had felt guilty about the possibility of my displacing someone. Then, when I got to know Carol better, I felt little stirrings of jealousy when I thought about someone else preceding me as her mate. Now I checked my mind carefully and found few remnants of either guilt or Jealousy, so I asked her if she didn't miss him.
   "Not really," she – replied. "You see, we share almost identical soul notes, so I can reach out to him telepathically anytime I wish. I'm happy to know that he is as pleased with his new Alpha mate as I am with you."
   "But I thought your telepathy was very limited," I said, puzzled at her apparent ability to reach out clear to another Delta.
   "You'll find, Jon, that it's ever so much easier to communicate telepathically with those whose soul notes are close to your own. Take Steve, for example. His soul note is very different from mine, so I would have to work hard to receive from him even as far as across the lake. However, the closer the soul note vibration, the easier it is to communicate and the greater the distance your message can carry to that person."
   "That sounds reasonable," I responded, then added, "Tell me, how did there happen to be an opening in another Alpha just when I arrived? Did someone die?"
   "Oh, no," she assured me. "There haven't been any deaths in the 7th triad for over three years. However, frequently someone will volunteer to work on Micro Island for a few months. That will often leave an Alpha either one or two short."
   "What kind of work do they volunteer for out there?"
   "We offer our services as Personal Evolution tutors," she replied. "Some of their children, as well as a few adults, seek our services."
   "If those on Micro Island are 'similar to micro man of the 20th century," I said, "don't you run some risks visiting there?"
   "Yes, we do," she admitted. "At least, those of us who have not yet reached the higher levels of awareness do. You see, it's no problem for a level nine or ten to cope with an attacker, a robber, or an assassin, since their precognitive and telepathic powers would warn them and their PK could teleport anyone who bothered them clear to the other side of the island in the blink of an eye."
   "That's some way to-handle a nuisance," I laughed. "Do they attack their tutors very often?"
   "Oh yes," Carol replied. "Anyone who kills a member of the Macro society automatically becomes something of a hero to a great many of the inhabitants of Micro Island."
   "Well, how do you handle that?" I asked. "How do you punish them? And why do they want to kill you in the first place?"
   "To answer your last question first, they hate us for living so differently from them," she replied. "As for punishing them, of course, we don't. We're careful, therefore, to let only those who have attained at least second-level awareness visit Micro Island, and even they are protected by telepathic communication with a level nine or ten."
   "You said it had been three years since anyone died in the 7th triad. Was that last death here or on Micro Island?" I asked.
   "On Micro Island," she responded. "It does happen occasionally, but more often than not, it happens to the older students who ask not to be protected."
   "Good God!" I exclaimed. "Why would they do that?"
   "For the same reason that the great Macro philosopher tutor, Jesus, permitted himself to be crucified-to show micro man that the soul of man transcends his body," was her explanation.
   I shook my head. "I never could see that bit about getting killed or crucified just to show others you aren't afraid of death."
   "I think there's more to it than that," Carol said, "but right now we'd better give our attention to finding your younger brother and sister."
   As we walked the short distance to the recreation learning area of triads three and four I wondered about the necessity of assigning older students to supply the caring relationship of a special brother and sister to each younger child.
   Carol picked up my thoughts. "It probably isn't as important now since we would provide this relationship even if we weren't assigned it. But when the Macro society began there were not as many highly evolved souls who could telepathically tune in to the needs of others so, in order not to miss anyone, elder brothers and sisters were assigned to all students. Then, as our Personal Evolution tutoring system developed, elder brothers and sisters were assigned only to the first four triads."
   "Speaking of tutoring," I said, "how does it work? What's the difference between that and teaching?"
   "First of all," Carol replied, "we here in 2150 do not believe in the ancient concept of teaching where students passively absorbed or blocked out what a teacher was desperately trying to give them. We, therefore, have no teachers.
   "We believe learning to be an active process where one person reaches out and takes knowledge stimulated by his interaction with a resource person."
   "So you feel knowledge can only be taken, not given," I summarized.
   "Yes. Now, to answer your question, resource persons are specialists in learning areas such as agriculture, ecology, or bio-physics, for example, while Personal Evolution tutors deal with all learning and all human problems."
   "It sounds like you think resource people know all about something and your P.E. tutors know all about everything. Do you really believe that's possible?" I asked.
   Carol was amused by my skepticism. "It depends on what you mean by, 'know all about everything.' To the extent that our tutors have attained moments of total Macro contact awareness, they do know everything. But knowing the answers to all questions and living these answers are two different things.
   "Even a Macro person cannot live a perfectly balanced Macro life," she added. "We just haven't evolved to a state of constant Macro awareness yet. When we reach that state of evolution we will have outgrown our need for a physical body-even a Macro one!"
   "All right," I said, "what you're saying, then, is that you have tutors who can supply all the answers, but that the real problem is not finding the answers but putting these answers into practice in your daily life living them. The same age-old problem."
   I went on, "If you only have 127 level tens and 3,306 level nines, and since they serve as your leaders, this must leave you with a real shortage of tutors."
   "Oh, no," Carol assured me, "there's no shortage, because all persons in levels six and above function as P.E. tutors. This includes thirty million sixes and three million sevens as well as the thirty-nine hundred eights." (See C.I. Data Excerpts.)
   I did some quick mental arithmetic. "That makes 33,003,900 tutors, so there are less than ten pupils per tutor. Still, if everyone saw a Personal Evolution tutor every day there would be no time at all for the level sixes, sevens, and eights to do anything but tutor. That doesn't sound like much of a life. Don't they get tired of all that?"
   "I can see where that would be a tiresome existence," she answered. "Fortunately, it's not that bad at all. You see, only students see a tutor every day, and even that isn't required. The vast majority of our Macro society doesn't visit with a P.E. tutor more than once a week."
   As she finished speaking we entered the thousand-square-yard recreation learning area of the 3rd and 4th triads. I was impressed by the tremendous activity going on for as far as I could see. There were at least thirty tennis courts, three football and soccer fields, and all kinds of gym equipment. There were also tracks and swimming pools with meets in progress in each area. I turned to Carol and commented, "It seems to me there are a lot more triads out there than just the 3rd and 4th."
   "That's because the 5th and 7th triads are assigned to the 3rd triad, and the 6th is assigned to the 4th," she explained.
   "Oh, that's right, the older brother and sister system," I replied. "But why are two triads assigned to the 3rd? Do they need extra attention for some reason?"
   "Actually," Carol answered, "It's the first two triads that get the most attention. We use the 3rd and 4th triads for the 5th and 6th and 7th triads to practice developing their skill at maintaining a helping relationship with someone younger."
   "It seems that helping someone is the most highly honored achievement in the Macro society," I observed.
   Carol nodded, saying, "That's why our P.E. tutors occupy our most respected social positions and provide our top leadership."
   "In the 20th century," I said, "we valued the entertainment profession more than any other, I guess, for we gave our most valuable rewards-money and fame-to entertainers like movie or TV celebrities or sports stars."
   "That's because micro man's life is so miserable that he uses any sort of entertainment to escape," Carol explained, "so, naturally, entertainers would be paid more than anyone else."
   "You know," I reflected, "that doesn't say much for the value we placed on education, does it? Teaching was one of our lowest-paid professions."
   "That's true, Jon," Carol ' responded. "Micro man placed very little importance on education. Your schools, therefore, were often filled with inadequately prepared teachers who were expected to teach their students how to memorize facts and detail instead of how to think creatively. Much time was spent on subjects which were of little use to the average person, such as foreign languages, algebra, and higher mathematics, while most learning programs gave little or no attention to the most important subject of all-human behavior and life philosophy. I group these two together because man's behavior is always the result of his beliefs, that is, his philosophy of life."
   As she completed this observation a boy and girl ran up to her and wrapped their arms around her. They looked strong and healthy and, like all other Macro society children, they possessed great physical beauty. I was thinking that they must have had about 10 years when I received Carol's telepathic message that they were both just 7. She telepathically teased me about having already begun to think in 2150 terms, then introduced me as her new Alpha mate and, therefore, their new brother.
   As their eyes reached out to me, I realized another reason why members of the Macro society greet each other silently. They are using this silence to concentrate on the delightful nuances of telepathic contact, which removes all possibility of fear or distrust. I learned that the boy's name was Neal and the girl was Jean, but most importantly I learned that I felt joyously happy at our meeting, almost as if they were my long-lost friends. I wasn't surprised when Carol explained this, saying that I knew them in other lifetimes in which we were very close.
   Jean demonstrated her awareness when she picked up the fact that tennis had been one of my favorite sports before losing my leg, and she suggested that we all play a game of doubles with Carol and Neal standing her and me.
   This sounded like a fine idea except that I had never played tennis with children before and was a little afraid that my style might be too rough for them. Accepting the responsibility of big brotherhood, I said that sounded delightful, and we all headed for the nearest vacant court to select rackets from the rack nearby.
   As we began playing I avoided using my power shots, but.after the first five minutes of some of the hardest and best-played tennis that I had ever experienced, I was convinced that Carol and the children were far better than I was at this game.
   Then I realized that the children were using PK, which was why they seldom missed a shot. If I was going to be any help to Jean as a tennis partner I was going to have to get. to work with my PK, too. Thirty minutes later I was convinced that the children's PK was far better than mine. They still seemed as fresh as when the game began.
   I decided to ask for a rest, and as we sat in the shade of a nearby oak tree I invited the children to play tennis with me again soon, since it looked like I needed lots of practice. They both agreed.
   Neal gave me a happy grin and said, "We've found tennis develops our desire to practice our Macro powers especially PK."
   "We were afraid at first that you had not yet developed your PK ability and that we weren't being fair with you," Jean added. "We don't use PK when we play tennis with anyone who hasn't developed it yet."
   I laughed as I replied, "I was afraid I'd be too good for you, but by using your PK you made it the most challenging game of my life. I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to practice not only my tennis but also my PK."
   Carol hopped up and said, "I'm going to take a swim, Jon, but why don't you stay here and rest so you'll feel up to running back to our Alpha in time for the Macro dance."
   "Thanks," I said. "I'll need the rest. That dance is as tiring as playing PK tennis!"
   By the time Carol and the children reached the nearest pool my eyes were closed

CHAPTER 9: Proof of the Pudding

   I woke up refreshed and discovered that I had slept for almost ten hours. There was a note from Karl saying that he wouldn't be home for lunch, but would be back earlier than usual that afternoon. I decided to get to my journal-writing as soon as possible.
   By four that afternoon Karl returned and the first thing he did was ask about my latest dream. I told him he could read it in the journal because I was going out for some fresh air after being inside all day. He agreed that this sounded like a healthy idea and sat down with my journal while I put on my coat, boots, muffler, and fur hat in preparation for my walk in the blustery snow.
   As I trudged through eight inches of newly fallen snow and shivered in the near zero temperature, which was intensified by thirty-mile-an-hour winds blowing about me, I realized that no one in 2150 could possibly appreciate their climate control as much as I did. I thought of all the ages that man had struggled against the elements of nature in order to find food, shelter, and security from attack by animals-or his fellow man. I thought how much longer it was going to take before man would learn to cooperate enough to eliminate even this problem. Cooperation had always been the solution, the answer. But it takes the long view-the Macro view-to see the benefits of cooperation. From the short-term view-the micro view-man can only get the things he wants by competing for them and coming out the winner, while his fellow man comes out the loser. This conflict, this competition, this lack of cooperation always results, both individually and internationally, in division into two groups-the "haves" and the "have nots."
   Looking up I realized that I had walked further than I intended for the student union and coffee shop was less than a block away. I crossed the street and entered the student union where I warmed myself as I considered the plight of the hundred and some other students gathered there.
   While most of them were between the ages of 18 and 22, there were also several about my own age or older. I couldn't help but think how different these students were from those of 2150. The physical differences of sheer size and appearance were the most obvious, but it was the psychological differences that really hit me.
   These students of 1976 reflected the fear, suspicion, anxiety, belligerence, prejudice, alienation, and general unawareness of the culture they were raised in. Yet they had almost all evolved to a level where they were a lot more friendly and open than their parents, and their auras were a lot brighter and less muddied, too. "Hey! I'm seeing auras!" I thought triumphantly.
   I was almost instantly humbled by the sudden realization that this is about how my aura looked to the people of 2150 with my 20th-century biases and anxieties.
   With this thought in mind I grinned and, leaving the warmth of the building, headed for home. I stopped at a supermarket to replenish our supply of bacon and eggs.
   In spite of the snowstorm the store was filled with middle-aged women and a few elderly men. The vitality and enthusiasm of the students were absent here. These people had all the fears and uncertainties of the students but none of their compensating joy and friendliness. They seemed to be colorless, worn-out automatons who had found a dull little rut into which they sank a little deeper with each passing year until it became their grave.
   The narrow, rigid life patterns of micro man were designed by him to avoid failure. In the long run, though, they merely served to convince him of his inadequacy to deal with the world outside of his little self-constructed prison.
   As I walked down between the aisles of groceries thinking these thoughts, a small child of 4 or 5 came running around a corner, tripped, and fell sprawling at my feet.
   Without thinking, I automatically picked up the now sobbing child and held her in my arms to comfort her. The cries vanished immediately and I realized that I was holding a heavily booted and snow suited little girl. She had just begun to return my big smile with a shy one of her own when she was rudely jerked out of my arms by an anxious, thin-lipped woman whose eyes were narrowed with anger.
   "How dare you put your dirty hands on my little girl!" she screeched. "You nasty beast!"
   "But, Madam..." I began, "I was just..."
   "I know what you were 'just' doing," she accused loudly, clutching the child to her. "You were attempting to molest my daughter. I saw you, and I want you to know there are laws to take care of people like you!"
   By this time her caterwauling had attracted a sizable number of other shoppers who stared suspiciously at me.
   The little girl's mother continued to shriek imprecations and threats at me till I felt it was impossible to say anything believable in my own defense. It was impossible for me to do anything except stare at her, transfixed by the ghastly aura surrounding her. It was like an ugly, spitting red fire blotched with sickly yellow-greens.
   At that moment the store-manager appeared and, sensing the possibility of violence, grabbed my arm and began pulling me toward the back of the building explaining to the shoppers that he would take care of me and see that I was turned over to the proper authorities.
   Back in his office, as I showed him my student identification card and explained for the third time that I was just comforting the child, he was still looking rather uncertainly at me. Finally, obviously deciding that he didn't want the inconvenience of dealing with the police, he let me go out the back of his store with the warning that he never wanted to see me in his store again.
   If I had needed an incident to dramatically reveal the differences between 1976 and 2150 I had certainly gotten it. In the micro world of 1976 every stranger was a potential threat of theft, rape, murder, or some other catastrophe. Since micro man was blindly unaware of most of his own motivations, he was also blind to those of others. If only they could have seen my aura or read my mind, I thought it would have been impossible for them to misunderstand my intentions or fear me. But, lacking this greater awareness, they must judge others by surface appearance and through the fog of their own fears, anxieties, and guilts.
   What would have happened to me, I wondered, if I had been wearing the long hair, beard, and battered looking garments so popular with some of my fellow students. I'd probably be sitting in jail by now with little hope of convincing a middle-aged judge or jury that I wasn't a sex fiend and either an anarchist or communist to boot.
   I walked back toward our apartment as quickly as my artificial leg would carry me, having had enough of micro man and his supermarkets for one day. I preferred the cold bitterness of the elements to the savage paranoia of micro man.
   Back at the apartment I found myself closing and automatically locking our door behind me. Oh, lord, I thought, I'm a great one to condemn micro man for being paranoid.
   It was true. I didn't feel safe here in 1976, and I desperately missed the clean, lovely countryside and the happy serenity and loving kindness of Delta 927, only 174 years in the future.
   As I sat down in my hard-backed chair Karl put down my journal and asked what was wrong. When I told him of my experiences at the student union and at the supermarket, he smiled grimly and said, "Your new Macro powers don't seem to help you back here in 1976 the way they do in your 2150. Or maybe," he paused, and eyed me speculatively, "they don't even work in 1976."
   That was our agreed-upon test of 2150's reality. Could I demonstrate Macro powers which I had learned in my dream world of the future while I was awake in 1976.
   I had seen auras, but somehow I had forgotten-or avoided-trying telepathy with anyone.
   Now I looked at my journal lying on the table beside Karl. Could I teleport it through the air over to me by using my newly developed PK? Maybe, I thought, I should try some smaller object. No, I refused to make the test easy-even if all I could do was push the journal off the table onto the floor, it would prove my PK.
   I reached out with imaginary hands to lift the journal -nothing happened.
   What's wrong? Had I just imagined seeing auras at the student union and the supermarket? Could it be that I would be unable to demonstrate PK, the one Macro power that could be seen by others?
   I frantically reached out with my mind and redoubled my efforts to pull, push, or shove my journal off the table, but, to my growing alarm, there was no movement whatsoever.
   "Take it easy," Karl said. "I can see by the look on your face that you aren't able to use your 2150 powers back here in the cold, hard reality of 1976."
   "But I can see auras," I pleaded. "I can even see yours!"
   "Come off it, Jon, you know I can't see auras and neither can you or anyone else we know, so offering your hallucinations is hardly going to be acceptable as proof."
   "But, Karl," I protested, "this isn't a fair test-maybe I need more time. I mean I've only just begun using three out of the seven Macro powers. Maybe I'll have to practice and develop them all before I can demonstrate them successfully to you."
   "There are only two," Karl replied, "which I would accept as being verifiable. That would be precognition and PK, with the latter being the quickest and best proof. It was you, Jon, who suggested the test of demonstrating them in 1976. Now you seem reluctant to accept your own test of reality."
   "But I know I have the power! I used it time and again! You should have seen that tennis game, Karl."
   "I know, I know," Karl replied. "It's all right there in your journal. The point is, that's in your dream world... not here in the reality where I live."
   "I need more time, Karl," I repeated.
   "Fine," Karl agreed. "I don't want to be unreasonable, but it's your test as much as mine. You set up the rules. I'm just the judge. If you want more time, take it."
   Karl felt my disappointment and discouragement, and he realized that I was sincerely puzzled by my failure to move -the journal. In his attempt to help he asked me if I was doing something wrong; if I was, perhaps, leaving out some vital step in the process.
   "No, no, no," I answered. "Damn it, Karl, I'm doing everything just like I did before. It's just not working!"
   Karl laughed. "Look at me, you nut! I'm almost as wrapped up in this as you are!" He paced across the room with his chin in his hand then, turning and pointing his index finger at me, he said, "By George, I've got it! Let's recreate the 'scene of the crime' and see if we can ferret out your mistake. Now let's see, the first time you demonstrated PK was on that pebble when you and Carol took turns making it bounce along in front of you and..." Karl interrupted himself and plopped on his bed, weak with laughter. "I sure do feel stupid, Jon! I'm sure as hell glad one of our professors isn't here watching this production!"
   At this prospect, we both broke up.
   After a good laugh I said, "Come on now. Back to business. You had a good idea there. Let's get back to the first time I used PK."
   "Well, as I was saying, you and Carol were taking turns bouncing-"
   I interrupted. "No, Karl. That wasn't the first time I tried it. That was after I had learned the trick. The first time was when I tried to lift the pebble up from the ground in front of us. I couldn't do it. Carol told me to try to recall my last Macro contact experience. I did, and next time I tried, it worked."
   Karl immediately asked, "That Macro contact stuff – do you think maybe that's it? Would that work here? And what is it?"
   "What is it?" I tried to think of a way to describe it to Karl. "Well, the closest I can come to describing it would be if you paused for a moment and imagined yourself totally, and perfectly, molecularly, one with the air around you and with everything else. Just feel the air between the atoms that make up your body and know that all is perfect and all is one. I realize that's not too great a description, but it's the best I can do."
   "I suppose we could call it getting into the Macro mood. One more 2150 expression can only enrich our lives!" Karl joked as he waved a finger in the air and "jived" around the room.
   This business of combining the parts of two different worlds was more than I wanted to try to reason out, so I decided instead to act on it. "I don't know, Karl. Let me take the next few minutes to try it. You keep your eye on my journal because if this works, I'm going to teleport it from your table over to my chair."
   Karl smiled and said, "If that's precognition you're going to have to also demonstrate PK in order to prove it.
   His last words came to me faintly as my mind brought back vividly the memory of my last Macro contact, filling me with quiet, peaceful serenity. The fear and anxiety generated by my experience at the market and my failure to successfully demonstrate Macro powers for Karl began to be washed away by-an ocean-the wisdom of oneness-which dissolved them completely, filling me once again with joyous hope and loving acceptance.
   I reached out with my mind's imaginary hands and gently lifted my journal a couple of inches straight up above the table.
   "Son of a bitch!" Karl exclaimed. "You're doing it, Jon! By God, you're doing it!"
   I lifted it a full two feet above the table and began to pull it toward me. A few seconds later, its journey from the table beside Karl over to my chair completed, it had traveled about nine feet and was now lying in my lap.
   Karl exploded to his feet. Fighting back tears of joy and amazement, he grabbed my shoulders and shouted, "You did it, Jon! By God, you did it! Honest, Jon, – I thought you were losing your marbles-going out of your mind or something, believing those crazy dreams. But you sure did do it!"
   "Are you finally convinced, Karl?" I asked grinning broadly.
   Karl returned my grin and released my shoulders. As he stood up, though, the grin faded. "Wait a minute," he said, as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Maybe I'm seeing things, too, just because I want so badly to see them. I mean, maybe I want so strongly for you not to be losing your mind that I'll go to any extreme to prove you aren't. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe that journal got over to you by some perfectly normal means that I, somehow, blocked out. Or maybe you hypnotized me-or maybe I hypnotized myself, Jon."
   "Now it's your turn to have doubts about our test," I teased. "Maybe that bit about one of our professors seeing all this wasn't a bad idea. Do you want to invite some friends in for a little demonstration?"
   "No, not really," Karl said, shaking his head. "If you failed, then everyone would know you're nuts and, being your brother, I'd be judged guilty by association. On the other hand, if you succeeded, you'd be as notorious as if you had suddenly grown two heads. Besides, you might still be accused of hypnotism. No, that's not the answer."
   "Well, then, what do you suggest?" I asked. "I've kept my part of the bargain. I've demonstrated PK and even offered to do it again in front of witnesses. What more can I do?"
   "Let me think a minute," Karl said. "Something's coming-something's coming..."
   About twenty seconds later he shouted, "Eureka! I've got it! I'll take pictures. Yes, sir, I'll take pictures from every angle, then I'll buzz upstairs and borrow Snuffy Baldwin's dark room and develop them. How's that grab ya?"
   "Hmm," I said as I thought it over. "Don't you think Snuffy will want to see these big important pictures you're suddenly so hot about developing? Besides, it seems to me I can remember when you told him your time was too valuable to waste developing your own pictures any more."
   "I can handle Snuffy all right," Karl replied confidently. "You just recharge your batteries or whatever you do to get ready for another demonstration of PK before the untrickable eye of my camera."
   As he was talking Karl had walked over to the closet and pulled out his camera which he had picked up while we were overseas. For a time it seemed like he was forever taking pictures of all kinds of stuff, then developing and enlarging them, sometimes enormous sizes. I remember I had thought that somehow all this was some sort of compensation for the loss of his left eye. His passion for photography had gradually waned, however, till during the past six months he had taken very few pictures, had sold his enlarger, and had given all his chemicals and trays to Snuffy. Now it looked as if all his old camera-bug enthusiasm had suddenly returned.
   While Karl was preparing his camera, I was heeding his advice and preparing myself for another PK demonstration by again focusing my mind on that most wondrous of all experiences in my memory-the Macro contact. I felt the tiredness dissipate in that infinite ocean of omnipotent and omniscient universal mind. Soon I felt refreshed and ready to try teleporting my journal again.
   "All right," Karl said, shifting the angle of his flash attachment, "I'm ready to start taking pictures so you can start your levitation act any time you're ready."
   I looked at this journal lying on my lap, then reached out with my mental hands and suddenly lifted it almost to the ceiling. There were a number of flashes as Karl leaped about almost frantically taking pictures from every possible angle. I moved the journal to various parts of the room with Karl bobbing about either beneath, beside, or above it leaving a trail of used flashbulbs behind.
   Finally I realized that I was getting too tired to continue, so I maneuvered the journal back to the table from which I had originally moved it. I dropped it the last ten inches or so and it landed with a sharp slapping sound. I lay back in my chair, more exhausted even than after my first pebble-moving experience back in 2150. Now I could only hope that the pictures would turn out well enough to prove once and for all that my PK ability was real, and so, therefore, were my dream experiences of the 2150 Macro society.
   "You better rest," Karl said, "then have something to eat. I'll be up at Snuffy's developing these pictures."
   With these words Karl was out the door and I spent the next half-hour slowly recuperating my strength with the help of Macro contact memory.
   Later as I fixed a couple of sandwiches and leisurely ate them, I wondered how my PK demonstrations would affect Karl's attitude toward my dream experiences. Would even all the pictures he took manage to overcome Karl's deep-seated skepticism? After all, I thought, if he accepts this evidence as demonstrating the validity of my experiences in 2150 it will undermine his micro beliefs about the nature of man and ultimate reality.
   It wouldn't be easy to give up the view of psychology, sociology, and anthropology that man was merely a highly complex animal whose behavior is determined by the accidents of birth and environment.
   Having finished my sandwiches, I decided to bring my journal up to date with my most recent experiences here in 1976. As I wrote I kept stopping every once in a while, wondering how I could help those who were caught in a micro view of themselves and the world about them. I thought of some of my professors in psychology and sociology and remembered how they prided themselves on their scientific objectivity. Yet they refused to even consider any evidence of parapsychology, which claimed the existence of non-physical phenomena such as clairvoyance, telepathy, PK, and precognition-all modern heresy to the behavioral sciences of 1976. But what would it take to convince them, I wondered, or would they have to die and be replaced by more highly evolved incarnating souls? That was the answer C.I. had given me, but it seemed rather cold-blooded to resign yourself to waiting for a whole generation to die off.
   When I finally finished my writing it was almost time for me to go to sleep again. I wondered what was detaining Karl. Had something gone wrong with the developing? I was just getting ready to call Snuffy's room when Karl opened the door, waving a handful of pictures.
   "Here's the proof," he said, shaking his head. "Here's the concrete proof of your PK ability and, I suppose, the evidence to support the reality of your dream experiences."
   "What took you so long?" I asked.
   "Well, by the time I had the pictures developed," Karl replied, "Snuffy had gone out so I had his apartment all to myself to do a little uninterrupted thinking. Besides, he had fried up a bunch of chicken and suggested I finish it off. So I ate fried chicken and examined these pictures carefully to see if I could honestly remain skeptical about what you've been writing down in that journal of yours."
   "And what did you decide?" I asked.
   "That it's going to be the toughest decision I've ever made," Karl replied. "In fact, if I accept the validity of 2150 and its Macro society, I'm going to have to either look for a new profession or be damned careful to hide my new beliefs from my fellow behavioral scientists."
   "You don't think that I could demonstrate my Macro powers to other behavioral scientists?" I queried.
   "Ha!" Karl said, "I may be considering, adopting some mighty crazy ideas, but I'm not crazy enough to think anyone else is going to buy them. For example, for the last twenty-five years, some very detailed evidence from some highly reputable individuals has been presented on U.F.O. phenomena, and the very 'respectable' scientific associations refuse to take it seriously. Now here I am, a budding Ph.D., giving serious consideration to stories a lot more far-out than UFOs. Oh, lord, Jon, I'm going to hell in a hand basket!"
   "Congratulations, Karl," I said. "You'll make a Macro philosopher yet!"
   "Does being a Macro philosopher mean that you believe in things that almost everyone else calls crazy?" Karl asked.
   "Sometimes," I answered, "but more importantly, the Macro philosopher does not shut his mind to anything. He realizes that truth is always a function of the size of one's perspective. That is, the larger your perspective, the more truths you can comprehend."
   "I'm going to bed, and I'll think about that and about what these pictures mean," Karl replied. "I've had a hard day. My philosophy of life is being pulled up by the roots-maybe destroyed for good."
   I, too, headed for bed, looking forward to getting back to 2150.
   Once in bed, however, I found it difficult to stop thinking about the day's events-particularly my experience at the supermarket. Try as I did, it was impossible to forget my own fear, frustration, and anxiety during my confrontation with the angry woman and the store manager. I had to admit that if I really had been able to practice a Macro perspective, these negative feelings would not have occurred. I would have been able to completely demonstrate loving acceptance. How would I ever reach third-level awareness if I responded to threats as I had this afternoon?
   I shook my head sadly as I realized that the real test of high-level Macro awareness was not accepting with love the members of the Macro society-that was easy but accepting with love micro man. That was the greatest challenge of all.
   The one commandment of the philosopher-tutor, Jesus, to love one another-even your enemies-had always seemed to me a ridiculously impossible commandment. And it was impossible for micro man-only the highest Macro levels could consistently demonstrate this when living among micro man. Now I understood why many members of the Macro society volunteered to teach and counsel on Micro Island. Would I have to do that, I wondered? I'll think about that later, I thought, as my mind finally wound down and accepted sleep

CHAPTER 10: Jon's Past Lives

   I awakened to the sight of Carol and the two children just entering the pool. I knew that, once again, only a few seconds had passed in the year 2150 while I had experienced a whole day, from morning to night, in 1976. I wondered if I would ever understand the concept of subjective simultaneous time.
   Surprisingly, the few seconds of sleep in 2150 had reduced my fatigue. I decided to join Carol and the children in the pool.
   Before reaching the edge of the pool I removed my tunic and dropped it down an opening provided for this purpose. It would travel to the underground cleaning plant, be washed, and be returned to this recreation area. As I stood naked at the side of the pool I was pleased to realize that I no longer felt uncomfortable at my nudity-even in front of the children. Since everyone swam naked and strolled about the pool naked, I would have felt uncomfortable if I had been clothed.
   I located Carol at the far end of the pool some 100 yards away. Diving in, I swam toward her. I had never enjoyed swimming as much as running, but after the loss of my leg, when I could no longer run, I found swimming very satisfying. Swimming with two strong legs was even more so, and I reached Carol feeling more refreshed than when I had entered the water.
   We played water tag with Neal and Jean. Their agility in the water was remarkable. Like young seals, they seemed equally at ease above or below the surface, so without Carol's help the game of tag would have been no contest at all. After about fifteen minutes of this delightful but strenuous activity, I climbed out and lay down on the soft mats beside the pool. Shortly Carol joined me and we lay side by side in the warm sun watching the seemingly inexhaustible children continue the game.
   Suddenly I was aware of a tingling in my Macro identity bracelet. I looked first at it, then at Carol, who said, "It's C.I. calling you."
   I lifted it to my ear and heard C.I. request that I meet with Lea back at my C.I. room overlooking the lake. Then I heard Lea's soft resonant voice saying that she was already at the C.I. center and would be waiting for me.
   "I'll be right there, Lea," I said and started to get up to run back to the research building when Carol reached out to stop me.
   "There's a faster way," she said. "Come with me."
   We stopped at the clothing rack, where Carol picked up a freshly cleaned tunic for herself and one for me. As we slipped into these, Carol led me toward the exit of the recreation area.
   As we ran I picked up the telepathic farewells from the children and returned them, expressing my happiness at having met them and my hope of seeing them again soon.
   Carol said that we would probably be seeing them every afternoon. By this time we were near the exit and Carol was pointing to a red ten-foot metal-looking square on the ground. We stepped into the middle of this and, as Carol used PK to push a button at the edge of the. square, we disappeared into the ground.
   Neither metal nor cement was used in any of the buildings. What looked like metal, cement, or marble was all some sort of synthetic material which could be molded into almost any shape and strength to stand up under tremendous loads: Our red square turned out to be another void that took us down almost 300 feet below ground to their subway area.
   As we swiftly descended Carol informed me that we would use one of their two-seated subway cars which would take us the almost three-mile distance to the research building in less than two minutes.
   We walked to a torpedo-shaped bubble containing two large comfortable seats, which, as we sat in them, enfolded us. Carol turned a dial to a setting marked C.I., pushed it in, and our bubble car seemed to rise on a column of air into an opening above us. Then in complete darkness I had the sensation of tremendous acceleration for a moment followed by great deceleration and then we were getting out.
   Walking to the middle of another red platform we rose to the surface just outside the entrance of the learning center. It was all so fast that my impressions were still rather garbled.
   Carol left me, saying that she would see me back at our Alpha. I hurried into the building and up to what I now thought of as "my" C.I. room. As I opened the door I saw my beautiful twin soul standing by the window turn quickly with a smile. My heart seemed to contract, my breathing accelerated, and tears stung my eyes.
   "Lea," I said, "you are the loveliest, most exciting woman in the world. I can't think of words that really describe how I feel about you."
   "You are me, Jon," she replied, "my twin soul, and you don't have to tell me how you feel. They are my feelings, too."
   We stood silently, then reached out with our minds to each other and felt the strange and delightful sensations of mind contact.
   As we slowly disengaged from our deep mind contact I could not help comparing Lea's fair-complexioned blond beauty with the dark loveliness of Carol. I compared Lea with the sun and Carol with the moon and knew that, while they were as different as the sun and moon, I loved them both.
   Seeing the dancing lights in the blue eyes before me I knew that my thoughts were shared.
   "I'm glad," Lea said, "that you have learned that Macro love is not limited to one person."
   "I still don't understand it, Lea," I replied, "how I can love you both in such similar and yet different ways. Then to realize, by actually experiencing your feeling, that you really have no jealousy even as you observe me comparing your physical and mental attributes with Carol's."
   Lea nodded her lovely blond head. "I know," she said, "that you would not be able to believe this possible if you had not developed telepathy. But then, it's easier for twin souls because it would be impossible for me to be jealous of myself."
   "Oh, Lea," I cried out, taking her in my arms, "how am I going to do it? I have only three months. The possibility of losing you is more than I can handle. I never want to live separated from you again."
   "But, Jon," she laughed softly, "have you never heard that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?"
   "How can you take it so lightly?" I asked.
   "Because, Jon," she replied, "I know that the only separation possible exists at the micro levels-never at the Macro ones. We can be separated by time and space, but never in the Macro depths of our minds."
   "All right," I stated, "there's my greatest motivation for developing Macro awareness-so I will never have to feel separate from you again."
   "The reason I asked you here today," she said, "is that both Rana and I feel you are ready to remember a few of your past lives."
   "Terrific!" I said, "When do we start?"
   "Right now," she replied. "Sit down and we'll ask C.I. to provide the stimuli for Macro contact."
   She picked up my thought and said, "Macro contact can be achieved without either sexual union or even touching. This is fortunate because if we joined sexually now it -would diminish your desire for Macro contact so greatly that it would probably be impossible for you to attain third-level awareness in the short time allotted."
   "Then, you mean we can't share Macro immersion until I demonstrate third-level awareness?" I asked.
   "Not and be able to permanently bridge the time barrier that separates us now," she replied. "But that only means we have less than three months to wait, and we can do that since it means a lifetime of being together thereafter in the Macro society."
   As she finished these last words, C.I. began the now familiar visual and audio stimuli which helped produce such vast mind expansion. Very quickly I found myself flowing like a river through infinite space until I was joined by Lea and we were again one mind and one soul.
   Then in my mind I heard Lea say that we would be going back in time until we reached a point where my soul had incarnated into a prehistoric Chinese culture.
   Suddenly I found myself both experiencing the body of a thirty-year-old Chinese slave trader and simultaneously, observing from outside that body. I knew that I was a cruel and vicious person who took pleasure in the ill treatment of the slaves whom I owned and traded. Scene after scene of brutal, degrading treatment of others passed before my eyes and I felt sick with self-hatred and shame. Then I died and suffered the miserable existence of sharing the low astral planes with similar depraved personalities like myself until I was born again into one of the earliest Egyptian dynasties.
   I became aware of this next incarnation when I again saw and simultaneously experienced myself as a giant black Numidean slave working in the stone quarries of the Pharaoh. Unfortunately my physical vitality was tremendous, so I lived scores of years in extremely hard labor with many cruel slave masters who seemed to delight in laying their whips upon my massive back and shoulders. Finally, and mercifully, I died.
   While I had the impression that there were other lifetimes in between, the next incarnation that I became aware of was in a later Egyptian period. I was a Pharaoh who succeeded in freeing the slaves in his land during his reign. I saw myself trying to rule wisely and well, but being constantly frustrated by the corrupt and treacherous priesthood. Finally my royal wrath could no longer be contained and I killed the fat and foppish high priest along with as many of his lesser priests as I could get my hands on. But my bloody actions divided my country, and I, too, was murdered at the end of a long civil war.
   Again I had the impression of many incarnations intervening before I saw and felt myself wearing the robes of a cardinal in the early Renaissance church of Rome. I was a fanatic at insisting that sins be driven out of human flesh by torture. Gleefully and with "holy vengeance" I devised newer and better torture methods, such as-my God-chopping off my victim's limbs a section at a time. While I frequently used the burning stake, I usually reserved it for women who refused me their sexual favors. I was indeed a monstrous hypocrite. Because the pope was weak and I was rich and ruthless, I became the most powerful priest in the church. Fortunately for the people of Italy, who lived in fear of me, the plague favored them by carrying me off prematurely.
   This death was followed by a hideous period, on the lowest astral planes. Since my selfish desires kept me from rising to higher levels, I was forced to associate with the most loathsome and distorted personalities.
   Then brief impressions of other lives flashed by until once again I became aware of a vividly clear incarnation as the daughter of a poor stone-cutter living in a Spain shuddering from the excesses of the Inquisition. I was the eldest in a very poor but large family of eight daughters including myself. I worked long hours to support my aging parents and my many sisters and probably would have lived a long life of this menial drudgery if I had not had this one heretical obsession: I refused to accept the idea of eternal hell. My family spent many years trying to force me to recant this heresy until my sisters, in order to save my poor soul, called upon the officers of the Inquisition for help. My obsession was stronger than the pain of many ingenious means of torture and, in a last desperate attempt to save my soul, I was burned at the stake surrounded by the faces of my sisters praying for my redemption.
   The pain and fear associated with this past flaming death caused me to wake up with a scream in the year 1976. It was 4 a.m. and Karl was asking me if I was all right. After assuring him that I was okay now, I fell back to sleep and awakened in my C.I. chair back in 2150.
   Lea was bending over me wiping the sweat off my face with a damp cloth. Seeing my eyes open, she lowered her face to mine and gently kissed my lips. Then she said, "Now you know one of the reasons why micro man doesn't want to remember past lives."
   "My God," I exclaimed, "if they are all as horrible as mine, I don't blame anyone for not wanting to remember them!"
   "Oh, they aren't all horrible," Lea assured me. "You had many lives that were rather peaceful and uneventful. But you didn't learn much from most of them. The five incarnations that you've just relived formed a learning pattern which illustrated to you the consequences of cruel treatment of others. Your soul selects an opportunity for you to grow on. If you waste the opportunity in one life, your soul balances that with an opposite opportunity in another life."
   "That's a hard way to learn," I complained. "Does everyone have to learn that painfully?"
   "Everyone who chooses the spiritual devolution of the soul ends up with total delusionary amnesia of their past and, thus, has no Macro awareness of the perfect order maintained by the soul in selecting learning opportunities. If you can't remember your macrocosmic oneness with all, you will desire micro power to alleviate your fears of loneliness and weakness. Micro man treats others selfishly, cruelly, to increase his feelings of power, adequacy, and security," was her answer.
   "All right, Lea," I said. "I sure hope I learned something from those horrible experiences. Can't I relive some pleasant ones?"
   "Certainly," she replied. "It won't be necessary to ask C.I. for help any more. We've opened a pathway to your past. In the future if you meditate deeply you will be able to recall fragments of many more lives. For the moment, however, lie back in your chair arid I'll help you practice retro cognition."
   I followed her suggestion and allowed her mind to help me relax and 'put aside my conscious micro concerns. Soon, with her help, I was once again floating through time-on and on-through peripheral flashes of other lives and experiences. However, these were not ones that Lea wished us to look at in more detail, so we continued our journey along the mighty river of time.
   Before long I focused clearly on a life as an islander in the tropical South Pacific. It was a lovely peaceful life in a small Polynesian society in which I watched myself grow from a young boy into strong manhood. I married a dark lovely girl whom I recognized immediately as Carol, although her physical appearance was certainly not the same as in 2150. We had a number of children, among whom I noticed were Neal and Jean.
   Our life on this Pacific island was one of cooperation and love. Our head man was a very wise and patient leader who seemed to know how to resolve human problems at an early stage before great harm could arise. By the time I reached middle age he was a very old man, yet I recognized in him the soul of Rana. Upon his death I was accepted as leader by all and spent many happy years before the advent of the white traders.
   I was very old when the great ships arrived bearing the cruel, lust-filled white men. I tried to warn my people of the anger I felt in these strangers, but like curious children they could not resist the fascination and excitement surrounding these strange beings.
   The fascination was short-lived for soon the white men began taking our young men and women off with them when they sailed away. The day came when if we saw the great white sails approaching our island, we would all try to hide. But our island was small and the ships sent out search parties to rout out all who hid. It was then that I tried to organize an escape to another island, but we were discovered and I, as the leader, was executed.
   It seemed that after this life I had a very pleasant sojourn on the higher astral planes in which I renewed acquaintances with many old friends and was briefly reunited with Lea. Together we planned new incarnations in which we could learn to further overcome the micro desires which kept us separate. She left our temporary resting place first in order to incarnate as a male of the British nobility during the late 18th century. I left the astral level soon afterward to incarnate as a male in one of the North American Indian tribes of the early 19th century.
   In this last incarnation I devoted my life to philosophy and healing and became a respected medicine man. In late middle age I began to spend almost all of my time seeking out and teaching young children how to live more loving and accepting lives. While I experienced some opposition to my teachings from the more warlike members of the tribe, my reputation as a healer was so great that no one openly opposed me. I am convinced that in time I could have changed the course of history for my people, but again I was thwarted by white invaders. One day while almost all of our men were off hunting, white soldiers came charging down upon our camp, killing women and children and anyone else they could find. I died trying to protect the young children of my school, some of whom I recognized as members of my 2150 Alpha.
   When I had returned to consciousness in our C.I. room I asked Lea why it was necessary for me to experience such tragedy and frustration. She took her time before answering, then replied with a question of her own.
   "From the seven lives you have now reviewed, Jon," she asked, "what's the most important lesson you have learned?"
   "I'm not sure, Lea," I replied. "It seems that sooner or later my hopes and goals were always thwarted and I died frustrated and dissatisfied."
   "Only your micro self was frustrated and dissatisfied," Lea said, "and only your micro desires and goals remained unfulfilled. In other words, the negative seeds you have sown have always produced a crop of frustration and misery, but the positive seeds have always produced happy, satisfying experiences."
   "But in these last two lives I was killed trying to protect others," I protested.
   "No," Lea replied, "your frustration was caused by your micro resistance. You felt that what was happening to your people was unjust, and bad. You did not accept it as a growth experience, perfect for its time and space, carefully selected by every soul who experienced it."
   "Are you saying that I should have welcomed the destruction of my people in those lives?" I asked.
   "Only," Lea replied, "if you had Macro awareness could you have accepted micro cruelty, lust, and greed with understanding and loving acceptance."
   "But if you are a decent person, you must fight injustice," I insisted.
   "If you have a micro perspective," Lea answered, "then you will perceive injustice and have to struggle against it. But there is no injustice from a Macro view, for we can only experience that which we have created. So what were you resisting and fighting against?"
   "My own learning experiences, I guess," was my reply.
   "That's right." She nodded and smiled at me. "From the Macro view of cosmic oneness we can clearly see that all resistance is exerted against ourselves. We can see that we must reap the consequences of all our thoughts and actions-both positive and negative. It's only with the micro view that you can perceive any injustice or any enemy other than yourself."
   "I guess it must take many lifetimes to learn to accept that," I commented.
   "Yes, it's difficult for man," she replied, "but we have as many lifetimes as we need in which to learn it. Contrary to micro religion, there is no eternal infinite hell to punish temporary infinite mistakes. That would, indeed, be hellishly unjust."
   "It seems to me," I said, "that as long as I can avoid other micro beings, I have no problems."
   "Other than boredom," Lea answered. "But you don't learn very quickly by avoiding others just so you don't see your own shortcomings."
   "What do you mean?" I asked.
   "I mean," she answered, "that you feel uncomfortable and dissatisfied with others only to the extent that you don't feel adequate to deal with them-that is, only when you feel they are a threat to you. For instance, if in your past two lives you had been able to either drive your enemies away or help your people escape them, you would have been pleased with yourself. But this micro pleasure would only have postponed the time when you inevitably must learn your lessons and evolve."
   "So if I hadn't experienced it in that life I would still have had it waiting for me in my next incarnation," I said.
   "In this life, Jon, you hate to see people mistreated and you don't like people who hurt others. As you evolve, you will realize that what people fear and hate most in others is only their own negative past. You, for example, treated slaves and other people cruelly in your past lives-now in this life you can't stand these traits in others," Lea explained.
   "So you are saying," I interpreted, "that we feel uncomfortable with others and fear or hate them only to the extent that we see our own past selves in them."
   Lea kissed me and said, "You're learning so fast, Jon."
   "Ahh," I murmured, "if you were using the Macro perspective, you would be happy even if I was the slowest learner in the world."
   Lea broke into joyous peals of laughter and finally said, "You're right, Jon. I can maintain the Macro perspective for only the briefest moments. But I can remember these moments, and that keeps me from getting caught for very long in micro viewpoints which might overwhelm me with misery and unhappiness."
   "Then one difference," I said, "between micro man and Macro man is the degree of retro cognition or memory of his past."
   "Exactly," Lea responded. "We live lives of fear, frustration, and inadequacy only to the extent that we have forgotten our past. This self-induced amnesia is always the result of our desperate attempts to delay re-taking classes-learning opportunities-that we failed in the past."
   "Then the solution is to remember everything," I said.
   "And when we do remember everything, including the illusory nature of our separateness," Lea said, "then we have total Macro awareness."
   "Then according to Macro philosophy, all learning is simply remembering," I postulated.
   "That's true," Lea replied, "but only from the Macro perspective-certainly not from any micro view. You've remembered a lot today, though. Now it's time for you to return to your Alpha."
   "When will I see you?" I asked.
   She smiled and the lights danced in her eyes as she said, "When we are ready again, we'll see each other again."
   I was able to accept that answer better this time. I left Lea at the C.I. center and walked back to my Alpha. I thought briefly of using the subway, but the early evening was so lovely that I decided to walk. Besides, it would give me an opportunity to think over some of my recent experiences.
   When I got back to our Alpha the rest of the members were just finishing dinner, so I had missed the Macro dance and the swim. They greeted me warmly but there was no prying or questioning about my experiences. I quickly selected my meal, and enjoyed listening to the rest of my Alpha talking about visiting Micro Island. I soon discovered that they all planned to eventually volunteer for service on the island. Their discussion centered on what could be learned and at what triad or awareness level it could be learned best.
   I told them about my seven life reviews and how I had recognized some of them in my last lifetime as the children I was trying to teach. They remembered that one, as well as many more in which they said we had known each other but which I had not yet remembered. I was fascinated listening to them talk about some of these lives and how they had developed the Macro power of retrocognition to the point where they could see the accumulating learning patterns and their slow but steady evolution in awareness.
   I was reminded of the Macro learning curve which went up and down and up and down like a wave, with each up a little cumulatively higher than the last up and each down a little higher than the last down [see C.I. Data Excerpts]. Micro man with his limited temporal perspective can not see this cumulative effect and is, thus, often discouraged and overwhelmed with apparent futility and hopelessness at the -many failures and frustrations in his life.
   My Alpha had stayed at our table to keep me company while I ate, but now they went off to their various P.E. tutors.
   I'm going to interject here the fact that after every meal we rinsed our mouths with a special water-like solution that not only cleaned our teeth but also made tooth decay impossible. There were no dentists in the Macro society just as there were no medical doctors. To me the liberation from the discomforts of a frequently sick and steadily decaying body was one of the greatest achievements of the Macro society. The thought that no one died until they chose to was phenomenal.
   After the others had left, Carol told me that we would not be seeing Rana this evening but another' tutor, Victor. As we made our way to the eleventh-floor tutoring rooms; Carol explained that she saw Rana only about once every three or four evenings. The rest of the Personal Evolution time was spent with Victor or occasionally other Macro counselors whom – she had never seen before and rarely saw again.
   I was unprepared for the huge stature of Victor. He was the tallest person that I had yet seen in 2150. At a little over seven feet two inches and weighing almost 300 pounds, Victor was an impressive-looking man. Deep healing tones of green dominated his tunic. He was magnificently proportioned, having the physical beauty of all Macro society members.
   When I asked his age I learned that he had 71 years, but he looked no more than 30.
   During the first half of our meeting Carol and Victor talked about the problems that Carol was experiencing in attaining Macro contacts. As they talked I was impressed with the qualities of patience, humor, and kindness that this mighty giant radiated. I could see why he would be a successful Macro counselor, for it was easy to talk with him. He always seemed to know the right words or action to stimulate your mind to further activity in discovering new insights.
   She and Victor discussed the difference between desire -defined as a joyously peaceful acceptance of the fact that what you most want to happen will happen-and anxiety, which was defined as a fear that what you most want to happen will not happen.
   Then I talked about my realization that I would have to live on Micro Island soon if I was to learn how to evolve beyond my micro past to a Macro future. Victor agreed with me but suggested that I develop my Macro powers more fully before I volunteered as a resource person or tutor for Micro Islanders.
   We discussed various ways of doing this. I wondered whether or not Carol should accompany me to Micro Island. We decided that her presence could help me grow a lot faster than if I went alone. She was delighted that I wanted her to come along.
   As we were leaving, I told Victor that I was sure I had known him before. He laughed and said that he could remember having been tortured to death by me when I was a fanatical Italian cardinal. He assured me, however, that we had experienced other pleasant life-times together.
   Back in our Alpha room Carol and I bathed together, then stretched out on our huge bed.
   We discussed our day, and I mentioned how intriguing it was that I fortuitously translated to a point in time' where there were so many of my friends or enemies from the past.
   She assured me that there was nothing fortuitous about it. She went on to explain that all souls travel in groups, experiencing and re-experiencing each other in different roles, much the same as players in a road company who fill many different roles in many different plays, in many different towns, before their contract runs out. Yet, they, are always interacting with basically the same players.
   I teased her, saying that if she was my fellow player I might stay on the road forever. We rolled across the bed to the rhythm of her laughter.
   She asked C.I. to provide Macro contact stimuli as we attempted to free our minds of all micro concern and accept the macrocosmic oneness of all.
   Once again I became part of a great river flowing toward the beginning and end of all things-toward the infinite macrocosmic ocean. I flowed on and on, but this time there was an urgency to my movement. Instead of flowing in ever larger channels there seemed to be a constriction that was producing tension and unrest within me. I fought to break the growing pressure of restriction, but the harder I struggled, the greater the pressure grew, until my mind was filled with pain. Finally I screamed aloud, and the Macro stimuli ended along with the constricting pressure within my mind.
   I looked at Carol and saw that her eyes were closed but her face was damp with tears, and I realized that my eyes were wet, too.
   "What happened?" I asked. "What went wrong?"
   Carol opened her eyes and looked at me. Then with a sad, tender smile she said, "I'm sorry, Jon, that I couldn't help you. It was my anxiety for Macro contact that got in our way again."
   "Someone I used to know once told me that each thing happens in its own time. You can't push the river," I teased to lighten the mood.
   "Knowing and doing are two very different things!" Carol responded, then added, "In order to apply what we learned this afternoon we must give up all micro desires that we are clinging to for maintenance of our micro egos."
   I shook my head, saying, "That sounds so impossible that I don't understand how I ever achieved even one Macro contact, much less two of them."
   "You had less to lose then, Jon-less to let go of," Carol said. "Now your micro pleasures are greater and they seem to outweigh your pleasure in and desire for Macro contact while at the same time. increasing your anxiety for it!"
   "What a dilemma," I moaned. "The more happiness I find with you and the Macro society, the less willing I am to give it up. The less willing I am to give it up, the less able I am to attain Macro contact. And if I can't attain more Macro contacts, I won't grow in awareness and I will lose it all!"
   Suddenly we were entwined in one another's arms passionately devouring each other with kisses in a desperate effort to overcome a possible future of dismal separation and loss. I called to C.I. for Macro stimuli and the mounting resonances of our soul note vibrations filled the room. Now we could focus our minds and, thus, our bodies on Macro immersions, which did not require the giving up of everything and the acceptance of everything, as did Macro contact. Now we could concentrate on joining our two surging, pulsating rivers of desire for each other into one great river of peaceful unity and contentment. We succeeded gloriously.
   As we lay resting peacefully together I thought to myself that this Macro immersion, which Carol and I had achieved, was so much more satisfying than any physical union I had ever experienced that I would never give it up voluntarily now that I had found it.
   Yet, as I thought this, I heard Carol's voice in my mind saying, "But, Jon, you know that what we are enjoying is only temporal at best, lasting but a few minutes or hours. What we are both seeking is the infinite, timeless joy of total Macro awareness. Our anxiety regarding the possible loss of what we share only impedes our progress.
   "We must move steadily on toward the ability to enjoy today fully without insisting that tomorrow hold the same thing. A foot must give up the security of one rung of a ladder before it can gain the security and achievement of a higher rung."
   I sighed. "I know you're right, Carol. Every little girl knows that someday she will grow up and stop playing with dolls. Still, it would be difficult for her to imagine ever wanting to give them up."
   "That's the nicest part, Jon. You don't ever have to give up anything that you don't want to give up. It's just that what you want to give up and what you want to keep changes with each plateau you reach. For example, I know that you no longer 'want to keep' having sexual unions with anyone whose soul vibrations are not very close to your own. Yet this is not because anyone told you, you had to give them up. It's the natural and inevitable evolution of the soul. Only by giving up the unevolved part of our micro load are we able to step one rung higher."
   We kissed again with great longing and a tinge of sadness. Then I gently pushed Carol away from me and withdrew from her until we were separated by several feet. We lay for a while just looking at each other. Finally I said, "Carol, I'm not ready to give up my feelings for you. I want to possess you and cling to you, and I realize that these feelings are micro, not Macro."
   "I feel the same way," she said. "Never before in this lifetime have I felt so intensely about anyone. But then, that's evolutionary, too. Each love we share prepares us to more fully experience the better one which lies ahead if we just evolve enough to be willing to take the risk of loving again and again as long as we live."
   "It was two lifetimes ago that we lived together on that South Pacific island and loved each other as we love now," I recalled.
   "You're thinking that if you hadn't remembered that past life your feelings for me wouldn't have grown so intense, aren't you?" Carol said.
   "Yes," I said, "but I'm very happy that I did remember you, for that was the most enjoyable lifetime I have yet reviewed, in spite of its tragic ending."
   "Oh, Jon," she said, "I love you so much, but I can remember a lifetime many ages ago which I shared with a twin soul, and I know that someday I will reunite with him just as someday you will reunite with Lea."
   I thought about what she had just said and then I smiled.
   "You're right, as always," I said. "When I'm with Lea I know that she represents ultimate completion for me. I know that I love her with every vibration of my soul, my mind, and my body. But, Carol, I also know that I love you with a love that is equal in ultimate value, if not in ultimate nature."
   "It is this very problem," Carol replied, "that must be resolved in order to attain the highest levels of awareness."
   "You mean," I said, "that Lea has already solved this problem?"
   "Of course," Carol nodded. "She wouldn't be aquamarine if she hadn't been able to give up all micro desires many times. Certainly to be able to give you to me so that you may obtain Macro immersion and Macro contacts with me, not herself, demonstrates very highly evolved awareness and balance."
   Now Carol closed the distance between us and was once more nestled in my arms. "Lea can remember," she continued, "lifetimes with you that you have not yet remembered. It's significant that when she was guiding you through the pages of your akashic record, that is, your memory records of the past, she did not select a lifetime which the two of you had shared."
   "Why not?" I asked.
   Carol answered, "Don't you realize that if she had shown you only the happy moments of completion between the two of you, there would have been no micro challenges to overcome?"
   "You mean," I said, "like my problem of giving up my desires for you?"
   "Yes," she replied. "After all, if she had helped you to relive only moments you had shared with her, you would not have remembered your past life with me and you would not have this overwhelming desire for me."
   "My God!" I exclaimed. "She knew that she was intensifying my desires for you. She deliberately set up this problem."
   "Let's more accurately say that you set it up in order to help yourself overcome the difficulty you have-in letting go of micro situations and relationships," Carol answered. "Lea knew that if she didn't help you overcome this problem you would not be able to achieve level-three awareness and you would be separated for at least another lifetime. And remember, she can recall the joy of Macro immersion with you, a twin soul. Yet she chose to give this up so that you might attain a greater goal-union with her and the Macro society for the rest of this lifetime.
   "And if I don't achieve level-three awareness," I responded "she'll have sacrificed herself for nothing."
   "Not for nothing, Jon. For growth.
   "And not herself. Just a few days, weeks, or months of one lifetime. She knows that there are many more-or, converting it from our simultaneous-time concept to your linear-time concept-there will be many more. Besides, every failure is a success, and I'm sure that Lea doesn't forget that very often."
   I nodded. "Even if I fail, she'll be able to accept it as bringing me that much closer to success. However, unless I have attained a rather high level of awareness, I won't be able to accept my failure in spite of the fact that I intellectually know I should."
   "Tonight as we go to sleep," Carol suggested, "let's ementally reaffirm our plan for our growth."
   "All right," I said. "I understand that we get what we really inwardly want most, so I guess it makes good sense to be specific about our intent."
   "First," Carol began, "we will be joyously accepting of what is, knowing that it is our own perfect creation.
   "Second, we will, in our daily activity, walk with an open hand-that is, we will 'hold on to' nothing.
   "Third, we will accept every opportunity for growth and do our best to learn the lesson it offers.
   "Fourth, we will live constantly in the joy of our macrocosmic oneness with all-or, stated within your concept of time-all that is, all that was, and all that ever will be.
   "Let's keep these intentions, these paths, lightly and joyously within our essence as we drift off to sleep."
   As I was falling asleep, I hoped that Carol was having better success than I in convincing myself that I had the strength and understanding to resolve our problem. I wanted it resolved, but I didn't want to pay the price. No matter how I argued with myself, I couldn't give up my anxiety about losing Carol.
   Finally, exhausted from the struggle, I fell asleep.

CHAPTER 11: Neda

   I awakened to the sound of Karl closing the door as he left for his class: It was early, only 7:45. I lay back in bed and wished that Carol was beside me. I wished that I had the power to pull her through time 174 years to the now of my apartment.
   I had to smile at the thought of what a sensation Carol would make if I took her to the student union-her magnificent six-foot-three-inch body, her face of incredible classic beauty, and her tremendous joy and vitality would really stir things up. Talk about riots! I could see micro man fighting savagely just to get close to her.
   And how would I feel? Well, I thought, from my limited micro perspective, I wouldn't want to share her with anyone, so I wouldn't even let her step out of the apartment!
   I finally decided that it was a good thing I couldn't transport Carol to 1976 because 1976 wasn't ready for her, and while I was in 1976 I probably wouldn't be ready for her, either.
   This last thought made me wonder what would happen when Carol and I went to Micro Island. Of course, the inhabitants would be used to seeing members of the Macro society, but they often tried to kill these visitors. How would I react if someone tried to kill Carol? I didn't have to think very long about my answer-I would fight and even kill, if I had to, in order to protect her.
   Oh, that's great, I thought, now I'm going to Micro Island to perform like a medieval knight errant fighting for the life and honor of his fair lady.
   I shook my head in amused frustration. Where Carol was concerned, I was developing some very micro feelings. I decided that I had better practice my Macro powers with micro people today and see if I could do better, than I had at the supermarket. Maybe I could learn how to comfortably deal with micro people before I went to Micro Island. After all, 1976 offered me an ample supply to practice on!
   By the time I was through eating I had decided that when I finished writing in my journal I would go looking for threatening situations and see if I could learn to handle them.
   Three hours later I was sitting at a table in the seemingly always crowded student union cafeteria drinking hot chocolate and trying to telepathically tune in to the people about me.
   At first I picked up the usual micro concerns such as fear about semester. exams, excitement over this evening's basketball game or date, money worries, or frustrations at not being more successful with others. This last frustration was often sexual, particularly from the table full of men near me who were wistfully eyeing the girls as they passed by. It was their scornful sneers at one of the girls who passed that caused me to look up to see the object of their contempt.
   She was a tall, thin girl, so gaunt that she appeared almost emaciated. Her hair was long and straight without any luster and hung in untidy disarray about her shoulders. Her face with its bony nose was one of the most unappealing I had ever seen. Her clothes were too loose, too long, and so nondescript that they seemed to hang on her like burlap bags.
   I reached out and made contact with her mind and quickly withdrew. Never had I experienced such sadness, such misery, such bitter hopelessness. I shook my head to clear it of the repugnance, then looked at her again.
   She was sadly looking about for an empty table where she could be somewhat away from others. It was close to noon and almost all the tables were filled except my small one, which had space for another person across from me. I decided to have her sit at my table. I reached out with my mind and willed her to look at me. She did and I smiled at her, gesturing at the empty seat across from me. She looked behind her and to her side to see if I wasn't addressing someone else, then looked at me with a bewildered and pathetically uncertain gaze. I sent out a flood of warm, confident, accepting thoughts. The change in her expression was slow in coming, but when it came I saw the beginnings of an incredulous look of hope.
   I got up as she approached my table and helped her with the tray upon which she was precariously balancing a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. She thanked me in a low whisper, seated herself quickly, and proceeded to occupy herself with her soup, using it almost as a barrier to hide behind.
   I continued to bombard her mind with the most loving and accepting thoughts that I could generate.
   After about five minutes of my intense struggle to overcome her mental despair and chronic suspiciousness I began to achieve some success. She was feeling much more comfortable with me and was beginning to steal occasional glances at my face. It was then that I decided to try talking with her.
   "I'm Jon Lake," I said. "I'm working on my doctorate in psychology."
   She looked up at me with a startled expression. I could feel her uncertainty as to how to respond. I smiled my most engaging smile and said, "I guess you're not sure how to take my talking to you when we've never met before. I couldn't help feeling that you were lonely, and I can remember feeling that way myself."
   She bobbed her head at me and then stared intently at her empty soup bowl.
   I reached deep within her mind and discovered a great longing to respond to me but an equally great fear of being rejected or looking foolish-those two universal fears of micro man. I continued to beam positive, confident, and accepting thoughts to her.
   I wondered what her name was and willed her to tell me. There was a short struggle, then she spoke. "My name is Neda Cricksley," she whispered in such a low voice that if I hadn't already picked her name up telepathically I'd have had to ask her to repeat it.
   "Neda," I said, "I like that name and I like you, too."
   After I said this I realized that for some reason I did like this girl. I had gotten beneath her unattractive surface and made contact with a part of her soul which was very satisfying to me. Without thinking, I reached out and captured one of her thin bony hands.
   Again I saw the startled expression on her face, but I willed her to accept my gesture as one of kindness and genuine concern. I could feel the tension in her arm and body slowly subside. I decided it was time to take the next step.
   "Tell me about yourself, Neda," I asked. "I want to know all about you." I felt her wondering why I should want to know about her. "Because I like you," I responded to this unspoken thought. "And I think I can help solve some problems that are bothering you."
   "How do you know I have problems that you can help me with?" she whispered.
   "Well," I replied, "everyone has some problems, and one of my goals in life is to help as many people as possible solve their problems."
   She thought about this for a moment, then said, "I want to thank you for being so kind to me. I've never met anyone like you before. I don't know how or why, but I'm convinced that somehow you do like me and you do want to help me. I... I'm very grateful."
   "Their you'll let me have the pleasure of getting you dessert," I said. "How about a chocolate sundae, or maybe strawberry?"
   She smiled shyly and didn't respond, but I caught her thought of how good a strawberry sundae would taste.
   "Okay," I said, "I'll surprise you. All you have to do is save my seat for me."
   As I left our table I sent as powerful a thought as I could to the girl at the ice cream counter, and by the time I got to her she was already busily preparing two sundaes, one chocolate and one strawberry. I waited until she finished, thanked her for reading my mind, and paid her for them. All the way back to our table I could see her startled expression and feel her wonderment at the kooky possibility that she really had somehow read my mind.
   The strawberry sundae proved to be the final step in overcoming Neda's shyness with me. She began talking about herself. She was a twenty-year-old liberal arts junior who lived off campus with her mother and stepfather. While she didn't say so, I picked up from her mind that she desperately wanted to escape from her tyrannical mother, who hated her for being ugly, and a coarse sneering stepfather who enjoyed tormenting her about her looks.
   She didn't know what she wanted to do after college and, while her grades were excellent, going to classes was a torture because of her shyness. She was majoring in English composition and literature, and her one escape was in reading and writing.
   As I listened intently to her talking about her happiness in writing short stories, I noticed that the more she talked about this area in her life the more animated her face became. The dark eyes came alive and the voice rose from a whisper to an easily understandable level. I learned from her mind that I was the second person in her life that she had ever talked to about her writing. The first person had been her high school English teacher, an elderly lady who had died shortly after Neda graduated. Since this old woman had been the only friend in her life, her loss had been almost too much for Neda to endure.
   I realized that Neda had completely accepted her mother's view of her as being an ugly blight on her parent's lives. Consequently she was filled with self-loathing and massive feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy. It was no wonder that she tried desperately to avoid contact with others, since she believed her appearance was completely revolting to all who saw her.
   Now, how could I help Neda? Every night I had access to all the knowledge of the Macro society's Central Information. How could my Macro powers change Neda's life? What did I want to do?
   'Well, I thought, I want to help her find a new life in which she can learn to like herself and the world about her. But wouldn't I need all the power and wisdom of a Rana to accomplish such a miracle? As I carefully, but surreptitiously, examined the face and figure of Neda, I wondered if even tenth-level awareness would be sufficient to change Neda's self-concept. But I decided I was going to try.
   After questioning Neda about her typing ability and learning that she was a very good typist, I offered her a job typing up notes from the dissertation research that Karl and I had been doing and which he was still working on. When I finally convinced her that I really needed her help and that she would be doing me a great favor by accepting the job, I took the big plunge.
   "Neda," I said, "I want you to move out of your mother's home and into an apartment at the building where I live. Yes," I said, forestalling her objection, "I know you don't have much money, but since Karl and I own the building we live in, your rent can be part of your monthly salary. Karl and I will be conveniently located near you so you'll actually be able to function not only as a typist, but also as a sort of research assistant."
   I had been talking fast and off the top of my head, but now I paused to check Neda's reaction. She was so overwhelmed by me that resistance seemed impossible. I felt that somewhere in the past hour she had capitulated totally to the loving accepting thoughts I had been sending her. But then, how could a person languishing in hell turn down an invitation to heaven? I told her that I would help her move into her new quarters immediately.
   Fifteen minutes later we arrived at her home in a taxi. The house was a run-down two-story stucco located in a fast-decaying neighborhood. I told our taxi driver to wait for us and then accompanied Neda to her door. There she hesitated until I calmly, but firmly, opened the door for her and ushered her inside: I immediately realized why she had hesitated, since charging toward us out of the kitchen was the most formidable-looking old harridan I had ever seen. This was Neda's mother, who was roaring at Neda about being late and eyeing me suspiciously.
   After Neda tried to respond to her mother and got shouted down, I decided to lend a hand. I told Neda to go to her room and pack her belongings, then, with a gentle nudge, sent her on her way. I stopped her mother in mid-roar with a mighty PK shove that sent her reeling backwards to land with a thud on the couch.
   "Be quiet, Mrs. Cricksley," I said. "I want you to hear what I've got to say."
   Her mouth was open but no sound came out, and her eyes were enormous as she finally managed to gasp, "You pushed me!"
   "Really, Mrs. Cricksley," I replied, "you know that I didn't touch you. Now pay attention to me. I've offered your daughter a job as typist and research assistant to myself and my partner. We're doing psychological research at the university. I've asked her to take an apartment near the university so she'll be closer to her work. I'll advance her enough on her salary so that she can pay the rent and live quite comfortably. Now do you have any questions?"
   Mrs. Cricksley was obviously not used to being dominated and treated in such a confidently imperious manner. She opened and closed her mouth, for all the world like an ugly flounder that has just found itself beached. I decided to keep the pressure on before she could jump back into the water.
   "Of course," I continued, "this will relieve you of the considerable financial burden of caring for your daughter and providing her with an education. Naturally her salary will be sufficient, to comfortably cover the tuition for her remaining years of college."
   I had decided to go all the way. Since Karl and I had invested our inheritance in the apartment building we lived in, we had more than sufficient funds for our rather modest needs and could afford my project with Neda without too much difficulty.
   Mrs. Cricksley was shaking her head in a bewildered manner. Things were happening just too fast for her to comprehend. Was she really going to be able to unload that ugly blight of a daughter? she was thinking. I easily picked up her thoughts. However, it was painful for me to tune into the old woman's mind. There was no physical ugliness that could match the mental ugliness of her mind. It was a seething caldron of spite, greed, jealousy, and crawling hatreds. I withdrew my mind contact with a violent shudder of revulsion.
   At that moment Neda entered the room with all her worldly possessions in a small battered suitcase. When her mother protested the ownership of the suitcase I swiftly handed her a twenty-dollar bill saying that I was sure that this would amply repay her. She was still looking greedily at the bill in her hand when I took the suitcase from Neda and hurried her out of the house to the waiting taxi.
   Shortly over an hour later, having stopped off at a supermarket (a different one!) and purchased some forty dollars' worth of food, I was busily stocking the refrigerator of Neda's new apartment. It was a large three room apartment with bedroom, living room, and kitchen, and was nicely furnished. Neda walked about it in a happy daze. She kept saying, "I don't know what to say, and I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Lake."
   "Please call me Jon," I kept saying as I put away her groceries. "And remember, I live just one floor above you in apartment 303 in case you need anything. I'll have the phone connected tomorrow so you can call me any time.
   Neda came partially out of her daze and asked, "But when do I start to work and where?"
   "Tomorrow," I said, "you can start to work right here in your apartment. I'll come back this evening with my typewriter, which I'll leave with you. It's a little portable electric. Easy to use."
   Then I persuaded her to sit down with me in her comfortable new living room. For the next half-hour I encouraged her to talk about her writing and reassured her that she could continue, taking all the courses she wanted at the university, although I felt she looked upon her new job as an opportunity to drop her courses. All the while I was there, I kept up a steady flow of the most positive and confident telepathic messages. By the time I left her she was almost glowing with happiness and her face didn't look anywhere near as ugly as when I had first seen it.
   By the time I got back to my apartment, I was ready for a rest. All this practice of my new powers had taken its toll, and it felt good to sit down. After resting a few minutes I brought this journal up to date.
   When Karl came in I handed him my journal and headed for the kitchen to cook up a couple of steaks.
   I caught myself wishing for the mealtime conveniences of 2150.
   Since I had left Neda I had tuned in to her every fifteen or twenty minutes to give her another mental shot of loving acceptance and confidence. It seemed to be working well.
   Over dinner Karl, and I discussed my project with Neda and I solicited his help. He was perfectly agreeable to my wanting us to help her and said that he would be glad not to have to depend on the university typing pool any longer. I didn't reveal my long-range plans for Neda, which involved shaping an entirely new self-concept for her. I decided I would let Karl meet her and then we could talk further about my plans.
   About eight that evening Karl and I went, typewriter in hand, down to Neda's apartment. She welcomed us with a little shyness but talked rather easily with Karl about the typing requirements of our research. I let him do almost all the talking, and when we left, almost an hour later, I was congratulating myself on my progress with Neda. However, Karl brought me back to reality.
   "Really, Jon," he said when we were back in our apartment, "you weren't kidding when you said she was homely."
   "You weren't very impressed," I commented.
   Karl laughed and said, "I was impressed all right! Come on, Jon. She's probably a very nice person, but did you look at her? My God, she's a walking disaster area!"
   "Hmm," I responded. "You really think it's that bad, huh?"
   Karl shook his head. "You know, it seems to me that if you were going to buy her groceries and provide her with an apartment, you could have at least provided her with some decent clothes, too."
   "Yeah, I know, Karl," I agreed, "they're pretty bad. I wanted to fix her up with something better, but I don't know anything about women's clothes. I thought one of your girlfriends could help you pick out some nice things for you to give her."
   "You want me to do this?" Karl asked with a startled expression.
   "Of course," I explained, "the more positive male attention we can give her, the sooner we'll be able to change her self-concept from one of self-loathing to one of self-confidence."
   "But-but, Jon," Karl sputtered, "you can't give her a new face and figure, so it certainly isn't fair to kid her along."
   "I'm not kidding her," I answered. "She's a valuable and worthwhile person no matter how she looks, and I'm going to let her know that at least you and I think so."
   "Yeah, but what about other people?" Karl objected. "How are you going to help her adjust to the fact that everyone else will continue to view her as her old homely self? That's got to keep her self-concept a shambles for as long as she lives."
   "I think she can become physically attractive," I said. "After all, she wouldn't look so scrawny with another twenty pounds on her!"
   "Fifty would be more like it!" Karl replied "Why, she must be five feet eight but she looks like she might weigh 90 pounds if we got her good and wet. Even if she put on enough weight to curve her out, how are you going to hide that nose of hers?"
   "Hmm," I pondered, "you're right about her nose. But I'm sure a little plastic surgery would fix that up. We can afford it, can't we?"
   Karl gave me a startled look, and said, "Boy, you've really gone overboard! Sure, I guess we can afford it, Jon, but do you know what you're talking about? Do you have any idea how much this little project of yours is going to cost? Well, let me tell you... it's going to cost a pile!"
   "I couldn't find a better use for it, Karl," I said. "Besides, if I'm successful I won't need any money three months from now."
   "But if you're not successful," Karl grunted, "you'll have sure cleaned out your account."
   I laughed at Karl's gloomy expression. "Cheer up," I said. "If micro man can earn a million selfishly I'm sure that with the aid of my Macro powers I can earn a million unselfishly."
   "What other projects have you got in mind?" Karl asked a bit sarcastically.
   "I don't know for sure," I said. "Maybe I'd better see how this one comes out before I start another one."
   "That's a damned sound idea," Karl said with relief.
   We talked for a while more about 2150; then I said that I was eager to get back to C.I. and ask some more questions, especially about how I could work this miracle I had embarked upon', and retired early.

CHAPTER 12: The Fifty-Foot Leap

   I awakened to the gentle pressure of warm lips on mine and the sounds of our soul notes beginning to resonate in my mind. I responded eagerly and soon joined Carol in the ecstasy of physical and emental contact. These delights grew in awareness and intensity until the unifying joy of Macro immersion was ours.
   As we lay quietly, still happily entwined, I thought once again of how different my sexual experiences with Carol had been from those of my micro past. Before Carol and my Macro immersions, I had always felt either guilty or fearful, or simply unfulfilled by my sexual experiences. I wondered if anyone had ever attained Macro immersion before the Macro society.
   "It was very rare," Carol answered my thought, "and most of them took place between twin souls."
   "Since twin souls rarely incarnate together," I said, "that goes a long way toward explaining the sexual frustrations of micro man."
   "Sexual relationships which do not attain Macro immersion are only of fleeting satisfaction," Carol explained.
   "Wait a minute," I said. "That means that the vast majority of sexual relationships, prior to the Macro society, have not been fulfilling."
   "That's right," Carol nodded. "They usually left the participants with a strong underlying desire to start over again, since their true longing was unfulfilled."
   "Then you're saying that any sexual relationship between you and me that does not reach Macro immersion would be unfulfilling."
   "That's right," Carol replied. "Now you can appreciate how unselfish the other girls of our Alpha were being when they agreed to have a sexual relationship with you if you so desired."
   "They knew," I said, "that their soul notes were too dissimilar from mine to attain Macro immersion, yet to help me learn this they were willing to experience an unsatisfying union."
   "However," Carol added, "to the extent that you give unselfishly of yourself to another it cannot be an unpleasant experience."
   I shook my head. "That explains it... that's why micro man experiences so much guilt, anxiety, and frustration associated with sex," I said. "He almost always uses sex for his own selfish purposes, so the result is bound to be something less than complete fulfillment."
   "That's right," Carol responded, "and even the micro view that sex is sanctified if it is used only for the purpose of creating children is false, because micro man views his children as possessions, thus, uses them for selfish purposes."
   "Not the least of which must be micro man's hope for immortality through his children," I reasoned.
   "Yes." Carol smiled. "Man, for centuries, pursued what he called immortality-that celestial heaven where his eternity of days would be spent floating from cloud to cloud with a harp in his hand and a blissful smile on his face. He just had not yet evolved far enough along the m-M continuum to remember his past lives, and if man can't remember his past lives he can't be expected to understand the true concept of immortality. It would be like expecting a person who has been blind since birth to understand the color yellow.
   "Many of your religions compounded this problem," she continued. "Any religion that denies the human soul its immortal past is going to have difficulty teaching an immortal future. "
   I thought about that for a bit then said, "I can see where that's one of the big problems of Christianity."
   "That's right," Carol agreed. "Any religion that depends on a priesthood for its truths is micro. Macro man learns truths by using his power of retro cognition to read the universal akashic records which contain a full account of everything that ever happened."
   "You mean," I questioned, "if your personal akashic record of your own past doesn't include something, you can check a universal akashic record that does?"
   "Yes," she explained, "it's like a universal C.I. that has a videotape of everything that has ever happened."
   "Then you wouldn't have to be dependent on anyone else's interpretation of anything," I said. "Instead of arguing about what Lao-tzu, Gautama, or Jesus said or didn't say, you could just check the universal akashic records and both see and hear every event in their lives."
   Carol nodded and said, "Exactly. We've done this with all the great philosophers of history."
   "My God, that sounds fascinating! Could you show me how to do that, Carol? Maybe today?" I asked, eager to tap this incredible new resource.
   "It's up to you, Jon. I should warn you, though, that while using the akashic records is a great educational technique, it is not of much use in attaining greater Macro awareness. That can only be achieved by tapping the same source of all wisdom-love that the great Macro philosophers of all time have tapped-the macrocosm or universal mind-then practicing, through application in your daily life, what you learned from that contact."
   I was disappointed to hear that this marvelous new experience which I was so eager to embark upon would not help me reach my goal of level-three awareness. It was with reluctance that I decided I could not afford to take the time to learn this new skill until after I reached my more important goal,
   Carol sensed my conflict and, after a telepathic reassurance that she felt my decision was a wise one, she invited me to share an invigorating bath with her before joining the rest of our Alpha for breakfast.
   After breakfast Carol suggested that I could use C.I. in our room while she used the one at the center. I told her I would rather walk to the center and enjoy the beautiful lake, the trees, and the flowers under the clear blue sky of this unpolluted world.
   "I can read about your polluted world," she said, "and I can see and hear video tapes of it in all its grimness, but only when I remember my past life during that period can I truly appreciate the beauty of our world."
   "Hey, that's right. You lived your most recent past life in the 20th century, didn't you? You said you died in the 1990s," I recalled.
   "Yes," she replied, "in the 1970s I was a student. I took every opportunity to protest the criminal contamination of our planet. In spite of popular protests, the vested interests had their way till the pollution of the '80s made that of the '70s look very mild indeed."
   "Then it just got worse and worse," I said, "and nothing was done to correct it?"
   "Oh, lots of little things were done," she responded, "but it was too late for half-way measures. It would have required world-wide cooperation through a world-wide government, but this was impossible for micro man with his micro philosophy of life. Unified world government requires a Macro view with equal concern for the health, safety, and well-being of all mankind. Micro man was not willing to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve this goal."
   "I guess," I said, "I'm using a micro perspective when I feel sorry for micro man's suffering and miserable death. I know that it was the only way he could learn the consequences of his selfish micro ways, but I still feel remorse about the tragic deaths."
   Carol responded saying, "Micro man had to perish so that Macro man could be born. Death is only bad when it is taken out of the context of the soul evolution and the cumulative Macro effect."
   As we talked we had left our Gamma building and were walking beside the lake toward the center when suddenly I stopped and pointed at a figure on the lake.
   "Look, Carol!" I said, surprised, "Is that really someone walking on the. lake?"
   "Yes," she replied. "It's probably a level eight or nine practicing levitation."
   "Why not a level ten?" I asked.
   "Because," Carol answered, "they don't have to practice."
   The figure had been too distant for me to get a close look at levitation, and it soon disappeared into the water.
   "I guess whoever it was got tired," I postulated, "and is now taking a bit of a swim!"
   "Maybe," Carol replied, "or maybe swimming just looked like it might be a little more fun. Why don't we do a little practicing ourselves, then you can learn to levitate, too."
   With these words Carol leaped into the air and floated about three feet above the ground for almost ten seconds before descending gently to the earth.
   "I didn't realize that you were that advanced," I said. "What sort of thought did' you use?"
   "I just visualized myself floating in the air," she replied.
   "Hmm," I murmured. "I guess I can at least try it out." I did and almost immediately landed back on the ground.
   Carol picked up my puzzlement and answered, "You forgot to raise your vibrations by recalling Macro con– tact-your macrocosmic oneness with all."
   I followed her suggestion until I felt joyously calm and very buoyant. Then I visualized myself about six feet off the ground and easily leaped to this height. I stayed up for almost five seconds before the fatigue overcame me, then started to come down gently but ran out of PK about two feet from the ground and landed with a thud.
   I was thrilled with my unbelievable success. I mean, just think of it-me, Jon Lake-levitating. Wow!
   I decided that I could just as easily visualize myself at thirty feet off the ground or even higher, if I was willing to come back down right away. However, I was tired from my first effort and postponed any further attempts until I was completely rested.
   "I'll bet I could set a clew world high jump record back in 1976 if I wanted to," I observed. "By golly, I'd be right in time for the Olympics, too!"
   Carol replied, "A new world record in pole vaulting, too, and you wouldn't even have to use the pole! However, micro man gets pretty frightened of anyone who does things too far out of the ordinary, so I suggest you be careful."
   "Yeah," I said, "and when micro man is frightened, look out. I wouldn't want to be locked up as a freak, or a national defense resource."
   Carol nodded. "Micro man does have a tendency to hate anyone who makes him feel inferior. That's why our visits to Micro Island are so dangerous for those who do not have pretty well-developed Macro powers."
   "Speaking of Micro Island," I said, "I want to visit there as soon as you feel our combined Macro powers will protect us."
   "All right," Carol answered as we reached my C.I. room. "I'll tell you when I think we're ready."
   Then she squeezed my hand affectionately and said, "See you at lunch," and was gone down the long corridor.
   As soon as I was seated in my favorite C.I. room overlooking the lake, I began asking C.I. questions about the uses of Macro powers to help micro man. Over and over C.I. kept telling me that no one can be helped until they are both willing and ready. This was the same as having sufficient desire and a belief, she said.
   When I asked specifically how I could help Neda I learned that PK could be used to affect the seven gland centers of the body and, thereby, cause changes in physical appearance.
   I spent the rest of the morning studying diagrams of the glandular system and learning all I could about how to use PK to change Neda's physical appearance to one of greater attractiveness. It seemed overwhelmingly complex and difficult to understand at first, but C.I. was the greatest resource ever, with an unending supply of patience. By noon I felt hopeful about my chances of changing Neda's appearance for the better.
   When Carol joined me we took our CN's with water, then walked toward the recreation areas. On the way we practiced our PK with pebbles again and I told Carol about my hopes for Neda back in 1976. She agreed this would be a good application of my growing Macro powers.
   As I was about to take my next step I stopped in midstride, for there before me, basking itself in a pool of sunshine, was a snake about six feet long. Carol obviously hadn't seen it, for she was about to walk on. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me.
   She looked at me with surprise, then, remembering how new I was at all this, reassured me, saying, "It's all right, Jon. I'm not afraid; therefore, the snake won't harm me."
   Carol took my hand and I, somewhat reluctantly, permitted her to lead me closer until I had a clear view of the rattles on its tail. I stopped and said, "Maybe a rattlesnake won't harm you, Carol, because you're not afraid, but I, for one, am damned scared!"
   "Then stay here," Carol suggested, "and I'll show you something."
   With these words she walked up to what looked to me like a deadly rattlesnake, bent over and, putting her hands underneath it, gently lifted it in her arms and began walking toward me. My mouth was dry, sweat seemed to be spurting out of every pore of my body, my heart pounded under the impact of more adrenaline than my system could handle. There was no doubt in my mind that snakes had always frightened me, and this one in Carol's arms was no exception. Then for the first time I heard the ominous rattle begin and saw the snake's head jerk back in striking position, its eyes fastened with deadly menace upon me.
   "No closer, Carol, please," I stammered, backing away.
   She stopped and began talking soothingly to the by now intensely angry snake in her arms. Surprisingly, in a very few seconds the sound of the frantic rattling ceased and I could see the snake's tightly coiled body beginning to relax. As I watched this seeming miracle unfold before me I realized that once Carol had picked the snake up I had been convinced that no harm would come to her even when the deadly reptile was at its angriest. My fear had all been for myself. I was filled with shame and embarrassment.
   "I don't blame you for being afraid," Carol said. "Obviously you've suffered great pain and anguish, possibly death, from contact with snakes in past lives. The fear generated then was so powerful that it has stayed with you."
   "I can believe that," I replied, "because as far back as I can remember I've always been afraid of snakes. Obviously this one recognized my fear and responded to it."
   "That's right, Jon," she agreed. "No animal can attack a person who is demonstrating Macro love."
   "Okay," I acknowledged, "Macro man isn't afraid, but obviously I'm not very Macro in this area. Is there anything I can do about it?"
   "Sure," Carol answered. "Since you have already experienced Macro contact you have only to remember it sufficiently to have all fear removed from your mind. You can't be afraid of yourself!"
   I was skeptical of this answer, and in the end it was only because of my telepathic contact with Carol that I succeeded in perfecting the recall. Then we maintained a very strong telepathic bond which continued to support our Macro contact memory, as, after almost forty-five minutes, I was finally able to approach the snake, touch it, and even hold it in my hands. It was, of course, my own doubt that caused me to have such difficulty.
   We placed the snake back in his sunning spot and continued our walk. I asked Carol if she thought I was cured of my fear of snakes. She laughed and told me that it wasn't all that easy, but having experienced such a successful confrontation with my phobia, the fear would be greatly diminished. If I practiced for a while, dealing with it as we had, it would soon be gone. I had to admit that I had never imagined it would be possible for me to hold a live poisonous snake in my hands without fear. Then I asked Carol about other wild animals.
   She told me that during the planetary pollution and overpopulation crisis, many types of animal life had died off. However, the early Macro society had preserved as many species as it could. Now, most animal life had made a remarkable comeback from almost complete extinction, for man had finally ended his relentless destruction of them and their food chain. I was pleased to hear that even the great cats such as the leopard, tiger, and lion had survived.
   "But what will you do if they become too numerous?" I asked.
   "Oh," she said, "we control the total ecological balance of our planet, not by killing, but by maintaining a balance of nature so that no species overbreeds for very long."
   "Speaking of overpopulation," I said, "you know, I'm really surprised that I haven't seen more people during our walks to the center and to the recreation areas. Why is this?"
   "We don't need to crowd each other," Carol replied, "because we're not afraid of being alone. With telepathy we need never be alone, and we need never invade the mental or physical privacy of others without their consent.
   Besides, you haven't seen much of our Delta-only the student Gamma area."
   "That's true," I agreed, "although on my first visit I wandered for some time through your gardens and woods, yet Lea was the only person I saw."
   "Don't forget," Carol reminded me, "each Delta has 100 square miles of living space devoted mostly to wooded parkland. Ten thousand people can live very uncrowded lives in our Deltas if they live them in a Macro fashion."
   "Someday," I said, "I must walk all around the lake and see all the other Gamma buildings."
   "Why don't we do it now?" Carol asked.
   "Well," I answered, "if I remember correctly, the lake is five miles long and two miles wide, so from where we are now it would be a rather long walk-over fifteen miles -and I wanted to join Neal and Jean today."
   "We can do both," Carol replied. "We'll just run most of the way using Macro contact energy."
   "You mean," I asked, "every time we get tired we recall our last Macro contact and renew our energy supply while at the same time washing away our fatigue?"
   "Well, sort of," she answered. "What we'll do is maintain a constant Macro contact memory which will allow us to use a little PK to run very lightly and fast. Imagine your body weighing only a few pounds and then imagine that the force of gravity is much less-only about one tenth its usual force."
   At first all this seemed complicated and I had a lot of difficulty believing it was possible. I got off to a mighty funny-looking start, but after we got going I was able, through our telepathic contact, to see how Carol was using her mind. Then by the same telepathic bond that had finally enabled me to overcome my fear of the snake, I learned how to run as I had seen Lea run on my first visit to 2150.
   For a person who has always loved running, this experience of almost flying through the air as we bounded along with the stride of a colossus interrupted with occasional leaps of pure delight that must have covered at least fifty feet was the ultimate in physical expression. Our speed varied as we passed such points of interest as the other Gamma buildings, for then we would slow our pace so that we could look around. I was seeing more people than ever before.
   We wove our way around the Gamma buildings. First we ran along the lake shore admiring the lovely stretches of sandy beaches on which many of the handsome members of the Macro society were playing and swimming nude in the sunshine. They sent us telepathic greetings and welcomed me to 2150. Then we ran past the shrubbery and flower gardens through the parklands behind the Gammas until we came to large vegetable gardens that were maintained by each Gamma.
   Still we saw relatively few people. Even when we passed the large Gamma buildings which I knew housed a thousand people there would only be a handful of people outside around them. It was only when we came to the large recreation areas, which seemed to be shared by two Gammas, that we saw more people. Even here there were no large crowds, hardly more than a hundred people in any one of the huge recreation areas. I was pleased that from a planet which had almost died from overcrowding, Macro man had truly reestablished a balanced population. And yet, ironically, micro man's ideal of the single-family house had been given up completely.
   When we came to the administration building at the end of the lake I realized that I must have run at least six miles, yet I didn't feel at all tired-more exhilarated than anything else.
   I appreciated the rows of tall trees surrounding this building. Then I saw, coming out of its central entrance, the smallest man I had yet encountered in 2150. He was no more than six feet tall, and as we approached him I noticed signs of aging. Rana had looked 45, but this man looked at least 55. As we stopped before him, Carol took his left hand and greeted him affectionately.
   He then greeted me in this traditional manner saying, "Welcome to Delta 927. I'm Hugo, your Deltar."
   I liked him immediately and was not surprised that the Delta had chosen him as their leader, for he had tremendous warmth and quiet strength: "Thank you," I said, "I can't tell you how happy I am to be here."
   Carol told him of our journey around the Delta lake, then he answered my unspoken question about his age.
   "I have had 197 years," he explained. "I was born in Brazil in 1953. Yes, I could look younger, but I grew up in a time when people aged and, since I shall soon evolate, I have permitted myself to age also."
   "You mean you're planning on dying?" I asked with surprise. I remembered that C.I. had once told me that when Macro society members decide that they have learned all they can in any particular incarnation, they break the connection between their astral and physical bodies, causing the latter to die, while the soul is then free to evolve to the next level on the m-M continuum. They called this process evolation.
   Suicide meant running away from the past; evolation– contraction of evolve and graduation-meant embracing the future.
   "Yes, I want to join my twin souls in another dimension," he answered. "Besides, I've accomplished all I can in this lifetime, so it's time to move on."
   He laughed at my uncertain expression and continued, saying, "You don't need to worry, Jon. I'm not planning on evolating immediately. In fact, it will be some months yet before my successor is chosen, and, of course, I couldn't leave until the new Deltar is ready to take over."
   I told him that I hoped I would see him again in this life. Then we continued our run.
   Along the other side of the lake I noticed that there were more people swimming and playing on the beaches. Carol explained that mid-afternoon was the favorite time for outdoor recreation. She asked if I wanted to speed up our journey in order to join Neal and Jean sooner.
   I replied, "How much faster can we run?"
   "Lots faster," she replied. "Just think lightly and swiftly."
   We did and veered from the lakeshore to the less populated park area behind the Gammas. Our running soon became very close to a form of low flying. I don't know how fast we were going, but in an incredibly short time we had completed the full circle of the lake and arrived at the third triad's recreation area. Less than an hour had passed since we started our run and, while I now felt some fatigue, I was not at all uncomfortable. In fact, after waiting a few minutes while Neal and Jean finished playing soccer, we resumed our tennis game-this time with the stipulation that the first set would be played without the use of PK.
   Without PK Jean and I won the first set, but just barely. Then, in the next two sets, in which we used our PK, I was pleased that while we lost, it was much closer than it had been the day before. I was making progress even faster than I had hoped.
   After tennis we again took a dip followed by a fascinating and very complex game, similar to three-dimensional chess, which was played as a team sport. Because of my inexperience in this game Carol and I played the two children, and again I was amazed at the remarkable intelligence of these two 7-year-olds. They beat us three straight games, but at least by the last game I was catching on to some of its intricate complexities and we came very close to winning.
   Then it was time to return to our Gammas and our individual Alphas for the Macro dance. Again we were running, but this time with Jean by my side and Neal just ahead of Carol. Never had I seen children run so swiftly. I was sure that these 7-year-olds could easily break every track record of my 20th century. We waved goodbye at the entrance to our Gamma, and as we made our way to our respective Alphas there were telepathic reminders of what we would do together tomorrow:
   Back in our Alpha I was soon engaged for the second time in the energetic and delightful combination of ballet, folk dancing, and gymnastics called the Macro dance. The exciting musical accompaniment was supplied by C.I. through a speaker system so designed that the music seemed to emanate equally from all parts of the room. With my growing telepathic skills I was able to keep up with more of the flashing ins and outs and other dazzlingly swift interactions of the others in the room. I was no longer surprised to find Joyce on my shoulders or Alan throwing me in the air, or the tumbling over and under each other that occurred so regularly. Utilizing our telepathic bond I knew what was coming and was more or less prepared to accept what I had at first thought were impossible physical gyrations for the human body.
   While my first experience with the Macro dance had left me bewildered and doubting the evidence presented by my own eyes, I was now prepared to accept the Macro powers as non-miraculous, though thrilling and surprising. However, the day's demands on my PK had been strenuous, so after about fifteen minutes I found myself very tired and grateful that my Alpha had ended the dancing early in deference to my fatigue.
   I was soon floating comfortably in our Beta swimming pool perfectly content to just watch the energetic water activities of the other 99 members of my Beta. There was no doubt in my mind that I was viewing the greatest athletes the human race had ever produced, and I Was sure that my comrades had reached the limits of, physical grace, dexterity, and superhuman stamina. A few couples were playfully making love as they enjoyed the rhythm of the moving waters supporting their united bodies. Carol dove underwater and as her wet breasts found their way up my thighs to my chest her legs wrapped around me and we joined together joyously. Appreciating the uninhibited joy of love expressed openly and freely, I made a mental note to apologize to Karl and Cindy.
   Before we left the pool, Leo our Betar, organized a type of water ballet, a game that was breathtaking to watch.
   I vowed that tomorrow I would become a part of this activity, too.
   After dinner I listened to my Alpha do some magnificent singing and discovered that Nancy and Steve had voices that would have been the envy of our greatest opera singers of the 20th century. To provide musical accompaniment they merely had to ask C.I. to give them whatever they wished in the line of music, since C.I. had recordings of every imaginable kind. Carol explained to me that they ended most evening meals with song, and it was only because of my arrival and our lengthy conversations that I had not heard them sing until tonight.
   I could have listened to them sing all night and even discovered I was able, with the aid of telepathy, to join in some of the songs. However, long before I was ready to end it, Alan was saying that it was time for tutoring and I was leaving for my visit with Rana. I was pleased that we would be meeting with her this evening since I planned to ask her to use all her Macro power to help me attain my third Macro contact.
   Rana immediately picked up this intention of mine, or perhaps she had precognitively anticipated it, because she asked me how I thought she could help me attain Macro contact.
   "Well I-I-don't know," I answered, feeling rather surprised at her question. "But, after all, you are a level ten and if anyone should know how to help me, you should."
   "Yes," Rana replied, "but last time we met I told you that it is desire and belief that determine all things. No one can give you these two essentials."
   "All right," I said, "but I thought if I could establish a strong telepathic bond with you, that when you establish Macro contact I would be able to make it more easily myself."
   Rana shook her head. "It won't work with you and me because our soul notes are too dissimilar. However, it might work with Lea if you could completely eliminate all resistance. But, once again, we're back to desire and belief.
   Even telepathically connected to Lea you would fail to attain Macro contact if you didn't have sufficient desire and belief. What's more, you would then interfere with your twin soul attaining Macro contact. Of course, since Lea has been using her Macro powers to maintain your time-space translation she has not been able to attain Macro contact at all."
   Perceiving my thoughts Rana said, "No, Jon, there is no easy way. At least none that I know of, and I spent many lifetimes looking for them rather than accepting the responsibility for my own personal growth or lack thereof."
   I didn't remember much of what happened during the rest of our meeting with Rana. I was a little embarrassed and more than a little disappointed.
   Later that evening as I was ready to go to sleep I realized that ever since Rana had told me that she couldn't help me the way I wanted to be helped I had been in a fog of depression. Carol, of course, picked up on this and said something about all depression being the product of repression.
   I wasn't really listening very closely for my mind was again wrestling with the seemingly impossible task of attaining level three in just three months.
   Once again I failed to attain Macro contact, which so frustrated me that I then failed at attaining Macro immersion.
   I lay awake for a long time thinking of my failures and the task before me.

CHAPTER 13: LOSS

   I haven't written in this journal for almost two months. During this period my life has been filled with more failures and successes than in all my previous years put together. I was going to say that I have been too busy to write it all down, but I know that's only partially true. The truth is that I didn't want to write down all my failures, only my successes. Unfortunately, my conscience wouldn't let me write about one without mentioning the other. Finally this same conscience insisted that I bring this journal up to date. With only a month left to attain level-three awareness it should prove helpful to me to review the past two months.
   My problems, just like everyone else's, have been caused by my refusal to accept the macrocosmic truth that all failure leads to success and that all success leads to failure-that is, to another lesson we have not yet learned. So I'll begin with a success that became a failure.
   It has to do with my relationship with Neda and my desire to change her life from unloved ugliness to at least a minimum of enjoyable attractiveness.
   I had Karl, with the help of one of his girlfriends, buy Neda some new clothes and provide her with enough of our research data to keep her busy typing. Meanwhile, I worked on her with the Macro powers of telepathy and PK.
   I continued to bombard her mind with positive accepting thoughts which kept her happy and hopeful regarding the future. In fact, during the first month of my Neda project I spent almost all my waking hours in 1976 focusing my mind on her; not only sending positive reinforcing thoughts, but also suggestions as to what she should eat, what exercises she should perform. I was determined to improve her physical appearance as soon as possible, and I knew PK, the power used in all healing, could not be expected to do all the work needed.
   I was pleasantly surprised, though, at how much PK could accomplish if carefully directed and applied to the gland and nerve centers of the body. I spent some part of every day back in 2150 learning from C.I. the seemingly miraculous emental healing and growth principles discovered by Macro society research.
   I learned that the mind and the emotions direct the formation of our physical body and all the changes that occur within it. C.I. described this process as an automatic reflex called the cellular response, with every cell of our being faithfully playing the part prescribed for it by our mind and emotions.
   With the help of C.I. and this new information I began to use my growing PK power, my mind, and my emotions to change Neda's physical structure and to stimulate within her a joyous cellular response. This created an inner beauty while PK created the outer beauty.
   My progress at first was extremely slow, and I was becoming discouraged and doubtful that even three months would be enough to make any significant changes in Neda's facial appearance. But then, toward the end of the fourth week, I developed the clairvoyant ability to see not only her aura but all seven glandular systems and every nerve network in her body. Now I could see clearly how to direct my PK force and also the immediate results of my efforts. From that day on, my progress became so rapid that Karl went around shaking his head and muttering to himself. By the end of the fifth week I was finished with the physical transformation of Neda.
   She had been five feet eight inches tall. She was now five feet ten. She had weighed 105 pounds. Now she weighed 150 pounds of sensational curvaceous female flesh. I had modeled her as a composite of Lea, Carol, and Diane of my Alpha. While I could not quite reach their perfection, I had succeeded beyond my most optimistic hopes. As for Karl, my success was almost too much. A couple of evenings after I had completed my work with Neda, he came back from one of his ever-longer visits to her apartment demanding a talk with me.
   "I have no more doubts about your incredible Macro powers or about your Macro society of 2150, but do you really know what you've done to Neda?"
   "What do you mean?" I asked. "You know what I've done. I've taken a physical and psychological disaster and turned it into a victory for beauty and tranquillity."
   "As for her physical beauty," Karl replied, "I could not possibly have any complaints. My God, how you managed to change that face, nose and all, into this delicately lovely one I'll never be able to comprehend. She's a pure joy to look at. I have to drag myself away from her." Having picked up his thoughts, I broke in, "But you're not happy with her psychological transformation."
   Karl gave me a long questioning look before saying, "I don't understand you, Jon. Don't you realize that she is not only your physical creation but also your mental one? She thinks only what you want her to think, and you won't permit her a very wide range of thoughts. For instance, you deny her the right to have any doubts or concerns about the future."
   "Wait a minute,, Karl," I interrupted. "What's wrong with helping her feel confident about her future?"
   "Damnation, Joni" He exploded. "She's not a puppet, even though you seem to think you're her puppet master. She has a right to develop her own strength by making her own mistakes.
   "You're like the over-possessive parent who won't permit his child to make any mistakes-all so the parent won't have to feel uncomfortable. And what's the result? You know as well as I that when a child isn't permitted to learn how to cope with the problems of this micro world he becomes angrily dependent on the parent and totally lacking in self-esteem. Good Lord, Jon. After all our months of research, nobody knows that better than we do!
   "You rescued her from one stinking, lousy, miserable parent relationship and put her right back into another, with you as the parent!"
   At first I was hurt and angry that Karl couldn't appreciate my great and unselfish work with Neda. I sent a telepathic command to Neda to come to our apartment so that she could help me refute Karl's accusation. By this time I had so attuned Neda's mind to mine that I was confident she would soon be with us. My one disappointment was that I had not been able to develop any Macro powers in Neda, for while she would respond to my telepathic suggestions she didn't recognize them as coming from me, so true telepathic communication between us had been impossible.
   As I waited for Neda to join us I tried to be as fair as I could in considering Karl's accusation. It was possible, I thought, that perhaps I had gone a little too far with my desire to protect Neda from unhappiness. But surely I wasn't treating her like a puppet. I felt that this accusation was over-dramatized and exaggerated. Particularly after all I had done for Neda. I decided to tell Karl about some of my other selfless Macro activities.
   "Karl," I said, "last week I went to our university hospital and successfully practiced my PK healing powers on two cases of terminal cancer. Unaware of my efforts, they underwent surgery-mostly because they would rather take the chance of dying swiftly under the surgeon's knife than slowly under the attack of cancer. Guess what? Two miraculous. recoveries. However, some of the skeptical medics are now claiming that their tests must have been wrong because no one could completely recover from that much cancer so soon."
   Karl shook his head slowly and gave me a weary smile. "You're trying to convince me that you only do good for others. I suppose you feel there is no disease you can't cure with your Macro powers."
   "You're right, Karl," I said. "I've walked through every ward in that hospital and have healed dozens of the most challenging cases. Why in just a few minutes I completely healed a patient who had been shot through a lung and a kidney just the night before. He was dying when I found him waiting for surgery. I almost completely healed cases of diabetes, tuberculosis, arthritis, pneumonia, epilepsy, heart disease, multiple sclerosis, syphilis, cerebral palsy, and kidney malfunction as well as an impressive list of fractures."
   "Okay, okay," Karl injected, "I believe you, but Neda has been standing here in our doorway and I think we ought to invite her in."
   Karl walked over to Neda – and invited her to come in. Then he asked if she had come up to get more material to type.
   "Oh, no," she replied, "I've got plenty to keep me busy. After all, you run down to bring me more material every hour or so, so I'm pretty well supplied for the rest of the week."
   "Yes," I laughed, "I think dear old Karl here has developed a passion..." I paused and then continued "... for getting out at least three or four books full of material on our research."
   Karl looked a little flustered as he said, "You know we were terribly backed up on our typing, and I've really enjoyed having the services of a full-time typist."
   I laughed again. "I've noticed your growing enjoyment and I've got to admit that I've rarely seen you so filled with joy as you have been during the past few days."
   "Yes, well, I-I..." Karl began lamely, then looked at Neda and forgot what he was going to say.
   "You wanted to ask her," I prompted, "why she had come up here."
   "Oh, yes," Karl nodded gratefully, "that's right, Neda. Is there something we can help you with?"
   "Oh, no," Neda answered, flashing her now lovely smile which revealed the stunning white perfection of the new teeth I had molded for her. "It was just that I suddenly got the feeling that Jon wanted to talk to me."
   "Oh, you did, huh," Karl said, giving me a suspicious look. "You were just suddenly overwhelmed with this idea in the midst of your typing."
   "That's right, Karl," Neda replied with another dazzling smile. "I couldn't concentrate on my typing and felt I just had to come up here and see what Jon wanted."
   "Okay, Svengali," Karl said, glaring at me, "I want to thank you for providing the evidence to support my earlier comments. At least you can now remember a past lifetime as a slave master, so we know where you got the practice!"
   "Now, Karl," I said, "that isn't fair. I just wanted Neda to tell you in her own words how she feels about her new life."
   "Oh, Jon," Neda exclaimed, "you know I never dreamed I could be so happy. In fact, it's all so impossible -my new appearance-my new life with you and Karl. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not all a dream which will end with my waking up as the ugly creature in that nightmare life I lived before we met."
   "Well," Karl replied, "if you're so happy, Neda, why is it that you haven't once left this apartment building since you came here? Why did you stop attending classes? You've just about resigned from the human race."
   "But I haven't wanted to go out," Neda answered. "You and Jon have brought me everything I've needed. As for my classes, I thought my work on your research was much more educational and important right now."
   "After all, Karl," I added, "it was you who kept loading her down with enough work to keep her busy twenty-four hours a day."
   "Okay," Karl nodded, "I apologize for that, and I'll admit to you both that most of the time when I was bringing you all that work, Neda, I just wanted to see you. I never saw anyone as beautiful as you've become. I just couldn't stay away. But now that I've admitted this, you won't feel like you have to type all the time. You can go out and get some exercise."
   "But I get lots of exercise," Neda replied. "Especially since Jon bought me all of that exercise equipment and encouraged me to use it regularly."
   "Yeah, I know," Karl said, "but Neda, don't you have any desire to see somebody besides Jon and me?"
   "Are you saying I should want to see others?" she asked. "Because if you and Jon want me to go out and see other people, I'll be glad to."
   "Oh, God," Karl groaned. "Do you hear that, Jon? She doesn't have any desire except to do what we tell her to do, and that's mostly what you tell her to do either telepathically or in words:"
   Suddenly I felt a chill run through my body. "Neda," I said, "I may have to go away and never be able to return, so what would you do then?"
   Karl and I watched her beautiful face slowly congeal in fear, and we recognized the light of terror well up in her eyes. She began shaking her head and moaning her disbelief piteously while I watched Karl cast an accusing glare at me as he took her in his arms and murmured soft reassurances to her. Great tears dotted her ebony cheeks and she shook her head back and forth refusing to consider the possibility that I might someday leave her life.
   I tried to send her positive happy thoughts but my mind seemed to have become numb, and I slowly realized that my telepathic contact with her was futile-I was too upset to be able to control my mind. I kept thinking over and over-what have I done? What have I done?
   It was some time before Karl and I could sufficiently reassure Neda so that Karl could take her comfortably back to her apartment. By the time Karl returned, almost an hour later, I had done some hard thinking and come to some painful conclusions. The first thing Karl said was that he wanted to talk to me some more.
   "And I want to talk to you, Karl," I replied. "I realize now that what you were saying about my being a puppet master or slave master was true. I couldn't stand the thought of failing to make Neda happy, so I took over almost complete control of her mind. I-I didn't realize until this evening how completely dependent upon me she had become. No, not how dependent upon me she had become. Rather, how dependent upon me I had made her!"
   Karl shook his head slowly. "You were having fun playing God," he said. "You know the old saying that power corrupts. According to your account of 2150, power doesn't corrupt Macro man, but it sure as hell corrupts micro man, and that's us, Jon-you and me."
   "Yes," I nodded, "and while I have developed some Macro powers, I haven't learned to use them unselfishly. Rana warned me that if I used my new powers selfishly. I would make myself very unhappy. I was sure that I had nothing to fear since I was using them unselfishly, or so I thought. Now I know what she meant."
   "Then do you realize," Karl questioned, "that you were bragging when you told me about all those people you had healed at the hospital? Do you realize that you were predominantly serving your pride, not people?"
   I nodded my head in painful admission, and said, "There's another ancient bit of wisdom that says that anyone who exalts himself shall be humbled."
   "Okay," Karl said. "I'm sure that if I'd suddenly developed Macro powers, I'd have misused them too. I'd probably have wiped out half the world's population by now, especially those bastards who know they're polluting our planet but just keep right on doing it to pad their own micro pockets. I probably wouldn't even have healed people out of pride-I'd have killed them out of hatred. But our problem now is to undo the damage you've done to Neda."
   "I'm sorry as hell," I apologized. "I had no intention whatever of hurting her." Then, thinking it over, I added, "I could be dangerous, Karl."
   "I'm not worried about that, Jon. Let's just get Neda back in shape before you go on to any more projects."
   In the next few days I worked to teach Neda the principles of Macro philosophy. I was pleased to see how quickly she learned to grasp the concept, for I knew that if she could see herself and others through a Macro perspective, she could not be fearful, lonely, or dissatisfied with any experience.
   After a week as her Personal Evolution tutor, I gave her this journal to read. I had talked it over with Karl beforehand and, while he, at first, was opposed to introducing her so quickly to the strange concepts presented here, he finally agreed to it on the basis that we didn't want to be over-protective. Our decision was vindicated by the enthusiastic reception Neda gave to the concept of the Macro society and by her acceptance of my desire to leave the world of 1976 and become a life-long member of the Macro society of the future.
   While the Macro philosophy and P.E. tutoring helped Neda, the severance of our unhealthy dependency relationship would have taken much longer to complete if Karl had not fallen so completely in love with her. He devoted almost every waking moment that he wasn't teaching to being with her. It was he who got her out of the apartment and introduced her to the world of dating. However, he wasn't successful in getting her to return to her classes for the very good reason that the girl who was a university junior and had enrolled in courses under the name of Neda Cricksley no longer existed.
   It was at this time that Karl came into our room one evening after a date with Neda and told me that he didn't know what to do about the legal problem of Neda's identity.
   "What are you talking about?" I asked.
   "Well," Karl answered, "we couldn't get her back into her old classes because her professors and classmates would never recognize her or accept her as Neda Cricksley. We thought of enrolling her under a fictitious name for the next semester, but we finally realized that they won't accept her without past school records, and we haven't been able to figure out how we can come up with acceptable fake records for her."
   "Well," I said, "I am sure you can figure out something. It doesn't sound too difficult."
   "Yeah," Karl said, giving me his crooked grin, "I haven't told you all of it yet. Seems Neda's mother called the university and found out that Neda stopped attending her classes and that the psychology department has no record of her doing any typing work for any of their research."
   "How did you find that out?" I asked.
   "There was a notice on our department bulletin board," Karl explained, "listing her as a missing person and requesting that anyone who knows anything about her whereabouts get in touch with the campus police."
   "Hmm," I said, "maybe I'd better call her mother and get it all straightened out."
   Karl shook his head. "I wouldn't advise it," he said. "I talked it over with Neda and she thinks her mother is looking for her to get money from her now that she has a job. She'll want to see her, and we can't produce the body of Neda Cricksley, that's for sure!"
   "In other words," I said, "you think the mother will charge me with kidnapping-possibly murder."
   "Exactly," Karl nodded, "and neither she, the policemen, nor the jury that convicts you is going to believe your story, although it may help you cop a plea of insanity."
   For the next couple of hours we argued about the necessity of talking with Mrs. Cricksley. Karl was strongly opposed to this and kept trying to sell me on the idea of finding a new identity for Neda and just letting her become one more unsolved missing person case. I pointed out that she had her name on her apartment mail box in the lobby and her telephone was in her name, which would certainly make it fairly easy for the police to find her when they really started looking.
   With Karl still protesting, I insisted that I would see Mrs. Cricksley in the morning and try to convince her that her daughter was safe even if she couldn't see her. I went to sleep that night wondering how I was going to convince her.
   Back in 2150 I had my first precognitive experience while talking with Rana. I had been practicing review of past lives when suddenly the vision of being interrogated by two policemen imposed itself on my consciousness. I had a strong feeling that this was coming in the very near future. When Rana agreed with me, I told her about my 1976 problem with Neda's identity and we discussed ways of handling it along with their probable consequences. A wise Personal Evolution tutor never tells people what to do, but rather, helps them see their problems from a more Macro perspective, then explore alternative solutions and their probable results. So I received no simple solution. However, I did decide on a course of action which seemed to provide the best long-term results for Karl and Neda. I immediately went to sleep in the tutoring room with the strong desire of waking up early in my 1976 morning.
   I awakened at 5 a.m. and telephoned Neda with the request that she get dressed and come up to our room as soon as possible. Then I woke up Karl with the announcement that the police would soon be at our apartment and at Neda's. He didn't ask me how I knew this, be just wanted to know how much time we had before our visitors would arrive. I told him that I thought it would be in a little over two hours and that Neda would soon be joining us for breakfast.
   By the time Neda arrived, Karl and I had dressed and shaved. As we ate a hurried breakfast I outlined my plan of action. First we would move all of Neda's belongings into Karl's station wagon. Fortunately, she still had not acquired more belongings than the wagon could easily accommodate. Then, I suggested that Karl pack a suitcase for himself and leave with Neda for the adjoining state where they could get married and begin a little honeymoon trip.
   Karl grinned and said, "Now, that's the best plan I've heard yet, Jon. I hope Neda thinks so, too," he added, taking her hand in his.
   Neda gave Karl and me a lovely shy smile and admitted that she too was delighted with my plan.
   With their agreement to the first part of my plan I began supplying the next steps. First I would teach Karl's classes and give out the story that he had eloped with his beautiful new girlfriend. She would get married under the false name of Neda Dailey and be Neda Johnson for the rest of her life.
   At first Karl was worried about the legality of their marriage if Neda used a false name, but Neda said that she didn't mind as long as Karl loved her. Then she added that if 2150 could get along without any marriages at all, they should be able to survive a slightly illegal one.
   After breakfast I helped Neda carry her belongings to the car while Karl packed his suitcase with enough clothes to last a couple of weeks. We had agreed that Karl would call me at the end of the week and if he couldn't reach me he would contact Snuffy for information from me. At a little before 7 a.m. Karl and Neda waved goodbye and drove off in the dim early morning light.
   At 7:15 a.m. two policemen knocked at our apartment door. They showed me a university picture of me which they said Mrs. Cricksley had identified as the person who had abducted her daughter. I explained that while I had hired Neda Cricksley as a typist and rented her an apartment she had not liked the work and had quit both her job and her new apartment just a couple of days ago. I then invited the officers to examine the apartment she had so recently vacated.
   They not only searched Neda's apartment but also mine. I was extremely grateful that police of 1976 did not have the highly developed clairvoyance of some of my 2150 friends, for if they had, they would have seen the electron heat tracings of Neda's body which would still have been present on her bed!
   When I explained that my roommate had left the day before to go on a honeymoon with his new bride they, at first, exhibited considerable interest in getting in touch with Karl. However, I showed them a picture I had recently taken of Karl and Neda and they could see that his new bride bore not even the faintest resemblance to the missing girl.
   I concentrated with all my Macro power on convincing the two officers that they need not arrest me because I would be glad to visit their police station that afternoon and submit myself to a lie detector test of everything I had said and for any further, questions they might wish to ask me. I succeeded so well that they even agreed to drive me to the university so I wouldn't be late for Karl's first class.
   That afternoon, after teaching all three of Karl's classes and joking with the students about his elopement, I went to the police station. There I found that the two officers had had real trouble explaining to their chief why they had let me go that morning. I was just in time to prevent their being sent off to bring me in.
   Once again I repeated the story I had given that morning concerning Neda, but this time I was hooked up to a lie detector and was questioned by the police chief and two hard-faced detectives. My ability to control my mind and, thus, my body, naturally made the lie detector support my story. Then tremendous Macro persuasiveness got me released in spite of a rather unpleasant confrontation with Mrs. Cricksley in which I strongly planted the suggestion in the minds of the police that if any harm had come to Neda, Mrs. Cricksley was probably a partner to it. When I left, she was taking her turn with the lie detector.
   During the following week the local newspaper featured the disappearance of the missing college student with a picture of Neda. Two other coeds had disappeared recently. Their bodies, raped, murdered, and buried in a woods near campus, had been recovered only two weeks ago, so the first thought was that Neda, too, had become the victim of their murderer. One look at the old picture of Neda, however, made it difficult to entertain the possibility of a sex crime, and since her parents were virtually paupers, it was a certainty that she hadn't been kidnapped for their money.
   I made one more visit to the police station, at which time I discovered that the police had made an exhaustive study of my life history which did not support the theory that I was a kidnapper and murderer. As a crippled Vietnam War veteran and a respected graduate student who was more interested in his studies and doctoral research than in girls, campus politics, or student hijinks, I didn't fit their concept of the criminal type at all.
   By the end of the week when Karl called, I was so optimistic about my relations with the police that I told him our problems were over and to enjoy his honeymoon. However, he insisted on returning with Neda so he could finish teaching his classes. They returned on Sunday and moved into Neda's apartment as Mr. and Mrs. Karl Johnson. The following morning Karl resumed his teaching and Neda resumed her typing. While Karl and Neda were interviewed by the police, I managed to be present during the questioning and succeeded in convincing them that these two people could not possibly have been connected with the disappearance of Neda Cricksley..
   So ended Neda Cricksley.
   The case of the missing co-ed and the recovery of the bodies of the other two brought the fear and tension of our university community to a fever pitch and provided me with my second precognitive experience.
   It was on Sunday, exactly one week after Karl and Neda had returned, that I awakened with a clairvoyant impression of Central Park not far from the 109th Street entrance. I clearly saw two vicious-looking men chasing a young girl. In the vision I knew that these two men were responsible for the rape-murders of the two co-eds whose bodies had recently been discovered. I woke with a sense of urgency that I must get to the park immediately. It was only a matter of minutes before my precognitive dream would become a material reality.
   Ten minutes later I approached the park wishing that I had my magnificent 2150 body. It was a little before 7 a.m. and the park appeared to be deserted. I realized that I could spend a long time wandering through it without seeing anyone at this time of day.
   Then I began using my telepathic power like a radar to sweep ahead of me through the heavily wooded park. I must have walked along the concrete paths for almost ten minutes before I picked up the thoughts of a young girl whom I could not see because of a rise between us.
   As I focused my mind more closely on hers I realized that she was riding a new bicycle along the paths of the park. She had been doing this every morning and evening, before and after school, since she received it as a gift for her thirteenth birthday recently.
   I stopped walking in order to concentrate all my energies on telepathic contact with the girl. I waited right where I was, since I felt she would soon be riding into view over the ridge nearby. The trees stood sharply black against the cold morning sky. A recent thaw had melted most of the snow, leaving isolated dirty little piles around clumps of shrubbery or beside walkways.
   Suddenly my mind contact with the little girl chilled my bones. She was being harassed by two men on motorcycles.
   I visualized my body as feather-light and started a grotesque hobble-run that soon brought me to the top of the ridge. I looked down upon a wooded path and saw the girl running through the trees followed by two shaggy-haired young men in grimy motorcycle togs, just as they had appeared in my vision.
   The little girl had left her bicycle behind in hope of finding protection among the trees, but the men had abandoned their cycles and were fast overtaking her.
   I reached out to touch their minds and encountered lust and menacing glee as the tall one with a long droopy mustache caught a handful of the girl's long blond hair. I watched with mounting horror as this dark-visaged man slammed the girl to the ground, then, clasping both hands about her waist, lifted her like a banner high in the air.
   His pudgy companion grabbed her and began slapping her with huge hamlike hands as they both ripped at her clothing.
   Suddenly red waves of rage crashed through my mind. I slipped back in time and became, once again, the Indian medicine man fighting white soldiers who were raping and killing the women and children of my tribe. I found myself running faster and faster toward these monstrous invaders.
   Suddenly my elbows dug into the hard wet ground and I cursed my crippled body for failing me. I was still some thirty yards from the enemy.
   The little girl's heart-rending scream of anguish snapped me back to the present, and I shouted at her assailants as I struggled to my feet.
   They looked up at me with surprise. The pudgy one laughed at the audacity of a one-legged man trying to interfere with the two of them. I headed toward him. When he was within ten feet I launched myself at his legs, managing to knock him down. We rolled about on the ground as this pudgy-faced youth tried to get room to slam his fists into me. I tried to stay close and harkened back to my army hand-to-hand combat training. I felt his huge fist slam against the side of my head, and for a couple of moments was lucky just to be able to hold onto him. My rage had made me clumsy, but now with cold angry ferocity I began slashing at his face and throat with short powerful karate chops.
   With a scream of frustration and pain he broke away from me and got to his feet. They were shod with heavy lethal-looking boots. I telepathically picked up his murderous thought of stomping the life out of me with them. This gave me the split-second margin I needed, and the boot whizzed harmlessly past my face. I grabbed it and with a sharp twist brought him to the ground. Before he could recover I began slamming my fist into his jaw with all the strength of my rage. How long I kept at this I don't know, but another scream from the girl brought me to my senses and I realized that I was beating at an unconscious face. As I looked up, the tall fellow was sprawled on top of the little girl mauling her small round breast with one hand as he tore at the last bits of her clothing with the other.
   I was up and bounding toward him, my voice shrieking madly at the top of my lungs. He leaped to his feet and came charging toward me shouting obscenities. Again I threw a body block and we fell to the ground, but this time my opponent was too quick for me and I found myself pinned to the ground with a leering mustached face bending over me as two powerful hands dug into my throat slamming my head into the ground again and again. I redoubled my efforts to break loose, but his hands were like manacles and his arms like heavy steel. Things were getting blurry... there was no air, and only one hope. I let my body go completely slack.
   For a moment the iron grip on my neck continued, then with one last painful thrust, relaxed. As I tried to maintain some degree of consciousness I felt his hot face above mine. My thumbs leaped for his eyes and scored two agonizing hits.
   With a piercing scream he fell backward and began rolling about on the ground in frantic pain-driven frustration. I tried to breathe deeply to recover as much strength as possible, then as he rolled toward me I raised both my arms and with every ounce of desperate strength slammed my hard wrists down on the back of his neck.
   There was a sharp snap and his body went limp.
   I staggered to my feet and hobbled wearily to where the girl lay naked on the cold wet ground. She had either fainted or been knocked unconscious, but she had not been raped.
   I dressed her in the torn clothing, then wrapped her in my top coat and began reaching out for her unconscious mind. When I contacted the fear and terror there I sent powerful reassurances that all was well and that she was completely safe. Using PK and clairvoyance I worked with her body to speed up the healing of her bruises. Soon her eyelids began to flutter.
   As she opened her eyes I began speaking softly but confidently about how she was all right now and would be able to ride her bicycle home without any trouble. I helped her to her feet and made sure that her own coat was buttoned as well as possible with its remaining buttons, before retrieving my own. With both my vocal and telepathic reassurances she mounted her bike, thanked me for helping her, and rode quickly off toward her home.
   I had considered having her call the police and confront her attackers at the police station, but decided to spare her that ordeal. Instead I decided to deal with her assailants myself. What I was going to do with them I wasn't sure, but I decided to start by taking them back with me to our fourth-floor. apartment, which was vacant. There I could confine them till I decided what to do with them. First, however, I would have to heal them and set up hypnotic control of their actions so they would obey me.
   I walked back to where my last adversary lay sprawled out and began my clairvoyant examination of his injuries. It didn't take long to realize that he was dying from a broken neck. I began working to repair the damage before it was too late. I had learned from C.I. that the healing powers of the greater mind are unlimited if used properly. The problem was to stop the struggle of the patient's micro self so that the healing process could take place. In less than thirty minutes I succeeded in completely healing his neck. While this would have been considered very slow by 2150 standards, I was satisfied, having done the very best I could. Before permitting him to regain consciousness I planted powerful subconscious suggestions of obedience to me. I sensed that his name was Griff.
   His pudgy-faced companion, Judd, was still unconscious with a broken jaw, so I resumed my healing efforts. Again I was able to reach deep into his mind and still the unconscious struggle. Then working with his gland and nerve centers, I released the great healing forces. His jaw was soon healed and his mind had accepted my hypnotic control of his actions. He demonstrated his obedience by quietly getting to his feet and going to his motorcycle.
   Returning Griff to consciousness, I started him toward his, motorcycle also. Then, with me-riding behind Griff and directing him, we made our way back to the apartment building with Judd close behind. Entering the seldom-used rear door, we made it up to the fourth floor without being seen. Once inside the apartment, I told them they could not leave without my permission and suggested that they go to sleep until I awakened them. Walking down to my third-floor apartment, I took my weary body to bed.
   For the first time in almost two months I went to sleep and did not wake up in 2150. Instead I had a dream in which I saw Lea standing at the foot of my bed looking sadly down at me.

   "Why do you look so sad?" I asked.
   "Because I could not bring you to 2150 this time," she replied. "Your anger has broken the time-space translation loop."
   "What do you mean?" I questioned.
   "I mean that your vicious treatment of those two men this morning lowered your vibration rate so much that it is now impossible for us to translate your vibrations into our time dimension," Lea explained.
   "You mean that just because I protected that little girl from certain rape, and probable murder, I can't return to you and the Macro family? That's impossible! That wouldn't be fair at all," I protested, sure that there had been some mistake.
   "You're right, Jon. It certainly wouldn't be fair if just protecting the child prevented your translation," she answered. "It's not all that simple, though. You protected her not with the love and acceptance of a Macro perspective, but rather with the hate and rage of your micro self."
   "But I couldn't fight them at the Macro level. What else could I have done?" I asked.
   "At the Macro level," she answered, "you would not have needed to fight them, only restore the imbalance of their minds."
   "But I couldn't possibly restore balance to their depraved minds. They're monsters!!" I defended.
   "So you acquiesced to your limiting beliefs, condemned them for their micro violence, then fought them with your own micro violence," Lea stated.
   Suddenly I felt an agony of pain in my jaw and neck. I was shocked to find they were broken! Then in my mind I heard the voice of Rana. "Pass no judgment, and you will not be judged. For as you judge others, so will you yourself be judged, and whatever measure you deal out to others will be dealt back to you in return. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye with never a thought for the great plank in your own?"
   "All right," I said, "I'm experiencing the pain that I inflicted this morning. But they deserved it."
   "Of course they did," Lea replied, "but only micro man punishes. You are dooming yourself to live in a micro world as long as you desire a micro way of life."
   "Does this mean that I've forfeited my chance to live in the Macro society?" I asked.
   "You won't be able to return to 2150 until you've balanced the negative vibrations you created within your essential self," she explained. "If, within a month you succeed in positively balancing today's negative actions, you may return to continue seeking level-three awareness. However, now that you have broken the time-space translation loop it will take a great deal of energy to reestablish it. This will probably reduce the amount of time you have left in 2150."
   "I'm so sorry, Lea. I didn't mean to louse things up. I just couldn't help myself. I could do the same thing over again... I just mustn't. I've got to grow, and I'd better start by balancing the negative vibrations I've set up. How can I do that, Lea?" I asked.
   She smiled sadly. "If you don't know the answer to that question by now, Jon, you might as well give up hope of experiencing 2150 again in this lifetime."
   With these words ringing in my mind I awakened to an excruciating pain in my jaw and neck. Fortunately for me, I had healed my victims so that their pain had not lasted long. I remembered that according to the law of karma my own pain must soon pass, too. Then I realized. that my perspective must have suffered a terrible blow, for I hadn't thought in terms of karma since my first week in 2150! That's when I first learned that karma is only valid from a less than Macro point of view.
   As these thoughts entered my mind the pain began to diminish, and it was not long before I was completely free of the misery I had inflicted upon myself.
   While I was free of one pain, the thought of being forever separated from my new world would, I knew, prove far more painful in the long run. Somehow I had to learn how to balance my negative vibrations and I was sure that my best chance of doing this lay upstairs with the hoodlums I had captured. If I forced them to go to the police and confess to the rape-murders of the two co-eds, which my probing of their minds had discovered, maybe that would do it. They would be punished, if not by the electric chair, then by a life term in one of our prisons... But that kind of angry vengeance usually fills its victims with even more hate, and from the Macro perspective I knew that those who died with hatred often chose quick rebirth in an attempt at revenge. Thus, what micro man can not see, due to his limited life perspective, is that hate and revenge always produce more hate and more revenge. No, I couldn't balance my negativity by using micro man's approach to the problem. That was not the solution. But what was?
   I smiled sadly to myself as I recalled that micro man had been given the solution by all his great Macro philosophers. The so-called Christian nations knew of this as the one commandment that their great Master gave: "Love one another, as I have loved you."
   Shaking my head, I resigned myself to the fact that this one commandment didn't seem very practical from. a micro point of view. However, I had been exposed to a larger point of view... the Macro view... which I must now use to solve this problem and, thereby, get back to my beloved Lea in 2150. So I couldn't turn my two captives over to the police, but I couldn't turn them loose to continue on their murderous path, either. Could I, I wondered, rehabilitate them?
   While I had succeeded in using my Macro powers to heal them and to safely firing them to the apartment, would I now be able to heal their twisted micro minds? I knew that I could control their minds and force them to do only what I commanded, but this would certainly not be rehabilitation, not with me acting as the prison warden of their minds. Somehow I must help them see the long-term painful and unfulfilling consequences of their micro existence. As I searched my mind for a way of performing this miracle I loaded a tray with bowls, spoons, a carton of milk, and some granola. I picked up the tray and started off to their apartment.
   When I entered the room they were still in their hypnotically induced sleep. I quickly awakened them and got them into the kitchen, where we all sat at the kitchen table. At first they eyed me with fear, but this slowly gave way to puzzled bewilderment as I told them that they were my guests and that I had healed their bodies and was about to start trying to heal their minds. I told them that if we succeeded they would be free to live satisfying new lives without fear of the police. If we failed, and I emphasized "we," to begin developing the idea of a joint venture in which they would have at least equal responsibility, then I could promise nothing but a future filled with misery and unhappiness.
   Griff, the tall one, scratched his head and began pulling on his mustache. "Listen, man," he said finally, "I don't understand what's happening. How did you get us to come here with you? And how come you haven't called the cops?"
   I wasn't sure how to answer these two questions, so I took my time before saying, "I hypnotized you into coming here, and the reason I didn't turn you over to the police is sort of complicated. You see, I know that you raped and murdered those two co-eds, and if I just wanted you punished I'd let the police have you. But I'm going to gamble on being able to show you a different type of life which will prove so attractive that you won't want to hurt anybody ever again."
   "Hey, man," Judd exclaimed, "are you some sort of religious nut? You gonna save us from our sins?"
   "No," I assured him, shaking my head, "I'm just going to tell you some things and if what I say doesn't make sense to you, then I'll turn you loose and you can do whatever you wish."
   They looked at me suspiciously, then Griff said, "What's stopping us from walking out right now?"
   I told him. "That door to the hall is red hot. If you try to open it you'll get burned. You'll find the same is true of the windows."
   I could see they didn't consciously believe me. As they both got up, Griff said, "You're plumb crazy, man. There's nothing wrong with that door. I think maybe we should be doctoring you."
   Judd reached the door first and started to open it, but as soon as his hand touched the doorknob he let out a scream and jerked backwards.
   "Yeowww!" Judd wailed as he frantically waved his hand in the air trying to cool it. "God damn it. That crazy bastard's right. Look at my hand!"
   He held his reddened hand out for Griff to examine. Griff apparently accepted the reality of Judd's pain, for he turned to me and said sarcastically, "Okay, man, how the hell did ya manage that little trick?"
   "I hypnotized you into believing the door was red hot," I explained. "There was nothing you could do about it because I was working with your subconscious mind, not your conscious one. As long as your subconscious mind holds my suggestion, you won't be able to get out that door."
   Judd, still holding his hand, glared at me and said, "Well, if it's all in my mind, then how come I've got these God damned-blisters on my hand?"
   "Because your body can only do what your mind directs it to do," I answered. "Your mind believes your hand is burned so it directs your nerves to signal pain and your gland system to produce blisters."
   "Okay, man," Griff nodded, "we'll buy the science lecture, but how about you knocking off this messin' around with our minds. You were lucky this morning. You don't think you can take us both at the same time, do you? We'd bust you right in half."
   "I made a mistake this morning," I admitted, "and I'm paying for it. But I'm not going to fight you again."
   "You mean you're just going to stand there and let us tear you up?" Judd sneered. "I can just see that. Sure you are. Noooo, sir. You fight like a madman. You did this morning, and you'll do it again right now first time we lift a fist."
   "No, I won't," I responded, "I don't have to. From now on if either one of you tries to harm anyone you'll only succeed in doing it to yourself."
   They looked at me skeptically, so I said, "If you haven't learned to believe me, you can try and see for yourself. I'm warning you, though, that you'll only hurt yourself."
   "Bash him one, Griff," Judd urged. "Call his bluff."
   "So he can get hurt like you did?" I asked.
   Griff approached me warily and with obvious uncertainty. Finally he sidled up to within striking distance and began giving me what he clearly hoped was a frightening stare. I remained standing and smiled at him.
   "Remember," I said, "you've been warned that any harm you try to do to anyone else will only happen to you."
   "Okay," Griff said, "I believe you, man. I wouldn't think of hurting you."
   With these words he pretended to turn away but when he was half turned he suddenly let go with a twisting uppercut to my jaw. It had tremendous force as Griff soon discovered, for his fist missed my chin and like a boomerang, came crashing back into his own jaw, knocking him off balance so that he fell heavily to the floor.
   "What 'the hell?" Judd exclaimed, "you didn't even move and Griff knocked himself down. What the hell's happening?"
   "I told you, but you refused to believe me. How badly do you have to hurt yourselves before you-start believing me?"
   Griff had climbed to his feet and gingerly touched his sore jaw. He came at me fiercely and stopped just short of my body. A combination of rage and puzzled amazement filled his eyes. Drawing up his fist, he hesitated, then sticking out his index finger poked at my chest. The pokes of course landed on his own befuddled self.
   He eyed me thoughtfully. I had a feeling that he was getting ready to give some genuine consideration to what I had to say.
   "You've seen that if you think something is true it has real consequences," I said. "Well, I'm trying to show you that the way we think causes everything that happens to us. If we think negatively it has negative results for us, and if we think positively it has positive results for us."
   "Crap!" Judd exclaimed." Now we get a sermon on the power of positive thinking. Right?"
   "No," I said, "I'm going to give you a demonstration. From now on, every angry thought that you have, about anything and for any reason, will cause a violent headache. It will last only as long as your angry thoughts."
   "OOOWWEE! Jesus Christ, man!" Judd cried as he clutched his forehead.
   "What's wrong? Griff asked.
   "That son of a bitch is sticking daggers into my head," Judd shouted: "Ooooh-it's killing me! Stop it! Stop it!"
   "You are the only one who can stop it, Judd," I explained. "When you stop thinking angry thoughts at me the pain will stop."
   "Do as he says, Judd," Griff advised. "That bastard's got a hex on us. I guess you better do as he says."
   The pain seemed to have reached the point where Judd could think only of it, and the angry thoughts were crowded out of his mind by thoughts of how to get rid of the pain. His face which had been distorted by the pain now gradually relaxed and he gave a sigh of relief as he wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve.
   "There," I said, "all you had to do was stop your angry thoughts and the headache stopped, too. Now I'm going to leave you so you can think about what I've said, and if you still have doubts about the truth of my statements you can test them out. Any questions before I leave?"
   "Yeah, man," Griff said. "How long you plannin' on keepin' us here?"
   "You've got enough cereal and milk to last you till tomorrow morning. I'll be back then," I answered.
   "You're keepin' us here just like the pigs keep people in jail!" Griff protested then spit at me.
   A split second later he was wiping his face with one hand while the other held his throbbing forehead. He howled, "I didn't mean it... I'm sorry-damn it, I said I'm sorry!"
   "You don't have to convince me," I responded. "Just convince yourself that you aren't angry and your headache will go away. Well, see you tomorrow. Here's wishing you loving, happy thoughts."
   With those words I left them and walked down to Karl and Neda's apartment. By this time it was midafternoon and I was just in time to be invited to a late luncheon which Neda had just prepared. Since I hadn't eaten anything yet, I let Karl and Neda do most of the talking while I concentrated on reducing my hunger pangs. Then I told them about my experiences so far that day.
   As I had expected, Karl favored turning my captives over to the police. He wasn't at all happy about having two rapists in the same building with his new wife. Scooting his chair closer to hers, Karl put his arm around her protectively. Neda, however, supported my arguments for trying to rehabilitate them.
   "After all, Karl," she kept repeating, "look what Jon did for me. If he can make a silk purse out of an ugly sow's ear like I was, why couldn't he work a miracle with those hoodlums?"
   "Oh, yeah," Karl replied. "Well, I've learned something about Jon's Macro philosophy and I know, and Jon will agree, that you can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped. The person has to actively cooperate. He couldn't have helped you if you hadn't had sufficient desire and belief."
   "That's true," I agreed. "Neda had to desire and believe in the possibility of the changes that took place in her in order for them to become permanent."
   "See there," Karl said, waving his spoon in the air, "you're licked before you get started with those hoodlums, because they sure don't desire to suddenly become model citizens... much less believe it's possible."
   "You're right about that, Karl," I conceded. "As of now they certainly lack the necessary desire and belief, but by tomorrow they're going to think twice before they doubt the truth of anything I say. And tomorrow I'm going to start teaching them Macro philosophy."
   "That's ridiculous," Karl argued. "Why they're the lowest type of micro scum on the face of this earth, and you've said over and over that the Macro perspective doesn't make sense to micro man. In fact, from a micro view, a concept such as 'all is one', is simply not true. Why waste your time, Jon? Why not just turn them over to the police? You don't want to mess around with people like that. They're sicker than hell and they're damned dangerous, too. They don't deserve... "
   "Are you about to say that those young men don't deserve help?" I interrupted. "If so, I warn you to be careful how you judge them. Remember the warning words that Rana quoted and consider your judgment carefully before you condemn yourself, too, as being unworthy of rehabilitation."
   Karl opened his mouth to reply, but Neda quickly put her finger gently to his lips. "Please, Karl," she asked, "think about what Jon said. After all, he has been cut off from 2150 for thinking just such condemning thoughts. That's about as much tragedy as we need for one day."
   Neda had certain natural persuasive advantages that I had never had with Karl, so I wasn't surprised to see him nod his head and yield the point to her.
   "By the way, Karl," I said, "would you mind if Neda typed up my journal? By the end of this week I'm hoping our new house guests will be ready to consider what I've written there. If they can believe it, then maybe they'll want to start learning how to live a Macro life."
   Neda wanted to start on it right away, but by the time our discussion ended, the day was gone and evening had arrived. When I left them I was convinced that Neda, far more than I, had gotten Karl to accept comfortably the major tenets of the Macro society and Macro philosophy. I retired early that evening knowing that I wouldn't be awakening in 2150, but planning an early start with Griff and Judd.
   The next three days were some of the most frustrating I've ever experienced. It seems that my two captives had headaches most of the time, which made them angry, which gave them headaches, which made them angry, which gave them more headaches, and so on. In their frustrated rage they tried to attack me a number of times and, of course, ended up just hurting themselves. They even burned their hands on the door a couple more times.
   At first I was astonished, at the amount of pain they were willing to put up with rather than learn the simple lessons I had given them. Finally, I realized that a lifetime habit of running away from responsibility for one's own life situation was not quickly overcome. Both Griff and Judd were experts at repressing or forgetting unpleasant details, so they kept forgetting that their own anger produced headaches, that the door was burning hot, and that if they tried to hit me they would only hit themselves instead.
   Of course, if they hadn't been so angry at their inability to escape they would have learned much faster. But, as Rana had once explained, all anger is self-anger caused by calling something bad and then feeling inadequate to change the "bad" or "undesirable" situation. She had continued saying that since micro man usually refuses to accept responsibility for his unpleasant experiences, he unconsciously projects the blame onto others. Then he feels justified in projecting his self-anger and self-hate upon others, too. Since these denial-of-reality techniques work temporarily, and micro man forgets they are only temporary, this type of behavior continues to become an even stronger habit until it is extremely difficult to change.
   This pernicious "it's not my fault" cycle was what I was seeing in Griff and Judd.
   Looking at my own life, I could see this pattern repeated over and over again. I not only had my present life to examine but a number of past lives, too, which all bore out the same lesson: All my problems were self-caused due to my refusal to accept this Macro truth: All learning is based on remembering (accepting) the learning value of one's own mistakes.
   Once more the ancient truth: He who forgets his past is doomed to repeat it.
   Karl had warned me at the end of the first day that I had better be able to live by the same conditions I forced on my captives. I had assured him that I was perfectly willing to experience a headache any time I gave in to the micro habit of anger. I had-felt confident that from my larger perspective it would be impossible for me to get angry. What I didn't realize was that all dissatisfaction produces some anger. In other words, to the extent that I saw anything as being more bad than good I felt anger, and by the second day I was experiencing headaches of my own.
   I had realized that from the Macro perspective everything is both bad and good, ugly and beautiful, failure and success. But I hadn't realized how inadequate I was to actually practice seeing both sides of the coin, or the balanced Macro view. I, who had devised what I thought was a brilliant scheme for motivating my captives to learn how to think more positively, was now caught in my own device. By the end of the third day we were running neck and neck for who had the biggest headache-Griff, Judd, or me. I was willing to bet that I won by a head (ache!).
   Fortunately, things got better on the fourth day. This was caused by a number of things, but an important factor was Neda. When Neda saw how miserable I was on the third evening she begged Karl and me to let her visit Griff and Judd, taking with her the typed pages of this journal. Both Karl and I opposed this but Neda insisted that anything they did to harm her would reflect right back to themselves instead, so she couldn't get hurt.
   I argued that it was a chance I was just not willing to take. Unfortunately, arguing with Neda only made my headache worse, which made me think that maybe she was right. So I gave in-with the stipulation that I act as her guard.
   While Karl held out longer, I could see that Neda's lovely persuasiveness was too much for him. She visited my captives with me as her guardian.
   I had to ask Neda to open the door to their apartment for I was living my own sentence so completely that the door knob now burned my hands, too.
   Neda proved so thoroughly charming that Griff and Judd were soon over their headaches. She managed to prolong her stay by beginning to read my journal to us. I was sure that neither of them was ready to accept this journal as anything more than a ridiculous fantasy. But with Neda reading it and interrupting herself to make comments and to clarify or answer their questions, both Griff and Judd were soon so deeply involved in my journal experiences that they didn't want Neda to stop reading.
   I suggested it was getting late, but it was only after Neda promised to come back the following day and finish reading the journal that they were willing to accept her departure.
   The next day Neda spent almost six hours with Griff and Judd and still didn't finish reading this journal because they asked her so many questions about herself and about the changes that had taken place in her. I was surprised at how little skepticism they showed, although Neda got me to demonstrate some of the Macro powers for them. They were most impressed by my PK levitations in which I floated some sofa pillows around the room, and they remembered that I had healed the injuries I had inflicted on them. I had also healed their burned hands, at Neda's suggestion, and from then on we had no more problems with the door. They didn't approach it, and it didn't burn me any more.
   By the end of the fourth day I was convinced that Neda was a tremendous help to me in getting through to Griff and Judd. I was still amazed at the great personality change in Neda. She was confident, outgoing, patient, kind, and most surprising of all, full of humor, joy, and laughter. When I asked about these psychological changes, she responded, "I'm the living, breathing proof to myself that your Macro philosophy of the future can overcome any problem."
   "But knowing about Griff and Judd, aren't you afraid of them?" I asked.
   Neda laughed. "As long as I can remember my past I can't imagine being too upset by anything in the future."
   "Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How about being raped and murdered?"
   She shook her head playfully, saying, "I'm sorry if my lack of fear worries you and Karl, but I'm not being foolhardy. I just believe in your Macro philosophy, which says that this is a perfectly just universe and we can experience only what we have chosen to experience. Everyone will eventually learn the truth that all is one. So in the long run, the future can only get better, more aware, and more loving. Nothing can happen to me except what I have chosen to grow from. So what is there to fear?"
   "I still don't understand how you could have learned to practice this Macro view so quickly," I replied, shaking my-head.
   "Didn't you tell me that all human problems are caused by resisting and fighting the inevitable changes in our lives?" she reminded.
   "Yes," I answered. "However, I-"
   "Then try to understand," she interrupted, "that I've had so many changes taking place in my life that I've learned to enjoy it."
   "What if you're in an accident," I postulated, "and you lose that newly acquired physical beauty-could you accept that change?"
   "Yes," she answered, "I think I could, because now I know-what it is-a vehicle; why I have it-we created it through your/our belief in a philosophy of oneness; and why I won't have it if it's taken from me-because I caused and chose it!
   "I fully believe, Jon, that as long as I want this body I'll have it."
   "That takes care of the beliefs, and it sounds like you have the desire too," I observed. "With those two you can have anything you want as long as you don't cancel it with a conflicting desire or belief."
   "I used to have a strong desire to be beautiful and happy," she said, "but I didn't believe it was possible. This made me want to stay away from others so they wouldn't see how homely I was. My desire to avoid rejection, by not becoming involved, was so great that it cancelled out my desire to be beautiful and happy."
   "It sounds so complicated when we put it into words that I don't see how we're ever going to explain it to Griff and Judd," I sighed.
   Neda teased me saying, "That's because you lack sufficient belief, Jon. But I believe it's possible and I desire to accomplish it, so I will succeed."
   I laughed, "You've beaten me at my own game, Neda. I'm going to watch your technique for the next few days. You're probably the answer to my cry for help during those frustrating first three days. 'Ask and you shall receive,' Hmm. Well I asked and here you are, Neda, so I'd better get out of the way and let you do your thing.".
   I had given myself a week to begin seeing some sign of greater awareness in my captives, and I really hadn't expected any dramatic changes. However, by Sunday, just one week after I had captured them, Griff and Judd behaved so differently that at times I had difficulty believing they were the same men who had attacked three girls and raped and killed two of them. Neda had made the big difference. She had gotten them to listen to her and accept her, then she had persuaded them to accept me.
   I don't mean that Griff and Judd were ready to live at a Macro level by any means, because you learn by doing and even a week as intensive and challenging as the one they had just finished didn't give them enough practice to balance the years that went before. However, they had made a beginning at an entirely new way of thinking and it was already showing surprising results. Griff had at first been very depressed at learning about reincarnation and how our soul selects lessons to balance our learning experiences.
   "What hope for the future have we got? If what you're telling us is true we'll probably be born girls next time and get raped and murdered," he reluctantly observed.
   When I explained that this was only true if they refused to evolve to a more Macro perspective where karma, as popularly defined, didn't apply.
   "You mean," Judd asked, "there's a way of escaping that damn karma thing?"
   "Well," I answered, "the law of karma is only a problem to micro man because he had more hate or negative thoughts and actions than positive loving ones. At the Macro level people live by the law of love, which does not include penance. Its basis is joyous acceptance of whatever is, as perfectly chosen by each soul for its own development"
   They kept asking questions about the law of love until Neda said, "If you can lovingly accept everything that happens to you, then nothing bad or unpleasant will be a part of your future."
   "How in the world does a person learn to do that?" Griff asked.
   "By wanting to learn it," Neda replied, "and by believing that you can learn it."
   Griff kept asking questions, and Neda and I kept trying to answer them until Griff surprised us by saying that he'd like a notebook and a pen so he could start writing down some of these ideas. Once he started writing, he stayed up most of the night creating his own journal about Macro philosophy and how it might be used to rebuild his own life.
   During the last couple of days of that week we had almost no headaches. Griff and Judd were both demonstrating greater awareness. Still Karl questioned their sincerity.
   "After all," he cautioned, "they know that all they have to do is pretend to listen to everything you say, then promise to live the kind of life you expect of them, and you'll let them go."
   "But they really mean it," Neda assured him.
   "How do you know?" said Karl. "Don't forget, these guys are probably expert liars and wouldn't know the truth if it hit them on the head."
   "Oh, Karl, you wouldn't be so skeptical if you'd spent all the hours with them that Jon and I have. Besides, we can always be sure of their progress by having Jon look at their auras."
   "Is that true, Jon?".
   "Well," I replied, "I haven't looked at their auras since I first saw them because they were so depressing, but I'll give it a try tomorrow. Telepathically I see that they're coming along amazingly well. However, if their auras show that they're lying, I'll keep them here."
   "But if they pass your aura test with pretty colors, you'll let them go tomorrow?"
   "Exactly. Of course, I'll invite them to come back for more Personal Evolution tutoring at least several times a week for a while-"
   "Well, I'll be..." I said, amazed at my new realization. "I'm a P.E. tutor! Can you believe that, Karl? And Neda-she is, too! It's amazing-simply amazing!"
   On Sunday both Neda and Karl spent most of the day talking with Griff and Judd while I devoted my energies to observing their auras. By the middle of the afternoon I had watched them as they answered seemingly endless questions put to them by Karl. They had become angry occasionally, but only briefly, though I felt that Karl had pushed them pretty hard at times.
   Still their auras looked much cleaner and sharper than they had been only seven days earlier. At last I asked them the biggest question of all.
   "Would you like to stay here another week?"
   There was a long silence while they looked at each other, then back at Neda, Karl, and myself. Finally, Judd cleared his throat and said, "I've learned an awful lot this past week; I guess I'd like to stick around a while longer if it's all right."
   Then we all looked at Griff, who was staring intently at the floor. I saw Karl start to say something, but he caught Neda's eye and changed his mind. We all waited. Then Griff raised his head and, looking intently into my eyes said, "I want to leave. I've got it written down in my journal that you learn by practicing-by doing-and out there is where I'll find out how much I've really learned this past week. I can't find that out up here four floors above the rest of the world."
   First Neda kissed Griff and then Judd while I watched Karl's neck, but he didn't say anything. Then I said, "I promised you both that once you had listened to what I had to say you could leave, and I'm not going to start lying to you now. I hope that you'll come back, Griff, to talk with Neda and me several times a week for a while, but that's up to you."
   Hearing this invitation and being assured that it applied also to him, Judd decided that he would go with Griff, but they both wanted to come back and talk with us some more, soon and often. On that note I removed the hypnotic blocks, which had turned their anger into headaches and the doorknob into fire, and we bade them goodbye.
   I accompanied Ned and Karl down to their apartment, where we spent the rest of the day until late evening discussing and digesting the past week's experience lessons and contemplating possible futures.
   Going to sleep that night I decided that I agreed with what Neda had said earlier about the week: It was the most important learning experience of my life because I took the biggest risks, made the biggest mistakes, and attained some important successes.
   I then employed the 2150 custom of closing the day with praise for having taken the risks necessary to grow that day and reaffirmation of my "lifestyle" plan for growth in the future

CHAPTER 14: The Challenge

   I awakened in the huge bed of our Alpha room to find that it was morning. Carol and the rest of our Alpha were looking down at me.
   "Welcome back, Jon," Carol said with a hug.
   Then everyone was congratulating me. Lea and Rana, along with other nines and tens, had been able to follow my week's activities in 1976. They observed that I had at last demonstrated love, leadership, and wisdom (the three Macro virtues) along with some Macro powers, so that my aura was now an emission of fresh lemonyorange with tones of pink, purples, greens, blues, and white. I had achieved second-level Macro awareness.
   Later that morning, while I was in my lakeside room at the C.I. center, I asked C.I. to provide me with more information about the levels of awareness. Since this was a general question, I soon discovered that I was receiving a lot more data than I could use or understand. However, by interrupting C.I. and asking specific questions I was able to gain some of the following information.
   (1) While it was recognized from the beginning of the Macro society (back in the 1970s) that there were ten general levels of Macro awareness, it was not until the year 2025 that anyone demonstrated more than level three. The levels eight, nine, and ten were not achieved until after the year 2100-a rather recent development.
   (2) Because of the relatively low levels of awareness in the early years of the Macro society, there had been some regressions in awareness level. This had almost always been associated with the misuse of Macro powers or leadership power. Some of these people had been on Micro Island, where they grabbed power and became the ruling elite. However, in the past 30 years no one above level two had regressed.
   (3) One could attain a high degree of Macro power and still not demonstrate level-two awareness since awareness level was determined by the degree of personal evolution or Macro awareness, not by the extent of one's Macro power.
   (4) The greatest challenge to the first seven levels of awareness existed on Micro Island and, thus, my best chance of developing level-three awareness quickly was to visit there. However, C.I. pointed out that on Micro Island I also ran a good chance of losing my second-level awareness and regressing to level one.
   Figuring that the sooner I got there the better, I began asking all the questions I could think of concerning Micro Island. Some of the most important information involved the dangers I would be facing.
   (1) Any visitor from the Macro society was liable to be killed unless protected by Macro powers. The greatest heroes of Micro Island were those who either killed the Macro visitors or persuaded them to give up membership in the Macro society to live permanently on Micro Island.
   (2) The current leaders of Micro Island were all former members of the Macro society who had some degree of Macro powers and used these powers to gain personal fame and fortune. This allowed them to lord it over others on the Island. These leader had been seduced by their desire for power with its fame and adulation. In other words, pride was the last and greatest obstacle to the soul's evolution toward greater awareness.
   (3) To attain level-three awareness I would have to demonstrate a personal evolution level which would overcome this last and greatest micro trait-pride. To do this I would have to voluntarily relinquish the protection of the Macro society and all its high level members including Lea and Rana.
   I questioned C.I. extensively on this last bit of information and was finally given the analogy that if I wanted to demonstrate swimming proficiency I wouldn't wear a life jacket. From this I concluded that if I let anyone else help me overcome pride I would not be demonstrating level-three awareness.
   The thought of being attacked by the inhabitants of Micro Island didn't seem so frightening since my experience with Griff and Judd. However, if I was attacked by someone who had developed Macro powers as great as or greater than my own that would be something else.
   That evening I talked over this last possibility with Carol and Rana and received some very disturbing news. It seemed that the leaders of Micro Island were expecting me.
   "How could they be expecting me?" I asked Rana. "I've never visited Micro Island."
   "You've been told," she answered, "that the leaders of Micro Island are former members of the Macro society, some of whom have highly developed Macro powers. With telepathy, clairvoyance, and precognition they have learned a great deal about you."
   "And," Carol added, "they are determined to either kill you or persuade you to give up the Macro way of life."
   "But why should they be especially interested in me?" I asked.
   "Because," Rana answered, "they know you are a twin soul of Lea, who, with the help of all other nines and tens, has managed our first time-space translation. They would like to destroy our project by killing you or, even better, by getting you to denounce the Macro society and join them on. Micro Island."
   "That's ridiculous," I said. "They must know that if I joined them I couldn't attain level-three awareness and would lose my chance for permanent time translation."
   Rana gave me a long appraising look before she answered. Finally she said, "There is another way of staying here permanently. Since Lea and the rest of us have established the time translation, as long as you are in 2150 time they could complete the translation if you would cooperate with them."
   "But... but... that's impossible!" I exclaimed. "C.I. told me that no one above level seven has ever defected to Micro Island. They wouldn't have the Macro power."
   I was shocked to see both Rana and Carol shaking their heads in disagreement with my statement. Then Rana said, "There are over 1,000 former Macro society members on Micro Island with varying degrees of Macro power. When they form a mind net in which all of them link their minds together, they could exert enough psychic power to complete, with your help, the time-space translation. However, while you would be a permanent member of 2150 it would have been accomplished without the help of your twin soul and before you reached the psychic balance of level-three personal evolution.
   "My God!" I exclaimed. "Then they can offer 2150 without my having to attain level three!"
   Rana nodded, "And they are planning to offer you not only permanent translation to 2150 but also adoption into their ruling elite, making you the third most powerful person on Micro Island."
   "Yes," Carol added, "you would rank just below their President, Elgon, and their Vice President, Sela. Elgon was the only level seven in the Macro society who ever regressed levels. It made him so angry that he chose to leave the Macro society some eighty years ago and make himself president of Micro Island. Ten years later he managed to persuade his former Alpha mate, Sela, who had been a level six, to join him as his Vice President."
   "But how is it," I asked, "that they can permanently complete my time translation when the combined efforts of every level nine and ten here and in the nearby planets are unable to do the same?"
   "Oh, they could do it all right," Carol answered calmly, "but they chose not to until you demonstrate level-three awareness."
   "Now wait a minute," I said. "Do I understand correctly that the Macro society has the power to keep me here permanently right now but won't do it because they don't like my level of awareness?"
   "Precisely," Rana answered. "But not because we're snobbish over levels of awareness, as you are presently suspecting."
   "Well, then, what is the reason you won't let me become a permanent member unless I attain level-three awareness?" I asked, a bit miffed.
   "We believe," Rana said, "that if we completed the time translation before you had attained the psychic balance of at least level three you would not be able to withstand the micro pressures and would quickly regress to level one and eventually choose to live permanently on Micro Island."
   "Are you sure?" I asked.
   "No," Rana answered candidly, "and we are not sure that, even at level three, you won't regress and eventually choose to leave the Macro society, but we all agreed that we'll take that gamble."
   "I learned from C.I." Carol added, "that almost a third of the level tens advised not completing the time translation until you had reached level seven. That was before they learned that Lea could only hold you here for three months without completing the translation."
   I felt cold and clammy with a combination of understanding and frustration. "What was the minimum level of awareness that you all had agreed on before you learned of the time limitation?"
   "Level five," Carol replied.
   For a moment I just stared at the two of them while I let this chilling information register completely in my mind. "So you're telling me that even with level-three awareness the odds are against my continuing to expand my awareness in 2150."
   "That's true, Jon," Rana replied. "Many feel your future success in the Macro society is very doubtful, due to the fact that you weren't born and raised in this age. Many feel that three months of your time is not enough to overcome the pull of your micro past. But we have voted and agreed to give you the chance if your personal evolution reaches level three."
   Now it was my turn to give Rana a long appraising stare. Finally I said, "With your level-ten wisdom and your precognitive powers, what do you see in my future?"
   She smiled and answered, "Things about the future can only be known as probabilities, or as possibilities, as they are always subject to change by the altering state of one's desire and belief. It would be unwise to predict your future at this point. I will be happy to help you explore alternative possibilities, though."
   I shook my head saying, "I still don't understand why anyone would think that I would give up my twin soul Lea, Carol, my Alpha, you, and the whole Macro society to permanently join a micro society. After all, I've lived in a micro society for twenty-seven years back in 1976 and I know first-hand how miserably neurotic and selfish it is."
   "The advantage of a micro society," Rana answered, "is that you can indulge your selfish desires and be acclaimed as a patriot, a statesman, or a hero in some field of endeavor."
   Carol took my hand. Then looking at me with great intensity she said, "But I believe in you, Jon. I know that you'll overcome the micro self."
   "And I, too, believe in you," Rana added. "It was my statement of belief in you before the Council of Tens that persuaded them to accept a level-three demonstration."
   Then I was startled to telepathically hear Lea saying, "And I believe in you-always and forever."
   Carol and Rana smiled at me and I knew that they too had picked up Lea's message. Rana said, "Certainly the three of us who know you best ought to be able to provide you with enough belief to overcome your micro doubts."
   I replied, "As long as I provide the necessary desire, the thought of losing contact with the three of you certainly provides me with the motivation I need."
   "Very well," Carol said. "Now the only question that remains is when should we leave for Micro Island?"
   "Tomorrow," I answered.
   Rana stretched out her hand to me and said, "I strongly suggest that you wait one more week in which you can continue developing your Macro powers. I feel you will need all you can develop."
   "You get that precognitively?" I asked.
   "No," she laughed. "I get it logically!"
   "All right," I agreed. "We'll wait one more week and I'll do all I can to develop my Macro powers, but that only gives me a little over two weeks to either attain level three or say farewell to 2150."
   For the next week I played endless rounds of PK tennis with Carol, Neal, and Jean.
   We played some more 2150 chess, too, and an extremely helpful new learning-game called Merge.
   The object of this new game was to become one with the object, animal, person, or action; to feel what it feels the way it feels it; to sense what it senses; move as it moves; to know what it knows; to merge with it and be it for a while.
   What an awakening experience, and what fun! The hardest part was always giving up my selfhood.
   Through hard practice and taking the necessary risks I eventually learned that I never really had a selfhood in the first place, except from a micro view.
   I learned that you can't lose what you never really had in the first place, namely, yourself. Since your separateness is only an illusion created by choice, it is there whenever you think you want or need it. It can't possibly be lost or taken away from you.
   People are fascinating to merge with, but also the most difficult, the most educational, and the most painful.
   Objects are the most dangerous for adults. While children find life so exciting that they jump from adventure to adventure, adults sometimes weary of the challenges and risks of life. If, in this weary state, they merge with, say a huge oak or a lovely big stable rock, it is sometimes extremely difficult to want to come back out. And, since desire precedes action, one must want to be a person more than he wants to be an oak before he can come out of an oak back to being fully a person.
   Back in 1976 I visited hospitals to practice healing. I used not only PK, but also clairvoyance, telepathy, the beginnings of precognition, and my newly developed ability to merge. As I walked up and down hospital corridors if I "future saw" the possibility of death coming quickly for a patient, I would try to remove this possibility. Interestingly, in attempting this I discovered the truth of free choice.
   One afternoon I persuaded (with considerable telepathic effort) the head nurse and two interns that I should be allowed access to the intensive care unit, where I found Bruno. He was a small man of 45 years who was recovering from a heart attack of that morning. According to the intern who examined him he was coming along just fine. But as I examined him clairvoyantly his aura was extremely weak and I "future saw" him riding in a hearse while lying in a casket. Since both these symbols represented death I felt that I had better go to work on Bruno immediately. The moment I made contact I got quite a surprise.
   Bruno had been lying quietly sleeping while I clairvoyantly examined him, but now as I reached out and touched his mind I heard him say, "Hello, Azar. It's been a long time since our paths have crossed."
   Azar is the name I had in an Atlantean incarnation almost 50,000 years ago. I had been a temple priest in charge of healing. Now that I had been addressed by that ancient name I felt strongly that the mind I was now contacting had once occupied a body which I helped heal during that Atlantean incarnation. I said, "It seems that I remember you from a period in Atlantis which we shared, but how did you remember me so easily?"
   With the conscious Bruno still sleeping I heard his subconscious mind saying, "If I were awake I would have no conscious memory of you. However, with my conscious mind asleep I have been free to observe ever since you entered this ward and began using telepathy to hypnotically persuade the intern to let you accompany him: I watched as you clairvoyantly examined some of the patients, and I remembered that your mind had once been clothed in a body called Azar and had healed me."
   "I wasn't aware that I was being observed," I said.
   "I know," Bruno answered. "Your conscious mind is still extremely limited compared to your Macro potential."
   "But," I asked, puzzled, "how do you know about the Macro potential?"
   "Because, dear and old friend, another cell of my soul is presently experiencing a life in 2150, which you so often visit. Yet another is deeply involved in establishing the separate culture on Micro Island. It needs to experience power and practice using it properly. By 2085 it will be dead, though," he went on.
   "Wait a minute!" I stopped him. "You're here in 1976. You haven't made it to 2000 yet, much less beyond."
   "No, Azar. It's you who have not yet gone beyond. I guess you've not yet truly incorporated the concept of simultaneous time into your growth pattern.
   "Incidentally, I picked up from your mind your plan of attempting to prevent my evolation, which I am not going to let you do. I appreciated your help last time, but this time I don't want it."
   "You mean that you don't want to live any more, and are choosing to die?"
   "That's right," he answered. "And you'll find quite a few other minds in this hospital who are ready to give up their bodies."
   "But why?" I asked. "You've only lived a relatively short time. You must have a family who will miss you."
   Telepathically I heard him laugh and say, "When I incarnated, 45 years ago, I promised myself that I would accomplish my purpose as quickly as possible and then evolate. I've already stayed longer than I had planned."
   "May I ask what your purpose was?" I inquired.
   "I wanted to balance my vibrations. First I chose to be born to a woman who, in my twenty-first-century life, I will probably marry and abandon. In this life as her son I treated her kindly and have taken care of her for the last twenty years since her husband died. Six months ago she followed him."
   "How can you balance negative vibrations you won't even create till fifty years in the future?" I wondered if his mind was deteriorating too.
   "You will find, Azar, that the past, present, and future are all micro terms-illusions which do not exist from a Macro view. All time is simultaneous.
   "Getting on with my answer to your first question, I was a jealous, possessive wife and made my husband's life a living hell. Now for twenty-five years I have been married to a woman who has done the same for me. My two children are grown and married and I leave my wife financially well off; so now I can evolate, having completed my chosen learning experience."
   "But now that you've accomplished your purpose," I said, "why don't you stay around awhile and enjoy life?"
   Again the sound of his laughter echoed through my mind and he said, "I go to a far better place than this planet Earth will ever be! I invite you to visit me when you perfect your astral traveling enough that you can visit some of the non-physical dimensions. 'Bye for now!"
   Bruno's body convulsed; his lids snapped sharply open. Only the after-death tremors lingered. He had evolated. My whole being felt an instant of icy hollowness as I saw, staring up at me from his lifeless face, Nancy's liquid brown eyes.
   Later in 2150 Rana explained that every human mind chooses when it wants to die. This choice, she explained, is not usually made, on the conscious level, but rather on the subconscious or soul level.
   During the rest of the week I discovered that Bruno had been correct when he predicted that many other minds would refuse my offer to help heal their bodies. I was surprised at how many minds insisted on the value of suffering.
   I remember a middle-aged woman who was seriously afflicted with arthritis. When I offered my help her subconscious mind replied, "Please don't remove my pain, for it is the motivation that will eventually force my micro self to give up its narrow selfish life habits which have psychologically crippled others and which are now crippling me. If you remove the pain I will have to start my lesson over, and I'd rather grow now."
   I realized that this woman had never consciously permitted herself to be aware of these thoughts. If she could have heard her subconscious mind talking to me, she would have denied that this was her own greater self talking. When I asked her if she couldn't learn is some less painful way she replied, "I have not yet learned to accept responsibility for the harm I've done to others, so I keep taking the same old life lessons over and over. Eventually the pain will force me to break this "it's not my fault" cycle. Then I can admit my failure, forgive it, learn from it, and overcome it. It's been a long battle, but victory will come."
   When I asked Rana about having to forgive yourself she explained forgiveness as acceptance. She said that when you forgive yourself you positively accept your mistakes and, thus, can learn to succeed and grow from them. However, negative acceptance, resignation, leaves one burdened with guilt until it becomes necessary to escape by inducing amnesia. It is then impossible not to make the same mistake over and over again.
   She was talking about the law of love which transcends the law of karma. Only by completely responding to ourselves with loving acceptance can we look at all the aspects of the self, which includes not only the micro self, but also the Macro self. And we can only see in others what we see in ourselves (even if only in potential) and we can only love (accept) others to the extent that we love (accept) ourselves.
   It wasn't until I had examined every person in our university hospital that I accepted Rana's statement that "all illness and injury is self-inflicted."
   I discovered that I could heal no one unless I could first persuade them to forgive themselves. Yet, I did find quite a few patients who were ready to forgive themselves. All of these healed in record time, causing considerable consternation among hospital personnel.
   Human consternation, I have found, is always the result of a myth being threatened.
   Since I had brought my journal up to date, Karl and Neda were becoming increasingly concerned about my forthcoming visit to Micro Island. Karl kept quoting passages that strengthened his warnings about the dangers involved, and I kept quoting passages that strengthened my resolve to go. Neda insisted that I would succeed and that there was no reason to worry about me. Finally it was obvious even to Neda that her constant assurances that I would succeed were an unfailing indication that she feared the opposite.
   Fortunately, Griff and Judd visited us regularly and kept her occupied. Both were sincerely trying to live a new style of life. They had quit. their motorcycle gang and had taken jobs, Judd at an auto repair shop and Griff with a construction company. They were deeply interested in my further experiences in 2150.
   At last the week ended and early one morning Carol and I said goodbye to our Alpha, our Beta, and most of our Gamma and began our run to the building at the end of the lake. As we passed each Gamma I saw more people than I had ever seen before in 2150, for almost everyone had turned out to send both vocal and telepathic messages of support to us.
   As we approached the large administration building we could see the rest of our Delta gathered around our transair. I was moved by the tremendous outpouring of loving acceptance that many Macro beings could produce. As we made our way to the vehicle I saw standing beside it Rana, Eli, and my beloved Lea.
   I ran to embrace Lea. We stood in complete silence with no one in the crowd making a sound as we fitted our minds into a union that only twin souls can ever attain. To me she was the most exquisitely lovely, completely satisfying woman who had ever lived. Overcome by my feelings and with tears on my face I kissed her gently. Then taking my face in her hands, she kissed me. It was the most enlightening kiss my soul had known since incarnating in matter.
   Then Lea turned, touched Carol's face, and disappeared into the crowd. I shook hands with Hugo, our Delta, and Eli, our Ktar. I remembered seeing him when I met my Alpha members, then in his astral body as he visited his Kton, but I still had not spent further time with him, as I had longed to do. I was convinced that I had never beheld such a handsome and wise-looking man before. He took my hands, then embraced me firmly. He looked deep into my eyes for a long time and said, "You never asked, so, at Rana's request, no one ever told you, but the woman who has been your P.E. tutor is also our Mutar. She is, thus, a member of the Council of Three."
   I must have looked strange, for I know my breath was gone as I remembered C.I. telling me that the Council of Three-which consisted of the three Mutars (leaders of 100 million) was composed of two men and one woman whose decisions were binding on all members of the Macro society.
   I was stunned to learn that my very own tutor, Rana, was that one woman. No wonder her advocacy of level three entrance for me had been accepted. I looked at her with awe and a new sense of restraint.
   She came over to me and took my hand saying, "Now you know why I hoped you would not learn of my other duties. We who have grown up in the Macro society do not feel awe or a sense of distance between us and our leaders. But I know that you were trained differently."
   I found it difficult to say anything, but managed, rather lamely, "Will you still be my tutor when I get back from Micro Island?"
   She said with a smile, "I will be your tutor as long as you both desire it and believe it possible."
   Carol and I walked into our transair and set the sealing doors in motion.
   Eli stepped out from the crowd. In my mind his rich full voice rang as though through a great hall.
   "Thank you for your admiration, Jon. Know that it is returned.
   "You should also know that during your 20th century a soul made a brief sojourn-just 30 years-for the solitary purpose of bearing a child.
   "Having many other duties to tend to, she stayed just long enough to see her young son securely entrusted to the loving care of a soul you now call Karl Johnson."
   The doors met and melded together and as we took off I could hear Eli answering my unspoken question.
   "For what strength it may give you, my beloved son,... I am your mother."

CHAPTER 15: Micro Island

   Three hours later we had traveled some 3700 miles and were approaching the northeastern shore of Micro Island. This large semi-tropical Pacific island had risen out of the ocean during the cataclysmic earth changes of the late 20th century. It was about half the size of 1976's Australia. The Macro society maintained a well-protected base on this eastern coast from which it carried on most of its contacts with the island's interior. Carol had explained that this base, where we were planning to land, was completely protected by an invisible force field which had effectively resisted all attempts to breach it. Now as we came in sight of this Macro society enclave I was startled to see it surrounded on its landward side by thousands of people.
   "What an enormous number of people," I exclaimed. "Do the Micro Islanders usually gather in such numbers outside the Macro society base?"
   "Not that I've heard of," Carol replied. "In fact, Micro Island has a law against coming within ten miles of our base. They used to patrol this zone with policemen and dogs."
   "Well," I said, "either they repealed the law or there are an awful lot of lawbreakers down there."
   The force field was momentarily removed and we descended into a clearing beside a Gamma building which was surrounded by about 1,000 acres of beautifully landscaped gardens and parkland with large swimming pools and recreation areas. As our transair touched down I saw a very tall man leave the building and run toward us. By the time we were on the ground he had reached us, and Carol introduced me to Orion, the Gammar of this base. She had talked with him during the past week via C.I. video, so now they seemed like old friends.
   "Why the crowd?" I asked.
   Orion answered, "It seems that President Elgon Ten has proclaimed an island holiday in honor of your visit. He and his Vice President, Sela Nine, are out there now waiting to greet you. I'm sorry there's no one else from the Macro society here, but all the rest of our Gamma is off in the interior using this holiday as an opportunity to tutor."
   "What happened to the law against coming within ten miles of this base?" Carol asked.
   "In honor of this occasion," Orion explained, "Elgon rescinded it for today."
   "Why did they have a law like that in the first place?" I inquired.
   "That's easy to answer," Orion replied. "Elgon and his assistants are afraid of our influence on their people. They don't want to lose anyone to the Macro society, so any islander who is caught talking with a member of the Macro society is punished severely."
   "Are you that successful in getting recruits for the Macro society from here?" I asked.
   He answered, "We might be if they didn't have that law. Even with it we find about a hundred people each year who are ready to go to the mainland."
   Looking at the crowd packed outside the invisible force field I was surprised at the number of very small children who were permitted to gather among such a crowd without the supervision of their parents.
   "Where are the parents of all those little ones, and why aren't they here looking after them?" I asked Orion.
   "They're there, Jon, right along with the children," he answered. "You're just not used to seeing such large families. Here on Micro Island birth control is strictly forbidden. It's not unusual to see families with fifteen to twenty-five children. The more children a couple has, the greater their prestige."
   "But why don't these people limit the size of their family to just the number of children that they can adequately clothe and care for? Just look at some of them," I remarked.
   "Yes, I know," he replied. "They're the victims of their religions which denounce birth control as a mortal sin. The fact is, however, that Elgon would change that if he thought it would serve his purpose. Of course, it won't, for his purpose, publicly stated, is to outbreed the Macro society so he can justly claim the mainland as his territory."
   "Don't the women get tired of being pregnant all the time?" Carol asked.
   "Yes indeed, they do," Orion answered. "In fact one of our biggest problems with Elgon and his assistants is that they interfere with our distribution of birth control tablets to those who ask for them. You see, both Elgon and his assistants have highly developed telepathic and clairvoyant powers so if a man or woman even desires birth control tablets in their presence they are aware of it and the individual is punished the same as if he had talked to a Macro society member. You probably know that our birth control tablets render the person infertile for anywhere from one to five years, depending on which tablet is taken."
   "In a culture like this it would be a blessing to be physically unable to bear children," Carol observed.
   "Not really, Carol," he explained. "You see, any woman who is unable to bear children is used as a prostitute and forbidden to marry. That really brands her, for marriage is highly revered here. The only cause accepted for divorce is a woman's inability to bear children."
   "I guess if a woman wants a divorce she just takes a pill!" I commented. "But if talking to a Macro society member and taking birth control tablets are both against the law, how do people manage to get the tablets?"
   "They know we are telepaths," Orion answered, "so all they have to do is pass us on the street thinking the request and we'll teleport the tablet of her choice to her when no one is watching. The problem is that one of Elgon's thousand assistants sometimes intercepts the signal. Then the person is immediately dragged away to the nearest public penalty square where... but then, I needn't tell you of their atrocities. You'll see them soon enough."
   My attention went back to the crowd outside the barrier and I remembered that their president, Elgon, and their vice president, Sela, were waiting outside for us. I asked, "Do you think it would be dangerous for Carol and me to go out and meet their president?"
   "Not immediately," he replied. "They plan to give you a royal reception, show you what they believe are the virtues of Micro Island existence, and then try to persuade you to allow them to help you complete your time translation." '
   "Then," I said, "I suppose they feel I'll be so grateful that I'll want to stay here forever among them, right?"
   Orion looked at me very carefully for a moment before he said, "They are very clever and will use every trick they can think of to get you to allow them to complete your time translation. You see, they believe that if this happens before you are level three it will mean that you will regress in awareness and be unable to live happily in the Macro society."
   "Okay," I said, "then it only becomes dangerous for us when they see that I've successfully resisted their persuasion to let them complete my time translation. We'll plan to return here just before that happens."
   I suddenly realized that Orion did not believe that would be possible and was vainly trying to hide his doubts concerning my success with the Micro Islanders. I found myself beginning to share some of his doubts, but I tried to put on a brave smile as I said, "Well, maybe it won't turn out as badly as you think, Orion. But in any event, I must take the risk and grow from the results, whatever they may be. So if you'll be kind enough to open your force field we'll go out and meet President Elgon and the crowd."
   He slowly nodded his assent, then walked with us to the beginning of the force field, where he stopped and turned to us. "Be sure to use the number as their last name. It's very important to them as it represents the level of awareness they profess to have evolved to."
   Looking deeply into Carol's eyes he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. I was somewhat surprised when he turned and gave me the same warmly affectionate farewell.
   He then raised the force field and allowed us to step outside the protected area. Once we had done this, both Carol and I could clairvoyantly see the force field return and knew that we now stood unprotected, except by our own minds, before what looked like the entire population of Micro Island.
   As we stood uncertainly examining the vast throng of humanity that stood before us, a great cheering began and out of the center of the crowd came two of the most dazzling individuals that I had ever seen outside of a rock concert. As they came closer I could see a powerfully built man at least six and a half feet in height and with a massively handsome face as hard as though it had been chipped out of granite. He was dressed in white robes embroidered with blue, yellow, and green stones and thousands of what looked like sequins that sparkled in the noonday sun. This, I thought, must be the president of Micro Island, Elgon "Ten," formerly level seven in the Macro society some 80 years ago.
   He had regressed in awareness level, then added "Ten" to his name and declared himself level ten. He had stopped wearing the aura-reflecting tunic at the same time.
   My attention turned to the woman at Elgon's side who I knew must be Sela "Nine," the regressed level six who had been Elgon's Alpha mate. Since I knew she had left the Macro society 70 years ago, I realized that she must now be well over a hundred years old, yet she didn't look a day over twenty-five. Her beauty was the lush sexually stimulating glitter of a film star.
   She was so powerfully alluring that I felt my whole body tingling in response to the sight of her. Her costume was a stunning and lascivious creation that bared unnaturally large, firm breasts whose uptilted nipples were touched with a glistening red substance. While the upper part of her gown was little more than an open halter, covered with ermine-like fur sprinkled with green emeralds, the skirt was flowing red velvet slit to the waist on both sides to reveal the most voluptuously exciting legs I had ever seen.
   Suddenly Carol's soft laughter echoed through my mind as I heard her thinking to me, "I hope you haven't forgotten about Lea and me already!"
   With more effort than I thought it would take, I shifted my gaze from Sela to Carol and washed my mind in her fresh, clear loveliness. At last I managed a wry smile. "Thanks for pulling me out before I drowned."
   "I was almost overwhelmed by lust for Elgon," Carol admitted. "Then I realized there must be hundreds of his telepathic assistants in this crowd trying to telehypnotize us into believing that we can't live without the sexual pleasure of those two."
   "So that's why-" I began when Carol interrupted me with the warning, "Prepare your mind to be attacked and remember your last Macro contact."
   I had just enough time to begin the process of Macro contact recall when I felt the delicious contact of Sela's body pressed against mine and the incredibly exciting sensation of her wet tongue touching my lips, then slipping inside my mouth.
   Dimly I heard Carol's voice saying, "Please let me go, Elgon. Your overly sexual greetings are not part of our customs, as you well know."
   From somewhere deep within my mind I summoned the strength to push Sela gently but firmly away from me. She smiled a mocking smile, and I noticed that there were dangerous lights dancing– hypnotically in her glorious eyes. They were darker than the darkest night of hell.
   It was not until then that I noticed her magnificent mane of glistening mahogany hair that fell to her waist in rich graceful waves.
   "Welcome to Micro Island," Elgon said in a deep resonant voice that I immediately recognized as being powerfully hypnotic. "I am Elgon Ten, President of Micro Island."
   "Thank you," I managed to respond in a relatively calm voice. "But if you don't want us to turn around immediately to seek sanctuary behind the force field, you'll have to end the hypnotic barrage."
   Elgon locked his eyes with mine and I felt suddenly as if I were teetering on the edge of a dangerous precipice. It took all of my deepest mind strength to overcome the lethal desire to fall into the abyss below. I wrenched my gaze away from his eyes and heard him laughing in a great booming voice. As I turned to Carol he said, "Have no fear, Jon Ten. You have just demonstrated tenth-level awareness by resisting not only the mind of Sela Nine and myself but also of the thousand telepathically, linked minds who were sending their hypnotic suggestions at you. You have succeeded beyond anything we imagined, and I promise you we will make no more futile attempts to control your mind. You are Jon Ten and truly as great as I."
   "Master," Sela cried out, and knelt before me, "let us show you our island and truly answer all your questions so the misconceptions that C.I. has implanted in your mind will be balanced at last by the truth."
   I turned back to Elgon and said, "All right, show us your island."
   Sela was back on her feet and shaking her head, "The invitation to visit our island extends only to you, Jon Ten."
   "I'm sorry, but I must insist on taking Carol with me wherever I go," I said, deliberately addressing this remark to Elgon and ignoring Sela.
   Elgon shrugged his powerful shoulders and said, "Our admiration for you, Jon Ten, is so great that we will bow to your wishes."
   Saying this, he made a signal to the crowd, which immediately parted, allowing us passage to where a large open-topped transair stood. Carol and I followed Elgon and Sela into the rear portion of this conveyance that appeared to have two drivers up front separated from the six-swivel-seated passenger compartment by a glasslike partition. We all took seats except Elgon, who remained standing to accept the cheers of the wildly shouting crowd as our vehicle moved slowly past.
   When we had left the crowd behind, the transair rose to about 300 feet off the ground and proceeded at a very slow pace, possibly 50 miles an hour, toward the interior of the island. Elgon, after a last wave at the distant crowd, seated himself facing us and began telling us about Micro Island. I'll summarize its main features.
   Micro Island had a population of a little over three million and was divided into five states, each of which had its own language, religion, and color. When Elgon assumed the presidency of the island, by virtue of his superior Macro powers, he established firm territorial boundaries for the five states.
   The island was roughly circular in shape and Elgon had divided it into five pie-shaped triangles which allowed the states to have a common center, a circle which covered an area of approximately 75 square miles, belonging to Elgon as supreme leader. When I asked him why he permitted all the divisions into separate states, religions, races, and languages he responded by saying, "The history of the world has proven that man evolves fastest when he is divided so that conflict and competition can encourage growth."
   For a moment I thought he was being facetious, but then I saw the fanatical gleam in his eye and realized that he was dead serious.
   "Oh, I know," he continued, "that the Macro society has brainwashed you into accepting pious ideas of unity and love, but those are illusions at the micro level which we inhabit. If God had wished Macro unity to exist at the micro levels, he would have arranged it that way. On this planet we live on the micro level where conflict and competition are universal laws. Macro man who denies these laws has no place here and will eventually be forced into some other dimension."
   "According to the Macro philosophers," I replied, "it is micro man who has been forced into other dimensions, as this planet has been upgraded from a micro one to a Macro one."
   "Those are lies," he said, "perpetuated by decadent Macro beings trying to destroy the vitality and strength of micro man. But let me show you the exciting, interesting lives our people live and you can compare their existence with the decadent life of the Macro society."
   Elgon must have sent a telepathic message to the driver, for we suddenly swooped close to the ground so that Elgon could point out the many people working in the fields and some nearby factories. Either in the factories, fields, or service jobs Elgon bragged that micro man worked eight hours a day six days a week, which kept him free from the lazy existence of the Macro society.
   I questioned him about the people working in the fields and factories on a day which he himself had proclaimed a national holiday. He responded by saying that only in this area were people working so we could inspect their work if we wanted to. I declined.
   As we came very close to the workers in the fields I was surprised to notice the intense yellow color of their skin as I remembered that the crowds outside the Macro society base had been white. When I asked Elgon about this, he explained that due to the sinful mixing of the races the original colors were no longer pure so they used artificial dyes to provide the five basic skin colors: black, brown, red, yellow, and white. Their five states were named for these colors.
   Our transair landed near a small town that reminded me of a rural community back in the middle 1900s. Elgon opened the door for us and said, "We want you to go talk to the people of this village or any village you wish. We won't go with you, so you'll know that people aren't lying to you just to please us."
   While I had my doubts about how free the people would be to talk with us, we quickly accepted this offer and were soon knocking on one of the first doors on the village outskirts. An elderly woman who looked to be about seventy opened the door. She said she had seen our approach on TV and was proud to be the first we visited. She invited us into a small, sparsely furnished living room and when we were seated on the hard metal chairs, invited me to ask any questions I wished.
   "Tell me about your life," I said.
   She, smiled broadly, revealing ugly twisted teeth, as she said, "We live honest, decent, God-fearing lives. Our men and women get married and stay married and have lots of children and live in a home by themselves, not in some huge evil hotel like they do on the mainland."
   "Why do you dye your skin yellow?" I asked.
   "Because," she explained, "my ancestors had yellow skin until the Macro society polluted us with interracial marriage. Now we must dye our skins to remember our glorious racial heritage. You'll find our yellow state with its yellow religion and yellow language is the nicest state on our island."
   "Wait a minute," I said. "You're speaking the universal language of the Macro society, not the yellow language."
   "We learn the president's language in our schools and on television," she replied proudly, "but we speak only the yellow language in our homes and in our state activities."
   "But why do you want two languages?" I asked.
   "People," she replied," can't be proud and hold their heads up if they have abandoned the language of their ancestors. Our yellow language makes our yellow people in our yellow state with our yellow religion the most unique people in all the world"
   "Tell me about your yellow religion," I requested.
   She gave me another snaggle-toothed smile and said, "According to our yellow religion, when God created, man he used five colors to distinguish the five different kinds of people. The yellow people God created last and best; and ever since, the yellow race has been God's chosen race to show all the other races the God-like way to live."
   Up to now Carol had been deliberately allowing me to ask the questions, but now she said, "I recognize that you honestly believe what you are saying, and I feel that you have an intense dislike for us."
   "Only for you of the Macro society, not for this man," she said, looking scornfully at Carol. "He has come from the great age of micro man when the yellow race had a greater population than any other race. Elgon Ten, our president, says that he hopes you of the Macro society have not yet corrupted Jon beyond saving. It is our responsibility to show him the truth."
   Leaving Carol with a look of disgust she turned to me and smiled maternally as she continued, "We remain true to the ancient virtues of religion, race, language, and the micro family with its decent and respectable moral standards."
   Now she pointed at Carol with a gnarled finger and said, "There stands the whore of ancient Babylon living only for licentious pleasure-godless, childless, parentless, and doomed never to know the holy decency of marriage and the rearing of her own children. She and all her kind are an abomination to this earth. Soon God will destroy these wicked blasphemers."
   "Thank you for-talking with us," I said, "but we'd better leave now. Your president is outside and we wouldn't want to keep him waiting."
   She walked us to the door wishing happiness and truth for me and ignoring Carol. We returned to the transair and I asked to visit another state. We were soon in the air. A transparent top had been raised over the car so that we could travel at a very-high rate of speed. On our journey to the next state it was Sela's turn to regale us with the marvels of Micro Island.
   She began by pointing out to me that every individual had the right to have children and that women were faithful to their husbands.
   "Tell me, Sela Nine," I said, "are you faithful to Elgon Ten?"
   She laughed and then said, "I am not married, because the Macro society destroyed my ability to have children."
   "According to C.I., Sela Nine, you chose permanent sterilization, and you could still choose otherwise," Carol inserted. "C.I. also said that women who can't or won't bear children are treated as prostitutes here on Micro Island."
   Sela gave Carol a look of revulsion and then turned back to me with a smile and said, "The Macro society developed the greatest store of lies in all history and then built a machine called C.I. to disseminate them."
   "Then you don't have prostitutes?" I asked.
   "Of course we have prostitutes," she replied. "Micro man has always needed sexual variety. It's the oldest profession women have ever known. We are true to the ancient micro customs which permit man to have anything he's willing to pay for. Of course, like many other pleasures, it's illegal to patronize a prostitute."
   "What do you mean, 'like other pleasures'?" I asked.
   "We have laws against many pleasures so that our people will appreciate them and work hard to earn enough money to afford them," Sela answered.
   "You mean you encourage crime bypassing laws that you know will be broken?" I asked incredulously.
   "Of course," she replied. "Hasn't it always been so? It's one of our best sources of revenue. Besides, look at the history of the world. Crime is an essential ingredient in micro life. It makes life exciting and interesting. After all, you can't have conflict and competition if you don't have the right kind of laws."
   "You seem to mean that you and Elgon Ten have organized crime so that it benefits you and your followers," I commented.
   "That's right, Jon Ten. That's how it's always been," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders that set her lush bare breasts to jiggling in a way I struggled to ignore. "But it benefits everyone because our organized crime provides everyone who is willing to pay for it the most delicious pleasure of all-rebellion and revolt-which is what breaking a law is all about. Micro man has always thrived on it."
   "It's hard for me to believe that the two of you could have grown up in the Macro society, attained high levels of Macro awareness, and then given it all up for this," I remarked.
   "But, Jon Ten," Sela cried out, "we didn't give up our awareness. We developed it further. I am now level nine; Elgon is ten. You don't understand. What we left behind was only boredom. Here there is the delicious excitement of forbidden fruits being fought over and taken by the strong and courageous. I tell you, Jon Ten, without pride and conflict life is so deadly dull that it's not worth living."
   "You must have forgotten," I said, "that I came from the world of 1976 where conflict and competition were polluting and destroying this planet."
   "We haven't forgotten," she replied, "that as long as competition and conflict were allowed free reign there was no great danger of pollution or overpopulation because the strong survived and the weak perished or lived lives of minimum consumption and pollution."
   "But," I said, "aren't all your assistants with Macro powers called controllers, and aren't you limiting and controlling conflict and competition for your own interests?"
   "Of course we are," she replied candidly, "because we are the strong, and the strong always control if they aren't shackled by a mythology of love, equality, and unity."
   "You must recognize that no social, organization, including your micro society, can survive without cooperation," I stated.
   "Yes," she agreed, "we cooperate so that we can better enjoy the fruits of conflict and competition."
   Our conversation was interrupted at this point by our landing near a small town in the red state. Carol and I got out and this time walked all the way through this community of generally small unattractive houses. There were, however, a few larger homes, so we selected one of the largest and most ostentatious in the community. Before we knocked on the door Carol commented on the very few people we had seen in, the streets, which were almost deserted. Before I could knock on the door it was opened by a short middle-aged man with a large well-fed stomach and bright red skin. He welcomed us into a large and lavishly appointed living room saying that everyone was watching our progress on the TV, interspersed with the gladiator games from the capital city of Elgonia.
   "Well," I said as we sat down in luxuriously comfortable form-hugging chairs, "I suppose that accounts for the absence of people outside. But tell us about the gladiator games you mentioned."
   His face lit up and he grinned broadly, revealing a beautiful set of obviously false teeth. "They're great!" he said. "Our state gladiators represent us in the games. This gives us a chance to demonstrate our superiority."
   "You mean red gladiators fight gladiators of other colors?" I asked.
   "Yes," he replied, "but we have many types of competition besides the individual sword fights, fist fights, or wrestling that gladiators performed in the past. We have team conflicts that include football, baseball, and basketball as well as larger conflicts such as capture the flag."
   "Well," I said, "I remember playing a game by that name when I was a boy. How does your version go?"
   "When we practice it locally," he explained, "we use fewer gladiators, but when it involves interstate-competition the standard team size is 100 men who play on a standard size C.F. field of 1,000 square yards. The object of the conflict is to capture the other state's flag. We use both sword teams and bare-handed teams."
   "You mean that you actually kill each other in these contests?" I asked.
   "Of course," he replied, "but since the gladiators can wear armor in the sword contests, not very many are killed-only ten or twelve a week but they're still the most exciting contests we have."
   "How often," Carol asked, "do you watch these games?"
   "Since we work six days a week, and must attend church on Sunday morning, that leaves our evenings and Sunday afternoons for watching the games," he replied.
   "My God!" I exclaimed. "Don't you get tired of watching that much fighting?"
   He laughed, then said, "There's one thing that we red men never get tired of, and that's fighting!"
   "But isn't that sort of brutality against your religion?" I inquired.
   "The red religion holds that God created four races of men and was disappointed," he explained. "Then he created the red race to fight for the glory of God. We are the chosen race to lead all other races by our dedication to courage and our loyalty to our race and to God."
   "Sounds strangely familiar," Carol commented quietly to me.
   "Scoff if you like, decadent woman," he replied angrily, "but our women are proud to bear us warriors, and they are decently married to one man."
   Sensing that it might be wise to change the subject, I asked, "As a representative of the chosen red race how do you manage to accept a leader like Elgon, whose skin is certainly not red?"
   "It's true that his redness doesn't show," he explained, "but the soul of our president is red. He wears his skin white in sympathy for the weakness of the white race."
   "Then how do you know his soul is red?" I asked.
   "Because when we asked him, he replied that he would never deny it," was-his response.
   That Elgon was a sly one, I thought to myself. Then I decided to ask one more question before leaving. "Tell me," I said, "what do you do that allows you to live in such a large home and in such luxury?"
   "I was hoping that you would ask," he said, grinning proudly. "You see, on Micro Island courage, hard work, and a good head for business are rewarded. When I was young I was the most famous gladiator on the island, and I earned a great deal of money which I invested in land and various business ventures. Today I own half the houses in our village and most of the acreage surrounding it.
   "Aren't you afraid," Carol asked as she glanced at the valuable articles in the room, "that you might be robbed of some of your wealth?"
   He laughed rather scornfully and said, "We believe in the value of personal property, so we have law and order. Every tenth person on our island is a police official and we take great pride in our ability as crime fighters. I myself was appointed personally by President Elgon Ten as one of the ten top law officers in our Red State."
   Carol couldn't help but insert, "Micro Island is the only place in the world where police are needed, because it's the only place in the world where crime exists. If you didn't place so much importance on personal properties, you wouldn't need to waste all that manpower on policing your people."
   The fat red face of our host grew even redder as he glowered at her saying, "Great personal wealth has always gone to the strong, courageous, and clever people who are willing to take risks and live exciting and rewarding lives."
   Now he sneered openly at Carol as he said, "Your Macro society has destroyed all sense of decency or pride in its members by encouraging every vice imaginable and by denying all the virtues-courage, loyalty to one's race, accumulation of personal wealth."
   Getting to his feet and waddling furiously about the room he shouted, "Never in the history of our world has such evil, wicked, godlessness been permitted to flourish. But God is not mocked forever! You and all your godless, cowardly breed will soon perish from the face of this earth"
   I figured we'd better leave before our host worked himself into some sort of apoplectic stroke. I thanked him for his time and we hastily took our leave, and arrived back at the transair feeling rather depressed at what our host had revealed to us. There was no doubt in our minds that he fervently believed the things he had told us. No one had forced us to choose his home to visit.

   Once we were airborne again, Elgon began questioning me about my impressions so far. When I told him quite honestly that I had been depressed by what I had seen, he seemed genuinely sad and shook his great head of long, curly black hair back and forth a number of times before he said, "I'm sorry to hear that the Macro society has already so poisoned your mind against us that you can't see how proud and happy our people are, living free and decent lives."
   "Elgon Ten," I asked, "do you really think that everyone-even the poor and unhealthy-is happy here on Micro Island?"
   Elgon replied in an extremely sincere and persuasive manner saying, "What you don't understand, Jon -Ten, is that the most' important thing for man is not wealth, or health, or even fame, but personal pride-the feeling that he is better than the others."
   He paused now to let this sink into my mind before continuing, "We here on Micro Island have provided man with many opportunities for personal pride; his own family, his own race, his own religion, his own language, his own property, and his own state. All of these the Macro society has denied man and, by so doing, reduced the life of its members to a state of such monumental boredom that they don't care whether they live or die. They come to Micro Island and break our laws so they can have at least the satisfaction of dying in an exciting way even if they can't live that way."
   Now it was my turn to shake my head. "I'm sorry, but I just can't see it that way, Elgon."
   "I don't ask you to believe what I say," he responded. "Just believe what your eyes and ears tell you. Talk to more of our people. Talk to the poor ones. Talk to what you call the losers in our system. Why, I tell you, the most miserable cowardly loser on our island has more self-pride and joy in living than any person you'll ever meet in the Macro society. But don't take my word for it, see and hear for yourself."
   I agreed to do as Elgon suggested and talk with some more people, so he dropped us off beside a village in the Brown State. Here Carol and I talked with a mother and father of 18 children. The mother was only 36. She had married at 12 and had her first child at 14 followed by the birth of one child each year thereafter-18 of them lived.
   This family was very poor. Their house was small and they slept seven to a bed. However they were very proud of their family and the fact that the five eldest sons were in training to be gladiators. The whole family worked as tenant farmers, which did not supply them with enough money to survive, so the two eldest daughters had been working as prostitutes for the past several years to supplement the family income. The whole family was very proud of these two girls.
   Their health, by Macro society standards, was atrocious. The mother with two babies at her breasts looked a pale and sickly 50, yet she had told me proudly that she was 14 years younger than that. The father at 39 looked younger than the mother, though most of his teeth were rotten stumps and his body looked bloated with unhealthy fat. In contrast, most of the-swarming children looked very skinny, but with complexions just as pallid as their parents.
   When we arrived at their home, they were all happily watching the gladiators fighting on TV, which I learned every family purchased even if it had money for nothing else. They were pathetically proud of their dyed-brown skin, their brown religion, and their brown language, their brown state, which had the bravest and strongest gladiators in the world-according to them.
   Once again we got the bit about God creating four races and being disappointed, so he created the brown race to show all the others how to live loyal, courageous, and God-fearing lives. They believed it, and were pathetically happy that they had had the great good fortune to be born as God's chosen people.
   Instead of being scornful of Carol, this family were genuinely sorry for her great misfortune at having been born into the Macro society. They honestly pitied this beautiful and healthy young girl.
   When I asked them if they weren't unhappy with their poverty, the father said, "We pity the rich, for they no longer have the glorious hope of obtaining riches. We have the exciting incentive of gaining wealth, and soon when our sons enter the games the money will begin rolling in. You see, we have every reason to be happy with our lives."
   Carol and I left on that note feeling again depressed but no longer surprised that Elgon would want us to visit as many people as possible. It was becoming obvious that he was showing off the results of the most successful propaganda machine ever created.
   Later as we were flying to the Black State I asked Elgon if he had any idea what the average life-span was on Micro Island.
   "Yes," he replied. "Men live on the average of about 53 years and women about 52. Of course, you think that's terrible, but, again, let me remind you, Jon Ten, that it is not how long you live, or how much comfort and security you have that really counts. No, in the long run, it's how much pride you can take in your life and how much excitement you've had along the way."
   "I don't deny," I said, "that you've been successful at persuading your people into believing what you are saying. My wonder is that even a hundred a year leave your island."
   "Those are the older ones," Elgon explained, "who haven't had the advantages of all the improvements that Sela Nine, I, and our thousand controllers have instituted in the past 30 years. I spent the first 40 years here just getting things organized, but now our micro society is more exciting and interesting for everyone."
   "You mean it's taken you 70 years to set up an almost perfect propaganda machine that persuades everyone to think as you want them to think," I observed.
   Elgon merely smiled his imperious smile and suggested that I visit with more of his people. This we did, but the next two families, one black and one white, gave us the same old story. They were proud of their skin color, their religion, their language, their family, and their glorious state. Naturally they were happy to be God's chosen people and they were out to produce as many of their race as possible. The black family had 18 children, while the white family, due to multiple births, was the recordholder with 53 children.
   The incredibly prolific white mother mentioned the growing problem with outlaws who refused to accept the wisdom of Elgon Ten and entertained the blasphemous ideas of the Macro society. She said it was the other states that had the biggest problem with this (naturally).
   I began to suspect that Elgon had landed us close to "safe" communities in which he knew the inhabitants were brainwashed. I was happy to hear that people who were seeking out the ideas of the Macro society were a big problem.
   I did, however, learn some interesting things from the black family. Since the father was a lawyer he explained that next to being a gladiator, being a lawyer was the most prestigious and best-paying job on Micro Island. This, he said, was because of the masses of conflicting laws. He admitted that there were so many laws covering so many life areas that everyone broke at least two or three laws every day. Of course, if one had a clever lawyer there was no problem. However, since each state had different laws, it was extremely dangerous to travel in another state. Lawyers couldn't practice in any other state, and you were sure to break some of the other state's laws. Then your different skin color would put you at a tremendous disadvantage.
   I was fascinated to hear this lawyer defend their legal system in which the rich could hire lawyers to give them virtual immunity from the law, while the poor were constantly suffering from lack of legal representation. As he spoke I realized that their legal system was not much different from that of 1976, where the poor were a hundred times more likely to go to jail than the rich and were the only ones ever to suffer from capital punishment.
   He explained that since the rich were obviously more valuable to the state than the poor, it was only natural that they would be able to buy greater justice. However, he carefully pointed out that the law had no favorites-it was strictly a matter of hiring a good attorney and, thus, staying in good with the government. I realized that the micro government of 2150 would applaud the actions of my government back in 1976 which fought inflation by creating– unemployment among the poor and allowed a third of its people to live in poverty while it spent billions to support corrupt governments thousands of miles from its shores. But, then, like attracts like, and corrupt governments have always tended to support other corrupt governments.
   After having visited all five states, Elgon said we were ready to visit the capital city in the center of the island where all the states came together. During our flight there I asked Elgon about the island's school system. He replied that for almost 90 percent of the children formal education started at five and ended at twelve. Full-time work in the fields, factories, and stores began at this age along with the universal obligation to marry and start having children. It was possible to continue formal education in the gladiatorial, law, or medical schools if sufficient tests were passed. Since these schools were open at night, young people who passed the tests could work during the day and study at night. The wealthy had no problems, for they could hire teachers to guarantee successful passing of all the tests except those of the gladiators.
   When I asked about the state and local governments I discovered that only lawyers could hold government positions-sometimes as many as four or five of them at a time. As for Elgon's national island government, all 10,000 positions were appointed by Elgon or Sela and the most important of these-over 1,000-positions were filled with ex-members of the Macro society. I commented on this, saying, "You obviously value the Macro society environment in that it produced your best and most trusted leaders. Doesn't this contradict what you are saying about Micro Island? After all, if life was so good here it ought to produce your best leaders."
   Elgon laughed at this and said, "As long as the Macro society develops individuals with Macro powers who later-get so bored and fed up with life there that they want to join me here, then I won't have to worry about setting up tutoring systems here to develop those powers."
   "But obviously you don't get people with highly developed Macro powers or you wouldn't consider me at the tenth level when I am really only at the second level," I observed.
   Elgon merely changed the subject by pointing ahead to his capital city of Elgonia.
   "Take a look at it," he said, "and realize it's the only large city in the world, because the Macro society refuses to allow its members the joys of city living."
   I looked down and saw a very small city compared with 1976 standards, for it had only 30,000 inhabitants, and a quarter of these worked for Elgon's government. Over 100,000 people worked in Elgonia, but since the presidential territory, of approximately ten miles in diameter, was stateless, most workers preferred to live in their states and commute. There were many government buildings in the center of the city surrounding the magnificent presidential palace that looked somewhat like the Taj Mahal of India.
   Elgon Ten was obviously very proud of his capital city and talked at some length on the importance of his strong central government. He rattled off a long list of governmental agencies such as an agency of agriculture, commerce, labor, games, law, education, and intelligence, to name a few. I was particularly interested in the fact that Elgon had nine different intelligence agencies for gathering information about his people. When I questioned him about their functions, however, he replied that intelligence agencies functioned best when their operations were completely secret and, therefore, he couldn't talk about them, even to me. Then he surprised me by saying, "However, Jon Ten, as soon as you join our government I'll make you a Vice President and tell you all about our intelligence operations."
   "Thank you, Elgon Ten," I said, declining his invitation, "but I plan to remain in the Macro society."
   He laughed a big booming laugh and said, 'You still think that someone who grew up in the micro society of the 20th century can live happily in the Macro society. Believe me, Jon Ten, if I who spent my first 50 years in the Macro society couldn't stand it, you won't be able to, either!"
   "It was your pride and desire for personal power that made you dislike the Macro society," Carol said to Elgon. "Jon doesn't want personal power, so your offer of high position in your government doesn't interest him."
   Elgon's face tightened its granite hardness, and I became aware of a heightened redness in his aura. However, he replied calmly that Carol was too young to understand the delights of micro existence.
   Our transair landed in the beautiful courtyard of the presidential palace, where Elgon insisted on giving us a personally guided tour of his glittering domain.
   As we walked through his gardens my enjoyment of their beauty was marred by my memory of the faces of the dozens of poorly fed children we had seen during the day. Finally I interrupted Elgon to ask how the people managed to produce such huge families. He explained that people could buy fertility pills that would insure multiple births. Large families were not only a source of great pride and a religious and state duty, but also an economic advantage, since children of twelve or over could earn money by becoming gladiators or prostitutes.
   An hour later I had seen enough of the lavishly appointed rooms, hallways, and courtyards filled with rare and precious possessions that Elgon and Sela doted on. Elgon recognized my growing restlessness and escorted us to a sumptuous suite of rooms which he said I could occupy as long as I wished. Then he and Sela left us alone with a reminder that they would see us at dinner:
   Once we were alone I threw myself onto the giant canopied bed and said, "I'm tired of Micro Island already, and I'm especially tired of Elgon Ten and Sela Nine. Let's take a quick nap so I can get through the evening."
   Carol didn't reply immediately and I saw that she was standing pensively chewing on her lower lip. For the first time I saw the sparkling pink in her aura give way to the red of anxiety. I reached out to establish mind contact and discovered her mental struggle with some sort of doubt that she kept trying to hide from me.
   "Please, Carol," I pleaded, "tell me what's bothering you. I've never known you to try to hide your thoughts from me."
   She shook her head slowly and finally, with a sigh of resignation, said, "It's going to start sooner than Rana thought." Then she looked away from me.
   "Ok, Carol, don't keep me in suspense," I implored. "What's going to happen sooner than Rana thought?"
   "I'm not sure," she answered, taking my hand. "Rana thought they would wait two or three days before putting heavy pressure on you. But I have a strong premonition that something. unpleasant is going to happen very soon."
   I knew that Carol's precognitive power was much more sensitive than mine, so I said, "Are you sure you don't have any idea what this unpleasantness is going to be?"
   Carol looked at me for a long moment, then with a soft cry she buried her face in my shoulder. A moment later we were devouring each other with kisses. Soon our desire for greater oneness was more than we could resist and slipping out of our tunics we began the joyous love play that only two closely attuned souls can ever know. Suddenly with clairaudient awareness I could hear the beat of our soul notes mounting in intensity as our bodies and minds sought ever closer oneness till we attained the ecstasy of Macro immersion.
   Later as we swam lazily about in the mammoth sunken pool of our bathroom I remembered that Carol had never answered my last question about her premonition. I decided that if she didn't want to tell me I wouldn't press her. Immediately upon making this decision I received her telepathic note of thanks.
   Back in our bedroom we discovered that our aura reflecting tunics had been replaced by a beautiful golden tunic covered with flashing jewels for Carol and a gleaming white fabric one for me.
   Carol seemed to have recovered her usual sunny disposition and, having quickly donned her new tunic, was complaining about its extraordinary weight when five male servants, representing each of the five races of the micro states, came to escort us to dinner.
   The dining room in Elgon's palace was large enough to easily accommodate two standard-sized football fields placed side by side, and it was almost completely filled with men and women in stunningly handsome uniforms and beautifully lavish gowns.
   We were escorted to a raised platform at one end of this room where Elgon and Sela were sitting at a small table facing the other much longer tables in this vast dining room. It had been filled with the sounds of many voices when we entered, but was now becoming quiet.
   By the time Elgon and Sela had seated Carol and me between them the great room was gripped in funeral-like silence and somehow my mind felt like it was in a giant vise that was slowly, inexorably being squeezed tighter and tighter. I became aware of Elgon making a speech of welcome in my honor, but my head felt like bands of steel were crushing it. I realized dimly that Carol, too, was suffering this mind pressure. The rest of the evening was a blur of interminable dishes of strange foods being served along with different beverages; most of which I rarely sampled. I was aware of Elgon and Sela talking to me and that I obviously gave appropriate responses, for they seemed very pleased, but I have no memory of what anyone said. The last thing I remember of that evening was following our five servant escorts back to our room, where Carol and I immediately lay down on the bed without even removing our clothes.
   I found myself back in 1976 groping for the night light, which revealed that it was three o'clock in the morning. I was not able to banish the dark fear in my mind. Why was I so frightened, I wondered. Nothing had happened to either Carol or me which could account for my strange feeling of anxiety and dread.
   I shook my head in an attempt to clear it and remembered the feeling of great pressure on my head during the dinner with Elgon. I wondered what had caused that excruciating sensation that had effectively blotted out most of my awareness during the dinner. As I pondered this question I felt the answer beginning to rise to consciousness from some great depth in my mind. I waited until a picture of the dining room began to form in my mind. This picture was filled with hundreds of faces which were empty except for a single eye brightly staring at me from many foreheads. It was the symbol of the telepathic mind net which Elgon had focused on me again.
   But why did I still feel a crushing sense of anxiety and fear? Then I felt almost overwhelmed by a driving need to return to 2150 and discover if Carol was all right. Of course, the harder I tried to put myself asleep the more wide awake I became, until I realized that I must calm myself by balancing my mind with acceptance of what is as perfect. Failing that, I attempted Macro contact recall. A few minutes later, having succeeded in this attempt, I slipped gently into sleep and awakened back in 2150 to find myself lying alone, still dressed, in the great canopied bed.
   I was on my feet instantly, running through the five huge rooms of our suite calling Carol's name, but there was no answer. I decided to find Elgon and demand an explanation. As I plunged into the hallway I came face to face with at least 30 ex-members of the Macro society who were easily recognizable by their great size. I asked them to tell me where I could find Elgon Ten but they made no reply-only stared intently into my eyes. Then again I felt the great vise exert almost blinding pressure on my skull. I quickly staggered back into my room, desperately closing the door between me and those penetrating eyes.
   The pressure on my mind was still increasing, and I found it difficult to maintain consciousness. I staggered back to the bed, falling full length upon it. Suddenly I realized that my mind had become disconnected from my body and realized what it must be like to suffer total paralysis. I became aware of others in the room and that I was being undressed. Then I felt myself being carried into the bathroom and hurled into the deep end of the huge sunken pool. I sank quickly below the surface and began to see how long I could hold my breath while at the same time struggling to overcome my strange paralysis. I'm not sure how long I continued this futile struggle, but eventually I began to realize that I would have to use my PK powers to float my body to the surface with my face above the water. Once I began concentrating on this effort I discovered that my paralysis was quickly leaving me. My head broke the surface of the water.
   Whether Elgon's telepathic mind net had released me I did not know, but now my paralysis was completely gone. I swam easily about, taking deep breaths of precious air into my lungs.
   When I returned to the bedroom I found Sela lying naked on top of the bed. She was obviously amused at my startled expression, for she laughed, then said, "Don't look so surprised, Jon Ten. Elgon Ten and I have decided that if you are going to learn to appreciate the unique virtues of Micro Island you should be permitted to sample its greatest pleasure-me."
   As she said this last word she arched her lush naked body so that her huge firm breasts were thrust invitingly straight at me. She rolled the tip of her pink tongue over her full red lips leaving them glistening in quivering wetness. Then she began to slowly undulate her pelvis and breathe in short panting breaths.
   Suddenly my mind was again gripped in the crushing vice of the thousand-mind telepathic net which Elgon directed. I quickly lost control of my body and watched horrified as it took on a life of its own and walked over to the bed, climbed into Sela's arms and began caressing her body. At that moment my body returned to my control and I became fully aware of the awesome sensuous power of the velvety voluptuous body which now clung to me in a fervid passionate embrace.
   For a long moment I burned with lust that seemed to consume all other desires. I felt myself sinking into a bottomless sea of dark red waves.
   If I had never experienced Macro immersion and if I had not now remembered the infinite perfection of the embrace of my twin soul, Lea, I am sure that Sela would have won. From then on, I would have followed her about as a dog follows a bitch in heat. But as I teetered on the brink of that sea of lust my mind filled to overflowing with the picture of my beloved Lea.
   I thrust a maniacally screaming Sela away from me and left the bed, walked across the room, and seated myself in one of the high-backed ornate chairs.
   Lea and I had won the first battle.
   For a few moments Sela flung herself about on the bed and gave vent to screaming, howling rage. Then suddenly the storm passed and she was sitting up smiling at me saying, "Next time, Jon Ten, it will be my turn to win, and you can be sure there will be a next time."
   I shook my head. "No, Sela," I said. "Elgon's telepathic mind net with its thousand minds may take over my body and force it to touch you, but know, Sela, that my mind will never choose to wallow in temporal micro pleasures, which are all you have to offer."
   For a moment her eyes burned with dark lights, then she looked away and said, "I am Sela Nine. You seem to have forgotten your manners. Have you also forgotten your Alpha mate Carol Three?"
   "No, I haven't," I said. "But are you willing to tell me what you and Elgon 'Ten' have done with her?"
   Telepathically, I had picked up from Sela's mind only that Carol had been drugged and was being held somewhere in the palace. I was not about to admit that I knew even this. Before Sela answered me, the door opened and Elgon entered the room accompanied by three female servants who went immediately to Sela and began helping her into a jewel-encrusted tunic. I was still naked and asked that my own tunic be returned to me. Elgon merely smiled and said, "Only micro man feels uncomfortable when he is naked. Had you already forgotten?"
   I ignored this and asked when I could see Carol.
   "That," Elgon replied, "depends on how soon you will allow us to help you complete your time translation."
   "Why is it so important to you to complete my translation?" I asked.
   Elgon laughed and said, "I'm sure you must know that as the first person to transcend time and occupy a mentally created human physical body you are very famous.
   "We know that the Macro society has denied you permanent time translation unless you attain third-level awareness, which is impossible in the time available. The people of Micro Island will be pleased to save a fellow micro being."
   "And you will be happy to thwart the Macro society," I replied.
   "Of course," he answered. "But now we will leave you to think over how soon you want us to help you become a permanent resident of Micro Island."
   "That will be never," I answered.
   Again he laughed and said, "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Jon Ten. I have a precognitive hunch that you'll change your mind before the next two weeks are over."
   He turned and walked to the door accompanied by Sela and her three servants. As he walked out of the room he called back to me over his shoulder saying, "You might watch the video screen in your room, Jon Ten. It will help you pass the time."
   With these words the door closed behind him and, I noticed that the six-foot-square video screen -on the wall opposite the bed had been activated. On it I saw a picture of Carol lying on the floor of a barren room.
   I was across the room with a bound examining the video picture more closely. Carol was dressed as she had been at the dinner the previous evening. She was obviously unconscious, but with her hands folded across her chest and with the absence of color in the black-and-white picture she gave the appearance of being dead. At first there had been no sound associated with this picture, but now the audio came on with Elgon's voice saying, "Your friend, Carol Three, is in a drug-induced catatonic trance. She will remain in this state until you choose to cooperate with us or until she dies."
   The audio portion ended with this message, but the picture remained as a constant reminder of Elgon's threat.
   For the rest of the day I wandered about in my suite of five rooms trying to think of some way to rescue Carol and get back to the Macro society.
   I tried to make mind contact with Carol's subconscious mind, but Elgon's telepathic mind net always stopped me as they did when I twice attempted to go into the outside hallway. I didn't feel desperate, however, because I was convinced that if I asked for help from the Macro society their superior Macro powers would free us both from Elgon's control.
   By late evening I was beginning to feel depressed by the sight of Carol's unconscious body on the video screen. I had taken two food tablets during the day so I wasn't hungry, but nevertheless, I had a hollow sinking feeling inside of me that seemed like a premonition of death. But whose death-Carol's or mine, or both?
   Finally, I decided to go to sleep so I could return to 1976 and talk my situation over with Karl-my guardian -and Neda. I went to sleep but I didn't awaken in 1976. I had a dream.
   In this dream I was lying in the barren room beside Carol's body. I seemed to be paralyzed because no matter how hard I tried I couldn't move any part of my body. At last, exhausted from my efforts, I lay back and stared at the face of Lea, which had appeared floating above me. I telepathically asked for her help, but she shook her head saying, "Think carefully, Jon, before you ask for help. I must remind you that if we help you, it will be impossible for you to attain third-level awareness soon enough for us to complete your time translation."
   "All right," I said, "but then help Carol. Take her back to the mainland."
   Again Lea shook her head. "I can't do that unless she requests it, and so far she has asked to remain with you even if it means her death."
   Then I found myself suddenly awake back in 1976 shouting, "Don't let her die, Leal Don't let her die!"