Carol told me that I would soon receive my own mib. Then she asked me if I would like to see pictures of our other Alpha members. Of course I did, so she asked C.I. to present them.
Suddenly I was looking at a picture of our leader, Alan, whose voice I had just heard. At the same time C.I. was telling me about him.
“Your Alpha leader, Alan, is 20.6 years old, six feet five inches tall (this, along with his weight, was given in metric equivalents, then translated for My benefit), 240 pounds, and is presently residing in the student Gamma of Delta 927.”
Carol interrupted C.I. at this point to tell me that we could listen for days to the accumulated information that C.I. had on every individual member of our Alpha. This information, she said, even included data on past lives. However, she felt that I probably was not ready for too much information on each member yet.
It was here that she pointed out that all information on every person in the Macro society was available to everyone. There was no such thing as secret, hidden, or confidential information.
I commented that my government in 1976 could not possibly function without massive secrecy. Then I looked at a video tape of Alan leading a discussion group, running, walking, swimming, playing games, and sleeping. He looked tremendously vital and intelligent. When I commented on this, Carol said he was a Six, as if that explained it all.
We next saw pictures of Bonnie, who was Alan’s Alpha mate. She was six feet two and weighed 160 pounds. Next was six‑foot‑seven Adam with Nancy who was six feet three. They were followed by Diane and David who were six feet one and six feet five respectively. Then came the tallest man of all, Steve, at six feet nine, and his Alpha mate, Joyce, who was six feet three. Finally C.I. presented pictures of Carol and Jon, and I realized the pictures of me had been taken while I was in the library and walking with Lea.
I was impressed with the sheer physical size and beauty of my fellow Alpha members. I was also surprised at the lack of hair. Of the five males my hair was the longest, and it was short by 1976 standards. Even among the girls the longest hair was Carol’s, which was no more than four inches at most.
When I asked Carol about this she informed me that they did not value hair because they were not vain about their appearances. It was simpler, she assured me, to keep their hair short.
“Tell me, Carol,” I asked “are there any fat or ugly people in the Macro society?”
She laughed and said, “How could there be, when we control the complete genetic, physical, and mental development of all our children?”
“All right, but why, then, do you have your different levels of awareness? How come everyone isn’t level ten?”
“Because,” Carol answered, “we can not change the learning experiences of past lives. However, no soul can incarnate into the Macro society who has not evolved to Macro potential.”
“Even me?”
Carol smiled. “Oh, Jon. Even our wisest ones could not have succeeded in helping Lea bring you here if you didn’t have the Macro potential.”
“Let me try to understand these levels of awareness,” I said. “I’m level one because I’m a beginner at Macro awareness.”
“That’s right, Jon. You’re well on your way back toward applied awareness of your oneness with all that is, all that was, and all that ever will be.”
“And Adam and Nancy have demonstrated second level awareness,” I continued. “You are at the third level along with Steve, while Bonnie and Joyce are level four. Then we have Diane and David at level five and Alan, our leader, at the sixth level. Now, tell me, what’s the difference between these levels?”
“I’ll let C.I. answer that,” Carol said. “And while you are getting your questions answered, I will go back and pick up your mib from the administration building.”
I had a mental picture of the map which C.I. had shown me of the Delta and I suddenly realized Carol was talking about a ten‑mile round trip. “You mean you are going to walk ten miles?” I asked.
She said, “Oh, I could have it sent by underground pneumatic tube. right here to our Alpha, but since I missed our exercise period today I’ll run the distance. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
“Ten miles in less than an hour?” I asked incredulously.
“Don’t worry, Jon. Our Macro powers help us run lighter, faster, longer, and more joyously than would ever be possible for micro man.”
“Don’t you have any kind of local transportation?” I asked incredulously.
“Unless it’s a great emergency,” Carol replied, “we walk or run everywhere in the Delta and sometimes even between Deltas. Sure, we have transairs that will take us very quickly anywhere we want to go on this planet, but we believe in a balanced life free from the neurotic rushing of your micro society. We believe in exercising the body, the mind, and the spirit equally so they can remain in balance.”
With those last words she blew me a kiss and literally ran out of the room. Not because she was in a hurry, but from sheer joy of exercising a magnificent healthy and vital body. I was pleased that she shared my joy in running, and I understood better why no one would become fat in this energetic society.
Turning back to the video screen, I began asking my questions about levels of awareness and found that C.I. kept an almost total record on every person in the Macro society from birth to death. This was done by means of the Macro identity bracelet and the yearly evaluation performed by C.I.
One’s level of awareness was indicated by the color of his tunic. The tunic, I learned, was a perfectly accurate reflection of one’s aura, which was an unfailingly accurate indicator of one’s state of being, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically.
Level one was predominantly gray: two was lemony orange for energy; three was pink for control of that energy; four was purple for empathy and leadership; five was violet for joyous acceptance of what is; six was yellow for love in its most total sense; seven was green for healing; eight was blue for balanced use of the intellect; nine was aquamarine for wisdom; and ten was white for leadership, the perfectly balanced blend of all other levels.
According to C.I. there were currently only one hundred and twenty‑seven persons in the Macro family who were evaluated as having demonstrated ten degrees of Macro awareness. This was out of a current Macro family population of 300 million.
These degrees of awareness were based on the extent to which a person demonstrated the three Macro qualities: love, wisdom, and leadership, in that order of importance, and the seven Macro powers: clairvoyance, telepathy, precognition, retro cognition, psycho kinesis, telekinesis, and astral projection. [See C.I. Excerpts].
As C.I. presented more and more information about the highly complex process of developing degrees of awareness I found myself becoming very drowsy and having difficulty keeping my eyes open. Finally I gave in to my desire to rest, closed my eyes, and was soon asleep.
CHAPTER 5: The Test of Reality
I awakened, Saturday the 17th, to another cold, dreary January morning and remembered what C.I. had told me about the controlled climate of 2150. Things were just too good to be true, I thought.
How could all those incredible social and scientific changes have taken place in only 174 years? Of course, I had to admit that going back in time 174 years from 1976 would have ‘taken me to 1802, a time when the world of 1976 would certainly have been considered a completely impossible dream.
I thought about some of the predictions for the future made by 20th‑century prophets such as Huxley and Orwell. They had viewed the future of man with great skepticism. Of course, they were writing about micro man who, according to C.I., was even now in the process of doing away with himself. I wondered how it would have affected the writings of Orwell and Huxley if they had had a larger, broader perspective which would have enabled them to envision Macro man.
Then I remembered that I, in fact, had no concrete proof whatsoever that the world of 2150 was anything more than a product of my own imag
ination.
I suddenly felt a strong need to be concrete, to check out and reaffirm my present state of existence, to touch something, to talk to someone, to hear a voice.
I looked across our apartment room and saw that Karl’s bed was neatly made, as usual, and my journal was lying there on his pillow.
I got out of bed and, losing my balance, almost fell on the floor. I had forgotten to strap on my artificial leg. That was confirmation enough of my present state of existence. I was here, fully awake, in 1976‑minus one leg.
I hobbled over to Karl’s bed, retrieved my journal and saw the note saying, “We’ll talk at noon,” signed Karl.
According to my watch it was almost 9 a.m., so I had slept late again. I wanted to write down all I could remember of my most recent experiences in 2150 or my dream world, whichever it was‑before Karl came back at noon. I hurriedly dressed, had a quick breakfast and was soon writing furiously in my journal.
When Karl came in at 12:15 p.m. I was almost finished, so I pulled out the pages I had completed and handed them to him so he could get caught up on my latest dream experiences while I finished writing.
Karl finished about the same time I did and for a few seconds we just looked at each other. Then Karl broke the silence.
“Hey, man,” he grinned, “you’ve got to be the all‑time super dreamer. You aren’t content with one beautiful superwoman in love with you‑no, you got to have two of ‘em, one blonde and one brunette, even if they do wear it short.”
“All right,” I said. “Any other comments? Aren’t you at all impressed with the continuity? The fact that the dream picked up right where it ended before? And how about the continuing wealth of detailed information about the society of the future?”
Karl’s face became serious and he frowned. “Yes, Jon,” he said, “I am impressed with it. I honestly don’t know what to think except that if we take it seriously, we are both candidates for the loony bin. Think of that, Jon. Just imagine the headline, ‘Two aspiring young psychologists, just one year from that big degree, break under load of studies and are admitted to State Mental Hospital.’ “
It was amusing, but uncomfortably possible. “Okay, okay, I’ll be careful, Karl, I promise.”
“I’m not sure that even keeping it secret will end our problems, Jon. This dream has become an obsession with you.”
I thought about this and had to admit that he was right. “I guess you’re right, Karl. I’ve never experienced anything so satisfying, so completely and irresistibly engaging in my entire life.
“I’m still a bit skeptical of its reality,” I added. “What I plan to do is test it out, like any other hypothesis. The ultimate test will be whether I can learn to liberate myself from this micro existence, as Lea suggested, and live in the Macro world of 2150 permanently.”
“Good God, Jon!” Karl came to the edge of his chair, his voice harsh with alarm. “Do you know what you’re saying? If this dream is a mental aberration, an escape from unpleasant reality, then you’ll end up like a vegetable‑permanently off in your dream world while cooped up in some hospital and fed intravenously in the real world of 1976. Just one more catatonic schizophrenic!”
Karl got up and began pacing about the room. He didn’t say anything. The silence grew as I seriously considered the possibility that I might be becoming psychotic. Would I eventually deteriorate into the vegetable existence of the catatonic schizophrenic? What would happen to my body here in 1976 if I managed to stay permanently in the world of 2150? Would it become a vegetable? Would it just disappear? Would it die?
These were questions I couldn’t answer, and I found myself wishing I could ask Central Information.
“I’ve got it, Karl,” I said. “I’ll ask C.I. when I get back what will happen to my body here in 1976 if I stay permanently in 2150.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Karl answered in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now let’s solve the problem by asking Satan to help us stop sinning!”
“But, Karl, I‑“
“Listen to me, Jon,” he interrupted. “You’ve got to realize that a society, even a real one, that would let itself be run by some giant computer has got to be sick! Sick! SICK!”
“Now wait a minute, Karl,” I replied. “Let’s be fair. Let’s be pragmatic. Let’s compare the results.”
“Our micro society of 1976 is dedicated to selfish exploitation of others in the interest of short‑term material pleasures. This selfish behavior is performed and perpetuated in the name of our freedom, our family, our city, our state, our nation, our religion, or in the name of communism, socialism, capitalism, of some other damn ism, and it has produced inconceivable amounts of human misery.
“The world of 1976 is a world of selfish divisions breeding suspicion, distrust, hatred, and endless conflict both internally and internationally. It’s a world so divided and so unable to cooperate that it has polluted its land, its water, its animal life, and even the air we breathe, to such an extreme that our planetary survival is in question.
“As for our people, at least one out of three lives in poverty, disease, and semi‑starvation. This, Karl, in spite of the fact that we have the resources and the technology to provide adequate food, clothing, shelter, medical care, and education to each and every person on this entire planet!”
“My question, Karl, is why aren’t we doing it?”
“Probably because we’re too damned self-centered, Jon,” was Karl’s response. “But the solution isn’t to turn all our problems over to some bloody machine to solve. Now that’s a real cop‑out!”
“They don’t cop out in 2150,” I answered heatedly and suddenly realized that I had a desperate need to convince Karl, and maybe myself, of the truth, the value, and the rightness of my strange experiences.
“Okay, Karl,” I said, forcing myself into calmness, “listen to me with as open a mind as you can, because if we get lost in our emotions we’ll really be in trouble.
“Everything I’ve learned about the society of 2150 indicates that its people care about each other and are deeply involved with helping others. Now, that’s not a cop‑out.”
“Moreover,” I continued, “they have developed a philosophy of life which provides such a large perspective that they can see the long‑term destructive results of selfish behavior. In other words, from their Macro perspective they can see that we are all one interdependent whole and, therefore, the welfare of the apparently least important individual is the concern and the welfare of all. Only from this larger perspective is there any practical value in words like ‘love one another,’ ‘you are your brother’s keeper,’ ‘what you sow you must reap,’ or ‘treat others as you would like to be treated.’ “
“But what about that damn machine?” Karl began.
“Screw the machine!” I shouted. “It wasn’t C.I. that developed Macro philosophy or a Macro society which could attract highly evolved souls! It wasn’t the machine that provided love, patience, kindness, and understanding help for every living being! No! It was the people of the Macro society who chose an unselfish, Macro lifestyle.”
“And the results?” I continued “The results are 300 million people free from war, pollution, poverty, selfishness, and hatred‑every one of them educated and healthy, with a roof over their heads and three square meals a day.”
“If this is sick, sick, SICK,” I shouted as I slammed my fist down on the table, “then, by God, I choose to be sick!”
Karl stared at me in disbelief. Then he said, “Jon, I’ve never seen you so‑so‑I’m not sure what. Maybe passionately involved. You’re shouting, you’re arguing, you’re slamming your fist around, and you’re swearing. This is all new to me. I don’t know what to think.”
“How about realizing that I’ve been an uninvolved spectator in this life up till now? I’ve prided myself on never losing my, cool, but actually I was just copping out. Now‑at last‑I’m concerned, involved, committed, and I’m not going to back out, no matter what hap
pens. I’m going to give all I’ve got to exploring and learning about this world of the future.”
Karl slowly shook his head and I could see that his face was taut with strain. “I’m afraid,” he said. “You know that I feel closer to you than to anyone else on Earth. That I’d give my life to help you.
“I remember,” he continued, “there’s some philosophy that says if you save a man’s life you are thereafter responsible for it. Well, I saved your life in Vietnam, and now I can’t let you destroy it over some psychotic hallucination.”
“But, Karl‑ “ I began.
“No, damn it, you listen to me now!” Karl insisted as he shook his fist at me as though he were planning to physically wrestle me to my senses. “You know as well as I that sudden massive personality changes are classic signs of mental disturbance, and you just admitted that you’ve got a whole new personality!”
Karl paused and looked at me carefully to see if I had registered this bombshell.
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