"Harder. You can't hurt him: He likes it hard."

I was skritching Falstaff as hard as I could. He rumbled and burped. I recognized the sound as one of pleasure. Falstaff's flesh was thick and firm and felt like corded muscle. I began working my way up the eyestalks. The skin here was a loose furry envelope enclosing the two eyestalks-thus the silly hand-puppet effect of the eyes as they swiveled back and forth. I could feet the thick cartilage and supportive musculature like a framework beneath the skin. Both of the eyestalks were enclosed in this warm pillowcase of fur. There was an almost sexual feeling to the strength and stiffness of them, the way they were enclosed in this silky wrap.

One of Falstaff's eyes turned sideways and looked straight down at my hand. I had the feeling he approved. The eye turned and looked at me, studying-memorizing my face. Falstaff's arm unfolded and wrapped around my shoulders. It rested there while I skritched.

"All right, Falstaff!" Delandro slapped his flank. "That's enough; next you'll be wanting to climb into his bed, and I don't think he's ready for that yet." Falstaff unwrapped himself from me and pulled himself back to form a big pink meat loaf. He said something that sounded like "Barrruuupp."

"He likes you, Jim. You should be complimented."

"I am," I gulped. "I'm hysterical with joy. Or something."

"I know," Delandro said. "It's confronting at first. There's a lot of beliefs you have that you don't want to give up. You've got a lot of survival invested in those beliefs. It's not easy to discover that everything you know is wrong."

"Well, if somebody had told me that it's possible to play huggy-face, kissy-body with a Chtorran I sure wouldn't have believed it. I don't know how I could tell this to anyone else who hasn't seen it and have them believe me."

Delandro nodded. He put his arm around my shoulders then and began to lead me down toward a sheltered clearing. Falstaff huffed and puffed and followed us. "Jim," he said. "I know that a lot of what we do here is confusing to you. Because you're trying to filter it through a belief system that doesn't allow for the possibilities you're actually seeing. Look, I want you to understand just one thing." He stopped and looked into my eyes. His gaze was direct and penetrating. I felt impaled. "What happens out there-in what we call the real world-that's ordinary. People live ordinary lives. And what they call communication-that's like two TV sets yammering at each other. Both are making noise, but neither is hearing what the other is saying. What we're up to here is functioning on the extraordinary level. Do you know that results are produced only by functioning on the extraordinary level?"

"No, I don't know that."

"You go through life, from day to day to day, and you live your life in an ordinary way. Will you produce results? No. You'll just get older. But if you take a stand, if you commit yourself, if you create a context out of which to operate, then results are inevitable. That's the extraordinary level, a level that most people hardly ever reach, except in rare moments of anger and even rarer moments of joyousness that some people call love. What we're up to here is keeping ourselves committed to the deliberate and continuous creation of the joyousness of life. That's the level out of which extraordinary results are produced."

He was incredibly sincere. I couldn't hold onto my anger and hostility in the face of such sincerity.

"I guess . . . I don't know," I said.

He looked delighted. "That's good. Because that's honest. Most people don't admit it when they don't know. They make something up instead. You just crashed that program. Listen, here's what you need to know. You're already functioning at the extraordinary level. Ordinary people don't have this kind of conversation. Ordinary people don't talk about extraordinary experiences-so even talking about it is an extraordinary experience."

I was beginning to see what he meant. And something else. I was beginning to realize that I was going to have to become a part of this group if I wanted to learn the secrets they knew about the Chtorrans.

Jason must have seen the shift on my face, for he said, "Jim, I've been waiting for you for a long time. I didn't know who you'd be when you showed up, but I knew I'd recognize you when you did. I'm so glad that you're here now. You can make an incredible contribution here. I know it takes time to give up that filter of beliefs. I can wait. Time is on our side, the side of the new gods. Here's what you need to know. You're responsible for yourself. Nobody else. You probably learned that in Global Ethics, right?"

"Right. "

"You believe that, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Of course. Here, Jim, we don't believe it. We simply experience it. There's a difference between belief and experience. You'll see. Once you can experience your own responsibilitythat you are the source of everything that happens in your experience-then you will begin to demand results from yourself. Incredible results.

"That's what's happening here. We've upped the ante on ourselves. We've increased the gradient. We've made the challenge harder, so that the satisfaction can be that much more profound. When you can begin to recognize that what you believe is irrelevant, that the universe doesn't care what you believe, then you have the opportunity to put aside those beliefs and actually begin to live out of your natural ability to experience living. You see, belief---0f any kind-is a lie. It's like an out-of-date road map. And using your beliefs as a set of rules by which to operate is like insisting that the road map is still true, even when the road is no longer there."

"What if the road is still there?" I asked.

He grinned. "You know the answer to that one already. The map is not the territory." He put his hands on my shoulders. "I have an invitation for you. Every evening, we have a circle. Sometimes it's a seminar, where we go over data. Sometimes we play games or do exercises or processes. Sometimes we share ourselves. All of these circles have only one purpose: to keep us functioning at the extraordinary level. I'd like to invite you to join the circle tonight."

My natural reaction was to resist. I could feel my body beginning to stiffen under his grip. Jason didn't seem to notice. He kept looking into my eyes. It was as intense as if he were making love to me. And in fact, I wondered if . . .

"Do you want to join us?" he asked.

I hesitated. "I'm a little scared."

"Uh-huh. You have fear. What's underneath that?"

"I don't think I can trust you."

"Thanks for being honest. Anything else?" I might have told him he had two eyes for all the reaction he showed. He didn't seem to react to anything. It was as if all of his instinctive reactions had been somehow disconnected. It was almost mechanical, the way he maintained that unfailing good nature. It was annoying. And it was terrifying.

"You're-too smooth."

"Uh-huh. Good. Thanks for acknowledging that too. Anything else?"

"I've seen what Chtorrans can do."

"The wild ones?"

"Yeah."

"So you have a belief about what all Chtorrans will do, right?"

"Uh, yes. I'm scared of the Chtorrans. I hate them."

"Yes, I know. Anything else?"

"No. I think that's it."

"Good: Thank you. Do you want to join the circle tonight?"

"I thought I just told you all my reasons why not."

"Yes, you did. You told me all your reasons. Now, listen carefully. I'm not asking you if you will join us. I'm asking you if-in addition to having all those reasons, all those fears and considerations-you also have a curiosity or a desire to participate? You still don't have to, but I want to know how you feel about it. Do you want to?"

"Uh, yes; I'm curious:"