“So,” I said after Ursula just finished showing me a pulsar, “how far can you reach from here?”
She considered the question for a moment. “You mean how far into space or into time?”
“Uh…” I muttered, not really having thought about the question in those terms. “Both, I guess.”
“Everywhere. Everywhen. All space, all time. The entire universe.”
“So you can reach out to any time and place, and observe what’s happening,” I summed up.
She nodded. “Generally, yes.”
A canorous laugh rang out unexpectedly, and I glanced over to where Endow, giggling merrily, was still speaking to Rune.
“Hmmm,” I muttered, reflecting on Ursula’s answer as I turned back to her. “Why do you say ‘generally’?”
“Well, the Cosmos Corridor is the only place in Permovren where it’s possible. Of course, you can’t see other places like this that are outside of space and time — and you can’t observe or affect Incarnates — but otherwise the sky’s the limit.”
“And if you decide you want to give someone an ability — say, super speed — you can just do it?”
“Well, I can’t,” she admitted, laughing. “That falls under the province of Endow.”
“Impressive,” I noted, and found myself glancing once again in Endow’s direction as I reflected on the power — the sivrrut — she wielded.
“Hey!” Ursula snapped, getting my attention. “You’re not going to last long as my new beau if you keep ogling other women. You don’t want to end up like my last boyfriend.”
Grinning, I raised an eyebrow. “What happened to him?”
“I dropped him into a black hole over there,” she said, pointing to a far section of the room. Then she spun and pointed to a different area, muttering, “Or did I strand him on a desert planet over there? Or…”
Biting her lip, she trailed off as she appeared to ponder on something. A moment later, she flung up her hands in capitulation, saying, “I don’t know. I can’t keep up with all these dudes.”
At this point, I was laughing heartily, having decided that I liked Ursula and her sense of humor. A moment later, she joined me, snickering.
It took a few moments for our laughter to subside, at which point, still chuckling, I said, “Well, I appreciate the heads-up, but I don’t think you’d find me good boyfriend material. I’m a little on the young side.”
“Hold up,” she said, sobering instantly. “How old do you think I am?”
I shrugged. “Twenty-four, twenty-five?”
“I’m seventeen,” she declared defensively, putting her hands on her hips and glowering at me.
I stared at her, plainly surprised. “Seventeen hundred?”
She looked at me incredulously, then firmly stated, “No! Just seventeen, as in one-seven.”
“Uh, sorry,” I mumbled. “You look very mature for your age. I apologize if I offended you.”
She continued glaring at me, then winked and smiled.
“Just kidding,” she said. “About being mad, that is — not about being seventeen.”
“Really?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Despite being laamuffal to an Incarnate, I just felt like I wasn’t taken as seriously when I looked like a teenager, so I had Endow age me a few years.”
“She can do that?” I queried in surprise.
“Of course. All the Incarnates can. Traditionally, the laamuffal gets to select their own appearance, which makes sense when you consider that you might be on the job for a long time.”
I nodded, reflecting back on my conversation with Rune about Sayo. At the time, it hadn’t even occurred to me to ask about her youthful appearance, but now I understood.
“Anyway,” Ursula said, interrupting my thoughts, “I’ve been showing you all the stuff I find interesting. What’s something you’d like to see?”
“Huh?” I muttered, not sure I understood the question.
She made a gesture that encompassed the room. “We’ve got the entire universe here. Surely there’s something you’re interested in taking a peek at?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Obviously, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, give me something to work with,” Ursula insisted. “Maybe there’s a distant planet you’re interested in, or a far-off galaxy. Or maybe just see what people are saying when you aren’t in the room.”
“I’m a telepath,” I blurted out, although my powers were actually limited in that regard. “I’ve occasionally picked up on thoughts that people have about me that I’m sure they believed were private, and it’s not always pretty. Hearing what they say about me when I’m not around is something I am definitely not interested in.”
As I spoke, I found my conviction on the subject solidifying. Watching people talk about me when I wasn’t around was completely off the table.
“Are you sure?” Ursula asked. “Maybe see if your grandparents brag about you to their friends? See how your mom really felt about that bowl you made her in kindergarten? Check in on your ex and see if she’s missing you?”
Despite my sentiments on the subject, Ursula’s last question actually piqued my interest. (My girlfriend had just broken up with me, but it was something I was trying not to dwell on.) More to the point, I must have telegraphed that fact in some way because it didn’t go unnoticed.
“A-ha!” Ursula crowed. “The ex. It’s always the ex.”
“Not this time,” I countered. “I’m not interested. There’s nothing I want to see.”
“Are you sure?” she implored.
“Nothing comes to mind.”
She seemed to reflect on that for a moment.
“Okay, maybe consciously you don’t want to see anything,” she conceded, “but perhaps subconsciously?”
I stared at her, nonplussed. “What do you mean?”
Rather than respond, Ursula lifted her hands in front of her. Her eyes narrowed, and she began swiftly running her thumbs across the fingers on each respective hand, similar to someone making a gesture for cash. Almost immediately, a soft amber glow formed around her fingertips.
“Close your eyes,” she said.
I was a little unsure of what was happening, but based on what I could sense of her emotions, I felt I could
