“There are many universes…” she said, in the voice of a factual statement, “and, sometime, voices filter, from one to another. Then one has to know how to read the signs.”
I waited, hoping for an explanation. The clouds formation, above the rocky landscape, was turning weird. The air was icy cold.
“If you want to learn the way,” she resumed in a lower tone, “then I can show you, but there is a price.”
“Let’s assume I am prepared to pay that price…” I said, wanting to sound confident, and surer of myself than I really was.
“It’s not a matter of assumption,” came her reply, now uncompromising. “Do you want to learn, or not: that is your choice.”
I paused. I’d met the woman during the long hike, through a landscape that felt as if it belonged to another world. We’d talked about the scenery, then about alien worlds. And now, the sky, the wisp. Wasn’t that ice formation, high up, close to the upper atmosphere?
“I do want to learn. What is the price?”
“O, this is very simple, in order to teach you, I have to take you to where I come from…”