You never imagined that the being emanating from the magic lamp would be a golden retriever.

           “A dog?” Dave asked, incredulous.

           “A genie,” the dog said.

           “But why do you look like a dog?”

           “What should I look like?”

           “I don’t know – like a person.”

           “A person?”

           “You know: parachute pants and a vest with no shirt.”

           “You realize I’m not either.”

           “Either?”

           “A dog or a person.  I’m a spirit.  I could look like an office building if I wanted to.”

           “So why a dog?”

           “What’s wrong with a dog?” asked the genie.  “People love dogs.”

           “I’m more of a cat person,” Dave said.

           “Listen,” said the genie, “the decades I have to spend trapped in the lamp are boring and all, but so are pointless conversations.  If you don’t have your wishes ready, just let me run loose for a couple of months – catch a few sights, see a Broadway show or two….”

           “No no,” Dave said quickly.  “I have my wishes ready.”

           “Most people do,” said the genie, flatly.

           “I want to see what’s on the other side of the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.”

           “The what now?”

           “Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation,” Dave repeated.

          The genie let out an exasperated little huff of breath through his nose – exactly like a dog would.  “Listen, buddy –” 

           “Dave,” Dave said.

           “Dave,” said the genie.  After a pause, he said.  “Listen, Dave, I’ve been living in that lamp since before the kaffiyeh was invented –” 

           “Calf a what now?” Dave asked.

           “A very long time,” said the genie, slowly, with just the trace of a growl.  “I know what ‘cosmic’ means, and ‘background,’ but I’ve never heard the words ‘mikerwave’ or ‘rodiation.’”

           “‘Microwave,’” Dave said.  “‘Radiation.’”

          Neither of them said anything for a very long time.

           “Here’s the thing,” said the genie at last. “If I don’t know what you’re talking about then I can’t wish it up for you.”

           “Oh,” Dave said quickly.  “Right.”

          And Dave went into a long, rambling harangue about science and space and gravity and superheated plasma and about 90% of it went right over the genie’s head.

          After about fifteen minutes of this, the genie was willing to give it a go.  “So you’re saying that at the very edge of the Universe is this giant wall of fire.”

           “Of light,” Dave corrected.  “Yes.”

           “And you want to see what’s on the other side of it.”

           “On the other side of it,” Dave said, “is the creation of the Universe.”

           “Well,” said the genie, scratching the side of his nose with one paw in a very human-like gesture, “most people just wish for money or youth, so I guess I can appreciate the novelty of it.  How do we go about it?”

           “All you need to do is send me 46.5 billion light years in any direction,” Dave said.  After a pause he pointed to his living room couch.  “That way.”

           “‘Light year?’”

          It took another fifteen minutes for Dave to explain to the genie about the finite speed of light and the distances it can travel.  Then it took another half hour to convert light years into miles and miles into yards and yards, at long last, into cubits.  Dave ran the math a second time just to make sure they’d gotten it right.

           “All right,” said the genie finally, scratching behind his ear with a back paw in a very dog-like fashion.  “I think I’ve got this.”  He pointed his nose towards the living room couch.  “That direction?”

           “Yeah,” Dave said.  “One more thing: there won’t be any oxygen out there.  No atoms at all, in fact.  It’s going to be one big sea of superheated gas, so you’re going to have to transport me in a way that keeps me alive.  Can you do that?”

           “It’s magic,” said the genie, with a very human-like shrug.  “I can do anything.”  The genie stood now, giving his whole body a good shake.  “Are you ready?”

           “Yes,” Dave said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

           “Then make your wish.”

           “Genie,” Dave said, his voice dropping half an octave, “I want you to transport me 978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits in that direction” – he pointed towards the living room couch – “and sustain my life while I’m out there.”

           “Your wish is my command,” announced the genie.

          And suddenly Dave found himself floating in open space, in the middle of a starfield.  A starfield that looked exactly like the sky on Earth on a dark winter night.  The genie floated right there alongside him, looking bored.

          Dave looked around, confused.  “We said 978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits, right?”

           “That’s what we said.”

           “Then where is the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation?  Where is the edge of the Universe?”

           “This isn’t it?” asked the genie.

           “Not at all,” Dave said, frustrated.  He spent another couple of minutes spinning in a small circle, and then into a sphere, searching in all directions like he hoped the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation would suddenly just sneak up on them somehow.

           “I don’t understand it,” he grumbled.

          He turned accusingly to the genie, but the genie spread his paws.  “Look, kid – don’t ask me.  I’ve never been anywhere but the Earth before.”

           “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Dave insisted.

          The genie just stared back at him blankly.

           “All right,” Dave said at last.  “For my second wish, I want to know how far it is to the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.”

           “978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits,” said the genie without a pause.

           “In which direction?”

           “In all directions,” answered the genie.

          Dave frowned.  “Are you sure?  Maybe you didn’t understand the question.  I mean, you didn’t even know what the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation was an hour ago.”

          The genie waved one paw in the air, vaguely.  “Listen, you asked how far away it was and I told you.  Like I said: it’s magic.  I can’t get it wrong.” 

          Dave bit his lip, starting to turn around in circles again.  “The Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation is exactly 978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits away?”

           “Yes.”

           “In all directions?”

           “Yes.”

           “And the Earth is –?”

           “Exactly 978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits away,” said the genie.  He pointed his nose to a spot just above Dave’s left shoulder.  “Over there.”

           “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Dave said.  “How could the Wall of Creation . . . move?”

           “I didn’t move the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation,” insisted the genie.  “You didn’t wish for the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation to move.  You asked me to move you.  The Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation isn’t here because it was never here.”  He pointed his nose to the spot above Dave’s left shoulder again.  “It’s over there.”

           “Where the Earth is?”

           “Apparently so.”

          Dave started chewing on a thumbnail, searching the sky blankly.

           “Listen, Dave, if this is going to take a while, maybe I could get a little of that sight-seeing in?”

          Dave spun around to face the genie, wide-eyed.  “You can’t leave me out here!”

           “I’d come back,” said the genie, weakly.

           “We must have undershot it somehow,” Dave said absently.  “Can we just travel a little further?”  He pointed.  “Earth is over there, right?”

           “Yes.”

          So Dave pointed in the exact opposite direction.  “Then could you fly us that way, please?”

           “A third wish?”

           “Well,” Dave answered, looking down at his wringing hands, “I’d say you didn’t truly fulfill the first wish.”

          “Well, technically –” began the genie, but then he stopped himself.  He sighed.  “I guess if I rush this it’s right back to the lamp again.  So I’m willing to waste a little extra time.”

           “As a freebie?”

           “You’ll still have a third wish,” the genie assured him.

          Dave pointed again.  “Then that way.”

          The genie stared back at him.

           “Please,” Dave added.

           “That’s better,” said the genie.

          Dave looked around him.  “So when do we start?”

           “We started right when you asked me,” said the genie.

           “How long are you willing to do this?” Dave asked.

           “It’s boring,” said the genie, “but not as boring as the lamp.  And your wish was for me to keep you alive.  You don’t need to breathe, or eat, or anything.”  The genie glanced around them.  “I’m not saying I’ll let you do this forever, but I’m kind of enjoying the elbow room, if you know what I mean.”

          And so they spent another hour traveling at the speed of light further away from the Earth.  “Where is the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation now?”

           “978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits away,” said the genie.

           “In which direction?”

           “In all directions,” said the genie.

           “I guess we just have to keep going, then.”

          They tried again after a week, and then a month, and then another month, and then a whole year.  They killed the time by telling each other their life stories.  The genie had many, many more stories than Dave did, and some of them involved flying carpets and mountains of gold, so the genie ended up doing most of the talking.

          And each time Dave asked them to pause, he asked the same exact question – “Where is the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation now?” – and got back the same exact answer: “978,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubits away, in all directions.”

           “I don’t get it,” Dave said at last.  “It’s like the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation is keeping pace with us.  It’s following us around.”

           “Whatever that means,” said the genie, vaguely.  He’d long ago gotten bored with the whole proposition.  But even spending a year flying through open space was more interesting – if only slightly more interesting – than hanging out in a lamp waiting for someone to summon him out.  So he had long ago resigned himself to the trip.

           “Let me think,” Dave said.  He had chewed his thumbnail down pretty thoroughly over the past several months and had taken to chewing his thumb instead.

          And he didn’t say anything more for several days.

          The genie finally decided he was going to have to take up the reins on this little expedition.  “Listen, Dave, you said that the Karmic Macrowipe –”

           “Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.”

           “Whatever,” said the genie.  “That it’s so far away because that’s how long it took the light from there to travel from there to Earth.”

           “Right.”

           “And the amount of time that the light had to travel is how long it’s been since the creation of the Universe.”

           “Since the Universe became transparent to light, yes.”

           “And how long has it been since the Universe became transparent if we’re on the Earth?”

           “13.8 billion years,” Dave said immediately.

           “And how long has it been since the Universe became transparent over here?”

           “13.8 billion years,” Dave repeated.

           “So wherever we go in the Universe, the light from the wall of fire is going to have to have traveled 13.8 billion light years to get there, right?”

           “Right,” Dave said hesitantly.

           “So no matter where we go in the Universe, the only light we’re ever going to be able to see from the wall of fire is going to be all the light that’s been traveling for exactly 13.8 billion light years.”

          Dave just stared back at the genie, slack-jawed.

           “It’s not that the Cosmic Microwave Whatever is moving around,” said the genie.  “It’s that it’s everywhere.  It’s 13.8 billion light years away from every single point in the universe,” added the genie.

          Dave’s pause was much shorter this time – only half an hour.

           “You know what?” he said finally, “I’ve got my third wish.”

           “Wish away,” urged the genie.

           “I wish we were in Las Vegas,” Dave announced.

           “Now you’re talking,” said the genie, his tongue lolling out gleefully, and the two of them vanished.