It's your first night as the newest member of the resident company of the Black Rose Repertory Theater. It's 2114. Only a week ago you emigrated from a colony on Mars to San Francisco, the city of your ancestors.
You enter the backstage where several members of the cast are chatting, tablet scripts of Little Shop of Horrors in hand. As you approach a woman steps from the shadows. Oddly she's dressed in full costume. Even more oddly she's dressed in a costume from the 1800s.
"Ah, excellent!" she says when your gazes meet. "You can see me. It's been too long. We have much work to do."
"Aren't we doing Little Shop of Horrors?" you ask. "I didn't think it was a dress rehearsal so soon."
From the middle of the stage the lead actress calls out, "Come on over. Read for Audrey until Lannie gets here."
The costumed woman shakes her head with a smile. She passes her hand through your arm. So, not flesh and blood. Ghost? Hologram? Practical joke of initiation?
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