Mr. Carter blinked.

The floor was different. There was no texture or pattern to it. The ghostlight had made it smooth and blue and featureless.

“Am I alive?” he asked.

He felt Dr. Morton squeeze his shoulder. “Of course you’re alive.”

“What happened? What happened to the ghost?” Mr. Carter asked.

“As you can see from the ghostlight suffusing the floor, he’s still here, but you might want to look up to get a more comprehensive view of the situation.” Joseph said.

“I don't want to.”Mr. Carter whined.

“And I don’t want a cowardly man attached to me at the hip, making what should be a simple haunting take all night to resolve, yet here we are!” Joseph exclaimed.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Mr. Carter snapped. “You and Dr. Ernst and Dr. Glass, the three of you live this everyday! I don’t! I’m not used to ghosts swallowing up people like Jonah and the whale!”

“Oh, don’t get cross with me, Mr. Carter.” Joseph said. “It’s not me you should be upset with, anyway. It’s the giant demon with three heads that’s standing in front of us.”

Mr. Carter suddenly did not want to stare at the floor.

He jerked his face up and though he didn’t find a demon, he found another object of his fear.

His theater was gone.

In its place was a blue throne room empty save for the black-cloaked hero who waited patiently for his audience to fall silent.

“What has the ghost done?” Mr. Carter grasped Joseph. “What did you let him do?”

“If you keep acting like a hysterical woman, know that I’ll hit you like one.” Joseph said. “Stop scratching me, or I’m going to slap you.”

Mr. Carter let go. He was sure Joseph meant what he said.

“What you see before you is an example of what we manesologists term Odic induction.” Matthew explained. “Powerful manes, such as the one in your theater, can take physical matter up into the Odic layer of the Astral.”

“Are you saying he’s turned my theater into ectoplasm?” Mr. Carter asked.

“Yes.” Matthew said. “But isn’t it a fine recreation of Elsinore castle? Imagine you putting on a production and your Claudius sits right on that throne. Imagine how regal he would look! Why, I wouldn’t mind having a seat in it myself, it looks very comfortable!”

“Dr. Morton, I’ll kill you for this.” Mr. Carter said.

“What? Just him?” Martin asked.

“He's the one that said we were making progress! He said we were making great progress in reducing the haunting and now my theater is a throne room!”

“Most people would consider that an improvement.” Matthew said.

“You wouldn’t want me dead, my ghost would haunt you.” Joseph said. “Then what would you do?”

“Hm…good point, Morton.” Mr. Carter said.. “But that does nothing to abate the rage I have towards you! My theater is gone!”

“Not gone, but transported and transformed.” Matthew said. “It’ll come back, just the way it was. What’s taken up into the Astral can be brought down from the Astral.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A shrill cry made Mr. Carter jump.

The manesologists turned towards the sound and Mr. Carter away from the sound.

“Mr. Carter, it’s a cat.” Martin said. “And a flesh-and-blood one at that.”

“And it's cute!” Joseph said.

“It’s a tabby, I think.” Matthew said.

“Oh, hello, precious little thing!” Joseph knelt down and extended his hand toward the cat.

The cat trotted into Joseph’s halo of olprt radiance. It nuzzled against Joseph’s hand and playfully bit at his fingers.

“Look Mr. Carter, it isn’t a manes.” Martin said. “See? No silhouette.”

“Why did you think it was real before it entered the olprt radiance?” Mr. Carter asked.

“Firstly, “real” is not a synonym for “physical.” Secondly, do you know any cats from Shakespeare?” Martin asked. “The closest I can come is Tybalt from Romeo and Juliet being likened to the prince of cats from the Reynard stories.”

“I think one of the witches from Macbeth mentions owning a cat.” Matthew said.

“The point being, Mr. Carter, that this isn’t a manes.” Martin said. “Instead, it’s proof that our manes can show great consideration for living things. He is stuck in a phantasmagorical loop of activity, but he is not insane or violent.”

“How does a cat show that?” Mr. Carter asked.

“I think I’ll call him Tybalt.” Joseph said as he stroked the cat’s back.

“Think about it, Mr. Carter.” Martin said. “Our manes has extended his ectoplasm to cover the theater, and likely a little bit more. Cats don’t live in your theater, do they?”

“Certainly not!”

“So Tybalt must be a cat that lives in one of the adjacent alleys. That our manes didn’t absorb him shows that he’s very careful about what he scoops up with his ectoplasm. We could have turned off our gaeite candles and all of us would have been fine.”

“So what do we do now?” Mr. Carter asked. “Is there some sort of Operation you can perform to turn my theater back to normal?

“What we do now is very easy.” Joseph said. “You’ll like this part. We just stand here and give Hamlet our undivided attention.”

Joseph stood up and held the cat in his arms.

“You look so cute.” Martin smirked. “Like a big, fuzzy momma cat.”

“You think Esmee would like a cat?” Joseph asked.

“Maybe. But I know Eva would. She’s been begging for us to give her one for the longest.”

“As long as she understands not to show him to her other “kitties,” it should be fine to give Tybalt to Eva.” Matthew said.

Joseph handed Tybatl to Matthew. “Here, Mercutio, your rival.”

“I think I’m rather more Friar Laurence.” Matthew said.

Substitute director Joseph Morton stood before Hamlet and brushed the cat hair off his sleeves.

“Excellent work on the stage, young man. What you have here is a quick and beautiful setup. And it came with a cat! You don’t see many actors that come with their own stages, let aloe their own cats. However, before you do something like that again, please give us early warning. We don’t mind, you understand, but the higher-ups and investors, well, they’re rather particular about who moves what when where and why. Now that that’s out of the way, please, go into your act.”

Hamlet scowled in disapproval at the throne.

“A little more than kin, and less than kind.” he said.

Then he paused.

“Not so, my lord, I am too much in the sun.” Hamlet said.

Then he paused again.

“What’s he doing?” Matthew whispered. “Is he saying the right lines?”

“Those are the right lines.” Mr. Carter said. “Those are Hamlet’s first lines. But…he’s not giving a monologue. He’s doing the lines with Claudius, but there’s no Claudius. He’s talking to an empty throne…like a madman!”

“Keep your voice down.” Joseph said.

“Oh, of course. I don’t want to anger him…”

“No. You should keep your voice down to be polite.” Joseph said. “Calling people madmen out of the blue, where are your manners?”

Hamlet turned from the throne. “Ay, madam, tis common.” he said.

“Now he’s talking to Gertrude.” Mr. Carter said.

“Seems, madam, nay! I know not “seems”.” Hamlet continued. “Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, nor customary suits of solemn black, nor windy suspiration of forced breath, no, nor the fruitful river in the eye, nor the dejected havior of the visage, together with all moods, forms, shows of grief, that can denote me truly.”

“Oh good.” Mr. Carter whispered as Hamlet continued. “Claudius has a lot of lines coming up.” he turned to the manesologists. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something to make him more lucid and less like he’s stuck in an eternal daydream? Shouldn’t you be doing some sort of Operation?”

“I really shouldn’t have to tell you this again, but I’ll tell you again anyway.” Joseph said. “We talk first. Then we do gaeite candle magic. The Ror Raas didn’t give these candles to us because they thought we’d use their power at the drop of a hat.”

“But talking with the ghost doesn’t seem to be doing a bit of good!” Mr. Carter exclaimed.

“One moment.” Joseph said. “It’s not fair for us to keep talking over our actor.” Joseph turned to the ghost. “Hamlet! Mr. Carter and I need to converse amongst ourselves about your performance.” Joseph said.

But Hamlet continued to speak to a Gertrude that wasn’t there.

“Mr. Carter has told me to tell you that you can take a break now. You can stop and be silent.”

But Hamlet continued to speak.

Joseph nudged Mr. Carter with his elbow. “Tell him to take a rest.”

“Take a break. Please.” Mr. Carter said.

Hamlet finally paused, and resumed staring at Mr. Carter as he had done so many nights before.

Mr. Carter shivered at the familiarity of the stare.

“Oh, find your manhood, already!” Joseph exclaimed. “I’ve never met a man who can so utterly control a ghost and yet be so afraid of him at the same time! Anyway, to answer your complaints that nothing seems to be improving, not so! We are easing our ghost out of his phantasmagoria into lucidity. He started with many bodies chaotically moving around, none aware of anything. Then, we got him to take the form of a single body and listen to someone. He’s now aware of someone other than himself. That’s a good start. Now, we need to make him aware of several people and interact with them, and that shouldn’t be too hard considering we’re doing a play!”

“I don’t understand.” Mr. Carter said.

“We have Hamlet. I can be another role, and so can Dr. Glass, and so can Dr. Ernst. Good lord man, you're a director! All we’re asking you to do is direct!”