the suit she has just donned and the helmet appear to be gone.  She looks around for an off switch, a way out but doesn't see anything immediately.<br/><br/>"Hello?" she calls as she looks around the beautiful garden.  She reaches out to the nearest flower and touches the petals. So soft. So...so real.  She breathes deeply and calls out again.  Afraid that there might  be an answer and terrified there might not be.<br/><br/>"Welcome Z, " says a voice.  She turns and looks around trying to place it.  There doesn't seem to be anyone around.  But then she realizes it is the same voice that had commanded her to put on the helmet to begin with.<br/><br/>"Where are you?" Asked Z.<br/><br/>"Please proceed to wardrobe."  The voice commands.  Z looks around for some speakers, anything that might be emitting the sound but can't find it.  Perhpas, she thinks, I am really wearing the suit and helmet and the voice is the computer....It's the only logical explanation she can come up with.<br/><br/>She approaches the wardrobe closet and finds herself face to face with about as many options as she can imagine.  There are historical garments from every earth century she can imagine.  They are all exquisitely made with fine detail--and they seem so...so real.  She picks one out because she is attracted to the rich color.  It looks like something out of the 17th century on earth.  Something a courtier might wear.  She slips it on.