The first beat sent a rumble through the entire Mothership. Metal squealed. Another beat struck, then more followed, unspooling a string of funky percussion that hung in the air above the mechanical noises of the ship. The passengers and crew dangled from it, suspended breathless and hopeful, muscles held tight in anticipation.
The string snapped. The dance erupted. Everyone climbed out of their safety harnesses and flowed onto the floor in an ecstatic wave. Waists twisted and arms angled, bodies bent just so to capture the quirk in the singer’s top notes. The ship shivered from the motion of so many joyous black bodies. It quivered like the skin of a drum and continued lifting through and beyond the Earth’s atmosphere, leaving the launchpad at Jamestown Spaceport far below.
