1stLt Samuel Woolheater – Take my hand
Radamio
((Far beneath the surface – A lively transit hub – Liminal Station, Marohu III))
The Colonel was keeping a close eye on things to ensure everyone was safe and secure, which was exactly what Sam would be doing if it weren’t for this nearly two-meter slab of music and freedom.
Imagine being able to simply hear a sound in your head, either from memory or something brand new, and within a second, it is recreated for all to hear.
Doctor Nis seemed to be enjoying the display, and the other two Marines were curious. Dapsis, the Combat Engineer, was actually getting some pretty good data now. Standing at the table, the crystals visible inside the stones were alive and seemed to have been jump-started with the two joules of energy from the portable power sticks.
Thasho was harder to read, but Sam was pretty sure that she was enjoying the sights and sounds.
The music that Sam heard was closest to a very old style of classical music called Swing. That didn’t last long, as he next heard another old style called Dirty Dancin’ / Salsa Style. He pursed his lips and got such a naughty look on his face.
Woolheater: Oohhh… ba-by!
He said it to the table and caught Jania’s eye for a moment. His grin was confident and energetic. The tabletop disk was certainly interested in this kind of music, and the sonorous melodies and rhythms emanated from everywhere all at once, filling the space with a sound that was both modern and sultry at the same time.
Greaves: They sound like Earth instruments, and I swear I recognize this song. Or at least the style. It must be pulling from your memory, Sam.
Nis: Response
Sam heard a trumpet, and there was a trumpet. He heard the drums and the strum and the lyric of a guitar, and they sounded. He snapped his fingers once, twice. Each pop landed perfectly in time, a conductor’s cue to the unseen band. The grin on Woolheater’s face was pure delight.
Woolheater: Yes, sir Colonel, I think so. Woo! I could get used to this.
Greaves: Doctor, I think you might be on to something with the dancing idea.
Nis: Response
Sam’s infectious grin and open hand to Jania welcomed them both to the dance floor. He snapped his fingers in time, and then the band began to play something more modern, perhaps sultry and suggestive.
He didn’t mind. This kind of thing was from earlier in his life, and the moves came back just like riding a bike again.
Woolheater: Aww, hell yeah. I can play any music in my head, and this’ll recreate it?
The body armor and slung rifle weren’t exactly the easiest things to dirty dance in, but Woolheater had been to those parties before. He cozied up to Doctor Nis and fell into sync with her amazing ability to seductively own the dance floor. A dozen punchlines queued up in his head, and for once, he let them die heroes. Not when Jania was shining and moving and grooving like the dancing queen she was.
Perhaps the table had subtly done something to him, removed some inhibitions or Marine decorum. Sam thought not, though. They were here doing a job, activating the transit system or whatever. If the bus and train system here were “booty powered”, then that was what made the final frontier so much fun to explore.
Nis: Response
Greaves: (Shouting over the music) The inscription said something about dreaming, too.
Woolheater: I’m pretty sure I’m unconscious on the floor, sir. Gotta be dreamin’.
Together, Woolheater and Nis maneuvered themselves to every member of the team. Sam danced with Thasho, while Jania took a dip and a dive with each Marine, including the Colonel.
It was actually a smart thing to do. If the cost of riding the transit system was a dance, then Nis and Woolheater were simply ensuring that nobody on the team would get dinged for fare evasion.
Perfect sense. Practical too.
It turned out that with the right music, everybody was a good dancer. And with Nis as your partner, one couldn’t go very wrong. Once she had a spin with everyone, she ended at the line, and Sam was there to pick her up again.
He lifted Doctor Nis off her feet as she struck a pose and then down into his arms. They spun around and worked the dance floor until he bent slightly as the music came to a half-cadence, holding her in his arms for a moment.
Woolheater: Oh myyyy… dear Doctor! You have got some moves on you.
Nis: Response
Something was happening with the transit pod, if that’s what it was. If the system ran on dance and dream energy, Marohu III would have had an exhausted population. Samuel grinned back and set her on her feet again as the complete cadence ended that sultry, sexy number.
Greaves: (Shouting) It’s working.
There was a stinger at the end of that song, perfectly timed to the opening of the pod doors.
Woolheater: ::happy faced:: Well. That was fun.
Nis: Response
Woolheater caught a glimpse of what their dancing efforts had achieved. A sharp hum filled the air as the pod doors hissed apart, revealing an interior washed in amber light. Rows of seats curved along the walls, smooth black panels where controls might once have been. It looked ancient, yet clean, like a subway car carved from obsidian.
Greaves: Looks like that did it.
Samuel looked over at Doctor Nis, surprised, exhilarated, and loose.
Woolheater: ::shrugs:: The things we do in the service, ay?
Nis: Response
The Colonel took a good look inside the craft and spoke in that calm, measured, each-word-counts way of his.
Greaves: It’s powered and safe, but I can’t tell where it goes or how to start it yet.
Woolheater: Maybe this is the dream part?
He asked innocently enough.
Nis: Response
Inside each pod was a black, glassy obsidian-like panel. When one got close to it, each tricorder sounded off. Definite, rhythmic energy readings and, most curiously, coordinates.
Greaves/Nis: Response?
Woolheater: So, how does this move then, if not on the track?
Greaves/Nis: Response?
A holographic display showed a sphere that seemed to represent the planet itself. There were red dots placed where many intersecting lines met, and to Sam, those looked like stations. But it was the Colonel who made the most fascinating discovery next.
Greaves/Nis: Response?
The last note faded, and somewhere deep below, machinery stirred.
Tags/TBC
Scout Sniper / Infantry Officer
MARDET, Starfleet Marine Corps
USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850