Bounce To The Future
by the Egg Party
Lize and Allison switched their shoes to full-lock, synchronizing the action so the magnets attached to the metallic hull of the station with a single foomp. Few rooms allowed the gravity boots; many had greater risk of electric interference from the magnetic fields. Walking in the shoes was slow, each step a cumbersome lurch.
The pair were celebrating the launch of their return shuttle, arriving at ISS in 6 hours. After packing their few possessions, they decided to dance the remaining time away. They were in the Kibō module, now cleared of scientific equipment, tables folded away — an appropriately sized dance floor was a necessity. Kibō also had the best amplifier in the station. Discussing the plan, Lize thought ‘best’ was a strong word for the scratchy sound.
As Allison started the music, she was reminded of the astronaut, Don Pettit, inventing yo-yo tricks only possible in low gravity. She often thought of her actions and whether she was the first astronaut to do them in her particular way.
“With the grav boots this space dancing stuff … it’s just upper body,” said Allison, bending like a palm in a storm.
Lize moved her arms in a wave, an electrical current flowing through her body as a fingertip touched Allison. Lize laughed. “We certainly can’t Dos-a-Dos up here.”
Allison joined her friend, continuing the wave along her body. “And there’s no Hammertime in space.”
“No Moonwalking either.”
“Space dancing is... kinda reverse River Dancing.”
Lize nodded as they wobbled together, rooted to the ground like a wacky-inflatable-arm-waving-tube-people. “Okay, let’s syncopate.”
Both pivoted, each step accompanied by another foomp, as they faced one another. Laughing, they began the first space dance battle.
“Star Walks: A New Hop,” said Lize, turning into a robot.
“Star Track: Deep House Nine,” said Allison, popping and locking.
Lize held her hands up, indicating Allison to wait. “Okay, how ‘bout some innovation? Work with our unique conditions. I call this the Chameleon.”
With that, Lize placed her hands flat, palms down, fingers un-splayed. Her bladed hands began to slowly jerking back and forth, along with her body, as she imitated the strange, hesitant walk of the chameleon. She appeared to almost step forward, before leaning back again, life imitating life.
Allison mimicked her, dancing reptilian.
“Very appropriate,” said Allison, twisting to see Earth in the window, “space is transformative!”