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“Dance!”

“Yes, I love it. I love the freedom dance gives me.” She was already climbing off the bed as she spoke.

Rane grinned at her. “What sort of music do you need?”

Nell’s nose wrinkled. “What have you got?”

“Most likely, the same as you. I have access to the computer’s music database.” Rane jumped off the bed and strode to the panel on his wall. “Computer, play a sample of Earth music over the last one hundred years.”

“Playing compilation,” the computer said.

The sound of some tinny noise with an out of tune stringed instrument began.

Rane turned and looked at Nell. “Is this suitable?”

She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips as she jiggled on the spot. “That’s not what I’m after.”

“Computer, move forward two decades.”

A high-pitched warbling female began.

Nell giggled. “Oh dear, that’s war music. It was great for the troops during the Second World War.”

“Skip forward another decade,” Rane said.

Some earnest sounding duo singing about lost love filtered out of the speakers.

“Nope, that’s not it,” Nell said. “Computer, skip to the nineteen eighties.”

Rane turned toward her. “Is that your favorite era of Earth music?”

“It’s as cheesy as anything. Lots of bright, bouncy pop stars singing about fun and love and getting drunk.”

“That sounds like a good decade to be on Earth.”

“It was before my time, but I think people enjoyed themselves.”

The song came on. A male singer began singing about not wanting freedom or wanting to play around and making lots of do do do noises.

Nell started jigging on the spot and waving her hands in the air. It was a different kind of dancing from her Egyptian dance class, but it looked fun.

“Is that better?” he asked.

“It’s perfect cheese.” Nell turned in a circle and sidestepped.

Rane attempted to copy her movements but felt awkward and clumsy.

Nell laughed when she saw what he was doing. “Listen to the beat. It will make you less robotic looking when you’re following the music.”

“I’m not robotic,” Rane grunted as he almost fell over. “I know how to handle a tune. I make them all the time.”

She grinned. “Of course you do. This is a different kind of music. It’s a different style of dance. You need to let go and accept you’re going to look daft.”

Rane continued to move, still feeling awkward. “This is entertainment on Earth?”

“It used to be. Some of this music is still listened to. There are always the classic tunes that stick around. You must have the same on your home planet.”

“Music is considered another form of art. Olickie don’t enjoy it.”