The common room at Skylar Wilks, a second phase cadet barracks, seemed to be wall-to-wall bodies by the time Floyd arrived that evening. He wriggled through the crowd until he could see the platform set up in the center. Sure enough, someone had a powwow drum. How in the world they’d gotten something that big shipped out here to the Titan Base he had no idea, but there it was. Maybe they’d somehow built it right here. Who knew?
A circle of several cadets, stripped down to their undershorts, knelt around the drum and pounded out an ancient rhythm. Close to the platform, a few others began to sway and shuffle in a traditional dance. Gradually, the infectious beat drew more into motion until the whole room was dancing. Floyd shuffled with the rest, moving in a slow, clockwise spiral. In the
