The Forge of God by Greg Bear

Author:Greg Bear [Bear, Greg]
Format: epub, mobi, azw3, pdf
Tags: Science fiction, General, Fiction, Fiction - Science Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Science fiction; American
ISBN: 9780765301079
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2001-07-23T23:00:00+00:00

Stella had invited Edward to join her on a horseback ride that afternoon. They loaded four bales of alfalfa into the Morgan Company jeep and drove to a run—down corral a mile outside town. Three horses—a roan, a chestnut quarter horse, and a small, energetic pinto—stood with ears attentive in the middle of a broad pasture.

"I haven't had time to ride for months," Stella said, lifting a bale from the back of the Jeep and hefting it to a half-demolished feed pen within the fence. All three horses approached warily, tails swishing. "They're half wild by now." She smiled at him, flicking straw from the sleeves of her Pendleton. "Up to a challenge?"

"I'm an amateur. I haven't ridden in years."

The horses gathered to snuffle at the alfalfa, then settled in to feed. Stella hugged the pinto's neck and it regarded her with a wild pale eye, though not resisting her caress. "This is Star. Used to be my horse all the time. When I came back from school, I'd ride her all over the desert, out to the opal beds and down to the Indian digs, across the dry creek beds. We had a good old time, didn't we?"

Star munched.

"You should ride the chestnut gelding, that's Midge," she suggested. "Midge is even-tempered. Get acquainted."

Edward approached the chestnut and stroked its neck and mane, murmuring "Good horse, nice friendly horse."

After a few minutes of reacquainting the horses with human company, Stella brought two blankets and saddles from the Jeep, Star accepted the blanket skittishly, Midge with resignation.

"I'll get on them both first," Stella said. "Try them out and get them used to riders." She adjusted the cinch on Star and mounted easily. The pinto backed away from the alfalfa and paced around the feed pen nervously, then stood still and hoofed the soft dirt and old straw in a corner. Stella dismounted and approached Midge. Edward backed away.

She mounted Midge just as gracefully. Midge bucked from the feed and reared, throwing Stella on her back in the dirt. Edward yelled and grabbed the reins and kept his feet clear of the prancing hooves. When he had guided the horse away, he sidled it into a corner and went to help Stella to her feet.

"I'm fine. Just embarrassed." She brushed her jeans with quick, disgusted strokes.

"Gentle, hm?" Edward asked.

"He's your horse, obviously."

"I'll try to convince him of that."

A few minutes later, Midge accepted Edward's weight without protest, and Stella rode the pinto beside them. They rode to the far end of the corral and she dismounted to lift the wire loop on a sun-bleached gate.

Shoshone, like most of the desert resorts in the area, sat on a thermal hot spring that poured hundreds of gallons of water a minute out across the desert, and had done so, without letup, for decades. The runoff formed a creek that meandered under California 127, borax pans covered with grass and scrub, throwing up thick fringes of cattails along its banks.

They rode across the creek and into the dry desert beyond, coming finally to a borax-topped decline.

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