{"id":274,"date":"2025-03-25T01:10:47","date_gmt":"2025-03-25T08:10:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/roses-wildflowers-pure-classicpress.local\/?post_type=stories&#038;p=274"},"modified":"2026-07-11T16:44:11","modified_gmt":"2026-07-11T23:44:11","slug":"riders-in-the-sky","status":"publish","type":"stories","link":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/riders-in-the-sky\/","title":{"rendered":"Riders in the Sky"},"content":{"rendered":"<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cLet me tell you how I got here, yippie-i-oh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Those were the first words the stranger said to Wayne.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cI said, let me tell you how I got here,\u201d he said again. Wayne looked up from his bottle. Even in this dimly lit backwater dive, the stranger stood out. The bandana tied around his neck was printed with a ranch brand, the sort they just didn\u2019t make anymore. Tattered, worn gloves hung from a bright, braided belt. And on his back was a jacket that almost looked like leather, but it was not any substitute material Wayne recognized.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne returned his attention to the bar counter and emptied his bottle. He signaled for another. The robot bartender buzzed.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cMake that two, yippie-i-ay.\u201d The stranger scooted into the barstool next to Wayne.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cListen, friend, I\u2019m in no mood for company,\u201d Wayne said. The stranger nodded.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cI can imagine you ain\u2019t, not after the union bust. Not with the whole of the Greenertons searching for you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">For an instant, Wayne considered breaking his bottle over the stranger\u2019s head and making a run for it. But the empty bottle seemed, in that moment, so heavy. The full one the bartender planted in front of him was much lighter.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne took a slug of his beer. \u201cDo me one courtesy and let me finish this before you take me in, would ya\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The stranger chuckled. \u201cI ain\u2019t no bounty hunter. Fella in the corner, however&#8230;\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne turned his head. In the booth near the back sat a man reading a holo-newspaper, his drink untouched. The stranger next to Wayne wiped his chin and placed his empty bottle on the bar. He stood, pulled the tattered gloves from his belt, and winked. A moment later he had the bounty hunter\u2019s collar between his fists, yelling that the old so-and-so had done him wrong and stole his girl years ago.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne never knew if it was the beer, or the noise, or something about the stranger, but he felt a burst of energy and bolted for the door.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Dust kicking up under his boots, Wayne ran into the darkness. He\u2019d come in on the train, but the station was the first place they\u2019d look for him. So, he just ran.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cHop on, friend.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne nearly tumbled into the dirt as the stranger pulled up next to him, seated atop a grumbling chrome rotorcycle. It shuddered, sensors watching him.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cA steel horse?\u201d Wayne stuttered, staring at the bio-mech. \u201cThat\u2019s not possib\u2026I\u2019ve heard\u2026but I never\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne\u2019s head spun. He was exhausted. He\u2019d barely slept, barely eaten. He looked up at the stranger.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNo, Riders aren\u2019t\u2026you\u2019re not\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">In the distance, sirens blared. Green lights pierced the sky. The Rider pulled on his goggles, the lenses a hellish red. He grinned and held out his hand.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cYippie-i-ay, partner.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne glanced back at the sirens, then leapt onto the rotorcycle. It roared to life, speeding over the prairie, the Rider cackling and hollering into the night.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The boy snugged the reins around his hands. It felt tight. Secure. He supposed.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cYou ready, Cody?\u201d His father asked. Cody clenched his jaw and nodded. His father rested a hand over Cody\u2019s trembling fingers.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cIt\u2019s alright, son. Take your time. The ranch ain\u2019t going nowhere. The union ain\u2019t going nowhere. You\u2019ve got me. You\u2019ve got your fellow Riders. Ain\u2019t that right, boys?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Whoops and hollers filled Cody\u2019s ears, and he blushed. He pulled his respirator bandana over his mouth, fitted his goggles with their red lenses over his eyes. He gripped the reins and kicked the steel horse to life. It shot out of the corral, plummeting off the edge of the ranch and into the sky below. Cody\u2019s father cheered. The other Riders jumped on their mounts, singing as they chased Cody through the clouds.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cLet me tell you how I got here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne eyed the stranger, barely more than a shadow in the light of the small campfire.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cListen, friend, thanks for your help and all but cut the bit, okay?\u201d Wayne said. He ran a hand through his hair. \u201cRiders ain\u2019t nothing but an urban legend. Folks gone mad from the climate catastrophe, fleeing the responsibility of fixing the world, disappearing into the sky, doomed to chase the clouds forever. It\u2019s something you tell kids to make them behave. Sort your recycling or the Riders will snatch you up, take you to live among the wicked.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider leaned into the fire.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cAnd why do you think I came for you?\u201d he asked. Then he chuckled and reclined against his rotorcycle. \u201cBetter me than a Greenerton detective.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne scowled.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cUnions are illegal, yippie-i-oh.\u201d The Rider said. \u201cAnd you\u2019ve been sneaking from town to town trying to organize workers. Worse, you\u2019ve been successful. State can\u2019t have that, can they? After all, this crisis demands centralized authority. Curfews. Work schedules. Zone restrictions. Obedience. You, sir, are a threat to law and order.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThen why save me from the bounty hunter? What are you going to do to me?\u201d Wayne asked. His mind readied to fight, but the adrenaline had worn off. Even clenching his hands felt too hard.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cLike you said, Riders come down to snatch up the wicked,\u201d the Rider grinned. \u201cBut I\u2019ll ask you one question to determine if you deserve to remain here. Why\u2019d you stop?\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne sighed. His shoulders dropped. He warmed his hands by the fire. \u201cThey sold out. Turned me in. The other organizers. Everything we did, everything we fought for\u2026I\u2019ve got nothing left. Nowhere to go. And I just can\u2019t run any longer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The stranger nodded. He scratched his chin.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThink you could ride?\u201d he asked. \u201cI\u2019m separated from my herd. Help me track them down, help me get back to Magonia, and I can take you away from all this mess.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne looked up. The steel horse glistened in the firelight. Those sorts of bio-mech rotorcycles weren\u2019t supposed to be possible. Not according to, well, State experts. Wayne\u2019s gaze shifted to the Rider\u2019s bandana. He stared at the brand stamped on it. An M overlapping a sideways R, set within a circle.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cMagonia Ranch is\u2026real?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cVotes have been tallied and the new boss is\u2026Cody Hester.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody smiled, body rocking as Riders clapped him on the back. Barely 17 and already a boss, but few were surprised. His father, God rest him, had been elected boss more times than any other Rider on the ranch. Record number of seasons. And it seemed the raindrop hadn\u2019t fallen far from the thunderhead. Even the most stubborn Riders knew Cody could be called upon for a calm head during a dispute. His reasoning in ranch assemblies was unquestioned. And his quick thinking during that jet stream anomaly may have saved two dozen head of cattle from falling.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The old boss shook Cody\u2019s hand, smiling as she showed him around the office. They discussed rotating the jobs on the ranch, cattle maintenance, harvesting, cooking, algorithm glitches, dispute management, and of course how to compile data on weather, air pollutants, toxicity, radiation. Stuff that would be useful to help the General Assembly of Ranches collectively coordinate grazing.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody squared his shoulders. It was a lot of work. He was up to the task.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It looked odd, out of place among the prairie grass. Its bulk was covered in some kind of rough fabric, maybe mycelium leather, its back coated in moss and mushrooms. Soil spilled out of its side. Its ocular sensors shone bright red as it bucked, leaving scars in the earth.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cIt\u2019s programming went haywire,\u201d the Rider explained, crouched behind a rock. \u201cShouldn\u2019t be down here, now it doesn\u2019t know where to go or what to do. Here, take this.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider handed Wayne a thin rod. He\u2019d heard about these, signal lassos that were used to prod wayward drones. Wayne peaked out from behind the rock. The bio-mech spun and bucked. One whack from that thing could do a man in, easy.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cI\u2019ll tag its oculars; you secure the rear rotors. Yippie-i-ay partner, let\u2019s go!\u201d The Rider jumped out from the rock. The bio-mech bolted, stampeding into the sky. The Rider cussed and leapt onto his steel horse, pulling Wayne with him. Into the air they zipped, chasing the out-of-control unit.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNow!\u201d the Rider shouted, aiming his signal lasso. Wayne tried to locate the rear rotors of the bio-mech. It spun like a jig, tethered on one end by the Rider\u2019s lasso. Wayne steadied his arm.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The pull from the bio-mech nearly yanked the lasso from Wayne\u2019s hand. He gripped the steel horse with his legs. The Rider yelled instructions to secure the lasso and they eased the bio-mech back to the ground. After a brief tussle, the Rider was able to flip it to sleep mode and the machine fell quiet.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNice work, partner,\u201d the Rider breathed, wiping his brow. \u201cHelp me get this open.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Together they pried open the bio-mech\u2019s access panel and the Rider set to work tinkering with its programming. Wayne looked over the strange creature. He\u2019d heard of organic machines, computers interfaced with mycelium, but he\u2019d never seen anything like this.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWhat is it?\u201d He asked finally.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cAn autonomous aerobovine unit,\u201d the Rider answered. \u201cSky dogie. Cloud cow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne opened his mouth to ask a question but too many piled up at once, sputtering through his lips in a nonsensical jumble.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cEasy, friend,\u201d the Rider chuckled. He looked up at the clouds.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThere\u2019s a whole \u2018nother range up there,\u201d the Rider said. \u201cPure openness. No fences. Just a vast ecosystem of aeroplankton and air currents. And we take care of it, yippie-i-oh. See, this climate crisis has thrown the aerial biomes into chaos, shifting wind patterns and humidity and everything like that. Results in these massive blooms of overcompetitive microbiota. Bigger than you\u2019d believe. Messes with the rains, messes with temperatures, everything. Our bio-mechs graze the overcompetitive aeroplankton, turning that energy into heat, water, and nutrients so we can grow food. These aerobovine units are roaming greenhouses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">He snapped a compartment closed and flipped a switch. \u201cThat\u2019ll do it,\u201d he said. The sky dogie trembled, beeped a few times, then lifted into the air and out of sight.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cSearching for its herd,\u201d the Rider said. \u201cIt\u2019ll find \u2018em soon enough.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cShouldn\u2019t we follow it?\u201d Wayne asked.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider shook his head.<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWe\u2019ve got a half dozen more to find. And anyway that one doesn\u2019t have the Magonia brand. It\u2019s grazing for a different ranch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">He turned his eyes from the sky and walked back to his steel horse.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody reached into the sky dogie and pulled out a handful of tubers. He dusted them off, then poured fresh soil and compost into the growing bin. He wiped his brow. Another Rider prepared to switch the dogie back on.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNot this one, Nick,\u201d Cody said. \u201cIt\u2019s being sent to Laputa Ranch. There\u2019s a massive bloom out that way and they need extra heads to graze it down. General Assembly needs to rebrand this dogie before we reawaken it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Nick scoffed.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWhy not just do it yourself?\u201d he asked, arms crossed. \u201cYou\u2019re a big fancy delegate now, ain\u2019t ya? You\u2019ve seen fit to vote away our dogies. Easy enough to manually hijack the neuro-link signal, so do it.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider next to Cody grimaced. \u201cDon\u2019t even joke about that. There\u2019s not much that would cause the assemblies to convene a justice tribunal, and not much that would get the unanimous vote needed to ground a Rider, but messing with a brand&#8230;\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cLiz is right,\u201d Cody growled. \u201cI don\u2019t want to hear that kind of talk again, Nick.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Nick hmmphd and walked away, leaving Cody and Liz to finish harvesting. Cody knew Nick was a hothead. It rarely bothered him. But there was one thing Cody couldn\u2019t shake.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cLiz,\u201d he said, \u201cis Nick right? Is it possible to manually rebrand a sky dogie?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWhy do you ask?\u201d Liz narrowed her eyes. Cody shrugged.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cI feel a bit silly, I suppose. My first term as a boss was over ten years ago. I\u2019ve worked other ranches, gone solo for a spell. Now I\u2019m a delegate to the General Assembly. Thought I knew everything there was to know about our herd.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cBest not to think about it,\u201d Liz responded after a moment, and she returned to her work.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider snapped the compartment shut, smacked the sky dogie and sent it on its way. He watched it disappear into the clouds, then kicked at the dirt.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Over the last few days, they\u2019d dodged surveillance drones, ditched a particularly tenacious Greenerton detective, been reported by a say-something busybody at a diner, and tracked down five additional aerobovine units. The Rider laughed through the chase but turned more and more despondent afterwards. And Wayne thought he knew why.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThat one didn\u2019t have a Magonia brand either, did it?\u201d He asked. The Rider looked surprised, but chuckled.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNo, it didn\u2019t,\u201d he said. He scanned the sky. \u201cI thought at least one Magonia dogie got separated with this bunch. Just one to help me get home.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cCan\u2019t you signal Magonia Ranch? Request coordinates or something?\u201d Wayne asked. The Rider didn\u2019t respond, instead focusing on cleaning his steel horse\u2019s rotors. Wayne decided the change the subject.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cIs there someone in charge of all the ranches?\u201d he asked. The Rider lit up. Each ranch was fully independent, he explained, governed by its own workers\u2019 collective. However, they met up periodically to coordinate rotations of their aerial feeding grounds, redistribution of cattle, all that. Wayne asked if it was difficult to change ranches, to ride for a different brand. The Rider just chuckled.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cRiders are free to come and go as they please,\u201d he said, tying his pack on his steel horse. He pulled on his red-lensed goggles. \u201cWe\u2019re even guaranteed by the union charter a stock of 5 sky dogies if we ever want to go at it alone. Most Riders do, at least once, just for the absolute freedom. They usually rejoin a ranch before long.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne nodded. That at least explained what the Rider was doing here.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">As they sped over the prairie, the Rider told Wayne to keep his eyes on the big clouds.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cOur cattle graze overcompetitive aeroplankton, but they incubate and disperse other microbiota and spores. Makes excellent cloud seeds.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cDoesn\u2019t the State see you up there?\u201d Wayne asked. The Rider shrugged.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWe have signal jammers and the like. And the ranches aren\u2019t so big. It\u2019s the herds you can actually see, if you know how to look. Dozens of sky dogies cascading over the clouds, rumbling like thunder.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cSounds like quite the sight,\u201d Wayne said.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cIt is,\u201d the Rider whispered. Then he chuckled. \u201cKnow why the State never tells you that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cEasier to keep us a myth,\u201d the Rider answered. \u201cIf they publicly acknowledge we\u2019re real, they\u2019d have to admit that people can live free and still be in harmony with nature. Look at us; no centralized power to coerce us into ecological responsibility, no state violence, nothing but freedom. Even the ranch bosses can\u2019t enforce jack. Voluntary participation from everyone. Heck, bosses don\u2019t even pick where we go. Sky dogies do that. The herd scans the atmosphere for favorable winds and aeroplankton blooms, and their collective programming directs their movements. We just follow, keeping strays in line and protecting the herd from rogue wind gusts. We round \u2018em up to harvest their gardens and then set \u2018em loose again. An endless drive through endless skies. And speak of the devil\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider slowed his steel horse. He tapped the radar display. A lone dot appeared on the margins.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThere it is,\u201d the Rider breathed. \u201cLast one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">He ran a scan through his steel horse, then he nearly tipped over.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cMagonia,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s got the brand. It\u2019s one of ours.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider\u2019s fingers trembled. He mumbled under his breath. The Rider seemed distracted, Wayne thought. Distracted enough that he didn\u2019t hear the whirring.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne spun, signal lasso in hand. He grunted and yanked, and the drone crashed out of the sky. The sound startled the stray aerobovine and it darted over a ridge. The Rider cussed. He tapped the drone with his foot, then scanned the horizon.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cGreenertons,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Liz grunted in agreement. It didn\u2019t seem fair. They\u2019d lost more than a few head of cattle in that last storm, and it felt like a slap in the face to have the General Assembly reject their petition to redistribute some cattle from the other ranches.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cYou know who led the opposition to the petition, right?\u201d Cody grumbled. He rubbed the graying hairs on his chin. \u201cBoss Nick.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cNick?\u201d Liz rolled her eyes. \u201cHaven\u2019t seen him since he switched ranches a decade ago. He always was a pain in the\u2026anyway, it is what it is.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody spat. \u201cHis ranch is the only one that can spare a few dogies right now. If I was a delegate right now-\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cWell, you\u2019re not,\u201d Liz reminded him. \u201cAnd you\u2019re not boss this season either. I\u2019ll submit an appeal. There\u2019s a right way to do this, Cody. Your old ass knows that. In the meantime, would you clean up those rogue dogies we found? I don\u2019t know which brand they have yet so don\u2019t switch them on, but let\u2019s at least get them ready.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">She left Cody alone with the hibernating aerobovine units. Cody grumpily washed them out. Not many bosses would lose track of this many dogies. He could guess where most of them came from. Once again it was Cody\u2019s job to clean up Nick\u2019s mess, even with Nick the boss of another ranch, even with Nick impeding their petition for units\u2026<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody\u2019s hand passed over the neuro-link signal lockbox. He paused.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The wind blew harder. Clouds churned in the ragged sky. The Rider pushed his steel horse onward, speeding over the prairie. Wayne tweaked the signal jammer. Every time they threw off one drone, another appeared.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Greenertons were bearing down, fast. But the steel horse still had a lock on the stray. Thunder rumbled nearby. And behind that, the groan of armored trucks and rotorcraft.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Finally, the pair caught up to their quarry, the last of the Rider\u2019s wayward herd, the lost sky dogie of Magonia Ranch. They managed to lasso it, and the Rider tethered it to his steel horse. Towards the storm, the Rider urged. He couldn\u2019t reset the unit\u2019s programming, not here, not yet. But closer to the storm, the Greenertons would be forced to land their aircraft. That was their window. It would be one hell of a ride, but if they made it, they\u2019d be free.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Battered by dust, Wayne asked if it was too risky, if it would lead the Greenertons to Magonia Ranch.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cYou still don\u2019t get it,\u201d the Rider said through gritted teeth. \u201cThey\u2019re the ones who can\u2019t risk it. You think the State couldn\u2019t find us if they really wanted to? I told you before, they won\u2019t. Because they need us. For all their talk about responsibility and solving the crisis, it\u2019s our herds cleaning the atmosphere and seeding clouds. We bring the rain. And they know it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThey\u2026know?\u201d Wayne asked. \u201cYou mean, all this time, they\u2019ve actually known that workers\u2019 collectives in the sky are the reason we have clean rain?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cOf course they know,\u201d the Rider guffawed. \u201cSo if we can get to Magonia, we\u2019ll be safe. They can\u2019t risk interfering. Hold on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The wind buffeted them, the sky growing darker. The Rider strained, pulling on his reins. Then another gust swept under them and the steel horse spun out of control.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne slammed into the ground, rolling over a bluff. He groaned, clutching his dislocated shoulder. He scrambled up the dune, grabbing onto prairie grass with his good arm. The Rider was there, blood dripping from his forehead, arms wrapped around the aerobovine unit. Beyond the ridge, Wayne could see dust. Greenerton trucks were coming.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne leapt onto the sky dogie and helped the Rider pry open the access panel.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cClimb on,\u201d the Rider said. Wayne stared, confused.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cSteel horse is bent up,\u201d the Rider said. \u201cI can bang it back into shape well enough to distract the Greenertons while you make your getaway. It\u2019s going to be a rough ride through the storm, but the dogie will take you to the ranch.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cMagonia is your home,\u201d Wayne protested, \u201cYou go, I\u2019ll stay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cThere\u2019s no time. Get on the damn cow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cIt\u2019s me they\u2019re after! You go on-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cI was banished!\u201d The Rider shouted. He cussed and kicked the dirt. \u201cRiders don\u2019t come down to grab the wicked. Down here is where the Riders <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">send<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> their wicked. Do you know what it\u2019s like to live in absolute freedom, then to lose it? It\u2019s torture. And I deserve it. I rustled, Wayne. I got greedy and I rustled cattle from another ranch. Tried to manually reprogram their brands and they went haywire. That\u2019s how they ended up down here. That\u2019s why I needed to find a Magonia dogie to find Magonia, because I don\u2019t know where the ranch is. But I can\u2019t return without making amends, without adding another hand to the ranch. I can\u2019t go without you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Wayne stood, speechless. The wind blew harder. The sound of trucks grew louder. Wayne opened his mouth to protest. The Rider spun and punched him in the gut, then seized Wayne and threw him onto the sky dogie. The Rider pulled the rope from his belt and tied Wayne down, securing him to the bio-mech. He pinned Wayne with one elbow, then removed his respirator bandana and red goggles, and pulled them over Wayne\u2019s face.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cRide true, partner. Yippie-i-ay!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The Rider smacked the sky dogie and it bolted into the sky. Wayne screamed as he watched the rider cheer from the ground, saw the Greenertons closing in. He shouted that he\u2019d tell Magonia what the Rider had done. He knew his voice was drowned by the storm. He still shouted it and shouted it until he was so far above the clouds that there was nothing else to hear but wind and his raspy voice. That, and something in the distance that rumbled almost like thunder.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody collapsed against the ridge, his body aching. He grasped his throbbing side, then grabbed onto his steaming steel horse. He sat up, groaning. End of the line.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The wind rattled the prairie. Dark clouds loomed over head. Just like the day he sent Wayne home.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Cody had spent months on the run after that miraculous escape. He\u2019d been tracked down, caught, escaped, tracked down again. He winced as he pulled himself up, then turned to face the oncoming vehicles. He threw his gloves on the ground, held up his fists. If this was as far as he could go, at least he\u2019d go out like a Rider.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p class=\"indent\" style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Then, a shimmer of red caught his eye. Cody looked up at a silvery break in the clouds. He dropped his fists, and grinned.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-2063 size-thumbnail\" src=\"https:\/\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\/website_7ac3e820\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/noun-heart-divider-2179926.svg\" alt=\"heart divider by Olena Panasovska from Noun Project (CC BY 3.0)\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\"><\/p>\n<div class=\"rounded-corners\" style=\"align-items: center; box-sizing: border-box; background-color: #56361c; margin: auto; box-shadow: 0 0 10px rgba(0,0,0,0.5); -webkit-border-radius: 100px; -moz-border-radius: 100px; border-radius: 100px; padding: 50px; height: auto;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1761 alignright bio\" style=\"margin-top: -7%;\" src=\"\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/Christopher-Muscato-Swirly-Frame.png\" alt=\"Christopher Muscato\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/Christopher-Muscato-Swirly-Frame.png 300w, https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/Christopher-Muscato-Swirly-Frame-150x150.png 150w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><span style=\"font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: 24px; color: #f8e3c8;\">Christopher R. Muscato is a writer from Colorado, USA. His work can be found in Strange Horizons, Solarpunk Magazine, and Shoreline of Infinity, among other places. He is a winner of the Fight for the Future Stop Copaganda contest, as well as the XR Wordsmith Solarpunk Storytelling Showcase.<\/span><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":1097,"template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false},"class_list":["post-274","stories","type-stories","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v28.0 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>Riders in the Sky - Roses &amp; Wildflowers Spring 2025<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"noindex, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Riders in the Sky\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Wayne glanced back at the sirens, then leapt onto the rotorcycle.\u201cNo, Riders aren\u2019t\u2026you\u2019re not\u2026\u201dIn the distance, sirens blared. 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