He could never quite get over the sinking feeling that everything was wrong. It drove him antisocial; he stopped going to work, to weekend town meetings, to the newly traditional cookouts. When he couldn’t stand everyone’s concern and judgment anymore, he rode off into the hills to where the terraforming had only begun to take hold. By the fire, under the stars, he could pretend he was back in Colorado, all those light-years away.
The horse was perfectly comfortable. It had been grown in a test tube from a newly thawed fertilized ovum; it didn’t know it was an alien.