Star Trek: The Original Series - 162 - Shadow of the Machine

by Scott Harrison

  As Peter kicked at the door, Kirk ran at it. The first attempt didn’t seem to have any effect, but the third time Kirk felt wood give.

  The moment they broke through Peter reached out and pushed his uncle aside, out of the path of the panicking horse. With the other hand he caught the animal’s mane and held her firm until she started to calm a little.

  “We can’t get out that way, not with the horse,” Kirk said, gesturing back toward the twisting curtain of flame.

  “No other choice. The back way is blocked.” Peter jerked his head toward the extinguisher at his feet as he attempted to soothe the horse. “Take that and point it at the fire. If you can create a gap in the fire long enough, I can get Bella through.”

  “How?” Kirk asked.

  “If I cover her eyes it should calm her down enough for me to lead her out,” Peter told him.

  Kirk shook his head. “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s the only way I can get her to go through,” Peter replied. “She trusts me, she knows I won’t let her get hurt. You have to trust me. I know her. I know all the horses on this farm. I know what they’re capable of.”

  Kirk knew that there wasn’t any time to argue, even if he could think of a better way for them to get out. By now the fire would be spreading its way across the roof above, eating its way through the support timbers. Who knew how long before the whole lot came crashing down upon their heads?

  “Okay,” Kirk told Peter. “You’re in command.”

  With that, Kirk scooped up the extinguisher and ran toward the flaming doors of the barn, while Peter took a firm hold of Bella.

  • • •

  The last of the fire had been extinguished and the emergency crew were packing their equipment back into the flyer when Kirk went to check on Peter.

  His nephew was tending to the horses, as Kirk knew he would be, soothing them as best he could after the day’s traumatic events.

  The horse that had nearly run Kirk down outside the stable was the stallion Airdancer. Peter had housed him at the back of the makeshift barn, inside an odd little enclosure he’d cleverly constructed from sheets of reinforced polycarbon.

  Peter was standing beside him, gently running a hand up and down the animal’s nose and whispering softly into his ear. From time to time his nostrils would flare and his eyes would rove furtively, but for the most part the stallion remained calm and still.

  Kirk stopped a little way off, keeping his voice as low and as soothing as possible, trying not to spook the animal that Peter had taken so long to quiet down.

  “I just wanted to thank you for saving my life back there,” Kirk said.

  “Uncle Abner says I was damn foolish,” Peter said.

  “He’s just spooked,” Kirk said. “I thought you were very brave.”

  Peter looked up, a little startled. “Did you really think we were going to die back there?”

  “Didn’t you?” Kirk asked him.

  The boy shrugged. “I dunno. Not really. I guess it just didn’t really enter my mind. I was too busy thinking about the horses to worry about if I was in danger.”

  “And here I’m thinking that you are afraid of the unknown,” Kirk said.

  Peter frowned. “It was only fire. Why should I be afraid of that?”

  “Your father was.”

  The boy turned and looked Kirk in the eyes, the young horse forgotten. “My father was afraid of fire?”

  Kirk said, “Don’t sound so surprised. We’re all afraid of something, every last one of us.”

  “You included?” asked Peter.

  “Me included,” echoed Kirk.

  “What are you afraid of?” Peter asked.

  Kirk leaned back against the makeshift barrier and considered the question carefully. “Being useless. If I’d stayed behind that desk in Starfleet Operations, I would have become useless, a piece of furniture. I’d be a curious old relic to be dusted off and trotted out on special occasions, but not ever to be used.”

  “Uncle Jim, did you really think you were going to die back there?” asked Peter again.

  Kirk sighed. Peter deserved a frank answer. “There were a few moments that were particularly hairy, but you had it under control, and I trusted you. That’s what being in command is all about. It’s something I learned at the Academy.” Kirk winked at his nephew. “Although I’d say on that subject there’s not much the Academy could teach you.”

  “It could have been avoided if the lightning shield had been fixed,” Peter said.

  “I don’t think Uncle Abner knows how to fix it.”

  “It’s simple, really,” Peter told him. “You just need to make sure that you regulate the energy pulse correctly, otherwise it burns out the relays.”

  “Sounds like you should go and help him fix it,” Kirk said.

  “I’ve offered, but Uncle Abner doesn’t like me touching the farm equipment. He says I’m just poking around, making things worse,” said Peter.

  “Peter, don’t sulk, just show him. I know you’ve earned his respect today.”

  Chapter 9

  SAN FRANCISCO

  Perhaps it was the night in the holding cell that had helped, or the fact that he was now sober. Whatever it was, Sulu was able to reflect on the previous night’s incident with amazing clarity. He knew it had been a bad idea to go out to a bar.

  His first inkling that the evening was not going as planned was when he suddenly found himself sitting in a bar over on Fourth, nursing his third whiskey, while surrounded on all sides by his belongings.

  The loud-mouthed engineer was just the icing on the cake.

  In Sulu’s defense, he’d been quietly minding his own business in the corner of the bar when the engineer had swaggered in with a bunch of his friends. It was obvious they were on the first day of shore leave.

  The thought of another night alone in the apartment had filled Sulu with dread.

  He knew that he couldn’t do it. He was not up to it. All this was still too new, too raw. Sulu had collected his belongings—they were still standing unpacked in the hallway—and locked the door behind him.

  On a whim, Sulu took a left onto Main Street instead of going to the shuttleport, and he walked up to Schar’s on Fourth. He had no idea why he’d chosen the place; he’d not been there since Uhura and Scotty had joined him and Susan for dinner last year.

  Any port in the storm, Sulu thought as he dumped his bags, sitting down at a corner table with a whiskey.

  He’d made up his mind: He was going back to the Enterprise.

  But, then, was it ever in doubt?

  Sulu had known that he’d choose the Enterprise, even before the shuttle had brought him to San Francisco. He couldn’t explain how or why he’d known this. No, it was only something you could understand once you’d served.

  Susan had known it. How could she not? One look around the apartment proved it. Susan had made a home for herself and Demora. There was nothing of his there.

  “You know I’m not going to stop you, Hikaru,” she told him as they sat beside the incubator with their daughter. “You’ve made your mind up, there’s nothing more to be said. Go.”

  “If I didn’t go back to the Enterprise, what else could I possibly do?” Sulu asked. “Daily freight runs from Earth to Saturn, or teaching at the Academy? That’s not me, Suze.”

  “Look, I’m fine with this, honestly. Go. Just don’t expect us to put our lives on hold, waiting for you to return,” Susan said.

  Sulu had only planned on sticking around Schar’s for one drink; after that he was going to gather up his belongings, take a walk down toward the bay, maybe sit by the water’s edge, then a taxi back to Starfleet Headquarters.

  But he was on his third drink when the loud-mouthed engineer came in.

  “You want a drink, friend?”

 
Sulu had not been paying attention to his surroundings; he was just staring into his half-empty glass and thinking about Demora and the look on Susan’s face.

  “Hey, you, traveling man, I’m talking to you!”

  Sulu looked up, toward the source of the voice.

  “Yeah, you! You want a drink?”

  Sulu shook his head. “No. But thanks all the same.”

  The engineer frowned as though he didn’t quite understand what the other man had said to him.

  “I’m offering you a free drink here, pal. I’d grab the offer while you can.”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Sulu said again. “I’m done after this one.”

  The engineer swaggered over and stuffed himself into the chair opposite Sulu.

  “Hey, you don’t want to go yet, my friend. The night is still young, and there are a good dozen or so bars between here and the waterfront. What do you say you gather up all of your bags here and come along with us, sample their delights?”

  Sulu cocked his head to one side and said, “You just got here, on shore leave, right?”

  “A couple of hours ago, why?” the engineer asked.

  “And I’m guessing that the first place you hit as soon as the taxi landed was the Century Bar directly opposite the shuttleport.”

  The engineer’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “After that you dropped in for one in Galactic North’s, the Absolution, House of Neptune, and Diamond’s on the way here. Am I right?” Sulu asked.

  The engineer regarded him in silence for a moment before turning to his friends at the bar.

  “Hey, guys, looks like we’ve got our own personal stalker over here. You been keeping tabs on us?”

  The group at the bar laughed, and the engineer gave Sulu a teasing look.

  “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude,” Sulu said. “But I’ve got one or two things on my mind at the moment, and I’d rather just have a couple of quiet drinks and then take in some air. No offense. I’m sure you’re a real stand-up guy. Some other time?”

  If the engineer was insulted by Sulu’s refusal, he did an excellent job of hiding it. “Sure, no problem. I understand. I’ll leave you to it. But if you change your mind I’m just over there.”

  The engineer got up to leave. “If you want me to give your ball-and-chain a call and ask if it’s okay, then I’d be happy to.” Then he winked playfully at his colleagues.

  That’s when Sulu looked up from his drink.

  He sat on the hard bench in the security cell, with his head in his hands, trying not to think about what happened next. If it hadn’t been for Starfleet Security at the far table stepping in when they did, things could have been a lot worse.

  Sulu glanced around the tiny interior of the cell and swore beneath his breath.

  Things were a lot worse.

  There was a soft trilling from the direction of the cell door, and Sulu glanced up in time to see the force field drop.

  He recognized the Security officer immediately.

  “Good morning, Commander. Are we feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’m alive and still in one piece,” Sulu replied sheepishly. “Probably best just to leave it at that for now.”

  “Do you think you can manage to stumble home?”

  Sulu frowned. “You mean I’m not being charged?”

  “You’d better ask your commanding officer,” the Security officer said. “He’s waiting outside.”

  Commander Spock was waiting for him by a taxi as Sulu stepped out of the detention building and into the bright midmorning sunshine. The Vulcan greeted him with a single arched eyebrow and gestured for the helmsman to climb aboard.

  Once he was inside, the door hissed shut and the taxi began to climb, banking around sharply until its nose was pointing in the direction of the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Sulu said, breaking the silence. “Are we going back to the Enterprise?”

  The Vulcan regarded him for a moment, then said, “The ship is not ready. You have five days of leave remaining. I believe you have family obligations.”

  This time it was Sulu’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “ ‘Obligations,’ sir?”

  “Yes.” Spock offered no further comment.

  After a while Sulu said, “Mister Spock, I thought you were spending your leave on Vulcan.”

  “You are quite correct,” Spock said. “However, as my business there was concluded, I returned to Earth to spend time with friends.”

  “How did you know where I was?” Sulu began.

  “The journey from Vulcan is long,” Spock explained. “I had Starfleet Command forward all reports directly to my quarters. I was somewhat surprised to see your name on one of the detention reports. It stated you were being held for brawling in a San Francisco bar. Most unlike you. I did briefly consider that Command was in error.”

  “I didn’t go out looking for a fight, Mister Spock,” Sulu said. “In fact, I tried my best to defuse the situation, but I guess I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Indeed. I have observed that humans who are in a similar situation, their first reaction, rather than try and cope with their problems, is to flee,” Spock said.

  Spock was suddenly aware of the awkward silence and quickly added, “That was not meant as a criticism nor an insult, merely an observation. The choice to remain in Starfleet or leave is always a painful one, especially when one has already made up their mind.”

  “I know it was the right choice for me, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling so guilty,” Sulu said.

  “You are not unique, Commander. Although I do believe you will feel guilt.”

  “How can I leave them?” Sulu asked.

  The taxi began to bank sharply as it started its descent toward Ocean Avenue.

  “That is who you are, it is what you are,” Spock told him.

  There was a slight shudder beneath Sulu’s feet as the taxi touched down outside Susan’s apartment building. The door slid open in front of him, and Sulu gathered up his luggage and stepped out.

  On the sidewalk, his belongings at his feet, Sulu stared up at the apartment building as though it were some huge, slavering hungry beast and he was the only man who could slay it.

  From behind him Spock said, “Sometimes we must do things that, although they might feel wrong, we know they are right.”

  Finally Sulu turned and stared up at the Vulcan officer.

  Spock told him, “I suggest you use the time remaining on your leave getting to know your daughter.”

  The taxi door snapped shut. Sulu took a few hasty steps back as the little craft lifted up, the air shimmering brightly beneath.

  He continued to watch it until it had disappeared over the west side of town. Sulu picked up his bags, turned, and walked into the apartment building.

  IOWA

  James Kirk flipped the communicator open and waited for it to automatically hail the open frequency.

  “Kirk to Galileo.”

  “Galileo. Go ahead, Admiral.”

  “I’m ready at the pickup point.”

  “Aye, sir. Our current ETA is four minutes.”

  “Understood. Kirk out.”

  He flipped the communicator closed and tucked it back into the pocket of his jeans, then he slung the bag off his shoulder and placed it at his feet.

  He heard the sound of running feet approaching up the dirt path.

  “Uncle Jim! Uncle Jim!”

  Peter came tearing down the track toward him, and for a second or two Kirk was convinced that he wasn’t going to stop in time, but he came skidding to a halt just a meter away.

  “Don’t tell me,” Kirk said. “I left a pair of socks in my room.”

  His words made Peter smile, and Kirk thought, You’v
e made this kid smile. You’re hot, Jimmy-Boy!

  “I wanted to ask you something before you went back to the Enterprise,” Peter said. “It’s about my father.”

  Kirk’s smile became just that little bit wider. “If I can help, you know I will.”

  “Why did my father become a biologist?” he asked. “I mean, why didn’t he stay in Starfleet?”

  “He told me that as a biologist, he felt like he was helping all of the Federation. That was the difference between us: Your father had the choice of Starfleet or everyone, and he’d chosen the more noble option.”

  Peter considered his words carefully.

  “Do you enjoy commanding your own ship?” Peter asked.

  Kirk took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It is what I was meant to do. I’ve always felt that in my heart. Your father did too.”

  “Did . . . did my dad ever tell you what he wanted me to be?”

  “Aside from happy and healthy?” Kirk thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. “He didn’t care, as long as you were doing what you wanted to and you were happy. The question is: What do you want to be?”

  The boy considered Kirk’s question. “I’m not sure. When I was younger I wanted to be a biologist like Dad. Sometimes he’d let me help out—nothing too dangerous, using the library index, labeling the specimens—but it was fun, and I enjoyed it.”

  “And now?” Kirk prompted.

  Peter shrugged. “I think I want to join Starfleet, but . . .”

  “You know, for someone who says he’s frightened of the great unknown, what you did in the stable the other day was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen,” Kirk told him.

  This made Peter smile once more, and in that fleeting moment he saw Sam from all those years ago, when he was Peter’s age, dressed in his cadet’s uniform.

  “Not really,” Peter said. “I just know those horses, that’s all. I’ve grown up with them, helped Uncle Abner train them. I guess I just know how they’ll react.”

  “Peter, the secret to being a good captain is knowing your crew, knowing how they’ll react, and how far you can push them.” Kirk pointed back up the path, toward the farm. “Like you did with Bella. You knew you could get her out if you covered her eyes, that she’d trust you with her life. A good captain knows that if he can alter the situation to his advantage, he can get the best out of his crew, just like you did.”