Free Star Trek: The Original Series - 162 - Shadow of the Machine by Scott Harrison Page A

seeing as you’re—”
    “An admiral in Starfleet?” Kirk interrupted.
    “Well, I was going to say his father’s brother, but I’m sure that’ll help, too,” Abner told him.
    • • •
    A knot of slate-gray clouds was sliding slowly across the evening sky, swallowing up the expanse of rich dark blue as they went. Kirk stepped out of the house and into the yard. The wind was starting to pick up, howling down the narrow walkway between the barn and the toolshed, kicking the dust up around his feet.
    The trouble with Uncle Abner was that he was too much like Kirk’s father, a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist who liked things done his way or not at all. He understood men like Abner—that’s what living with his father had taught him. Kirk prided himself on his ability to talk to any green crew, to calm their fears, to steady their nerves. However, a teenage boy who was still suffering the mental torment of his family’s death, that was a different matter entirely.
    Kirk had expected to corner his nephew in the toolshed, but the boy wasn’t there. Instead, he found Peter in the barn, tending to the horses. Kirk slipped inside and pulled the door closed against the wind.
    “He’s magnificent,” Kirk said, pointing to the pure black stallion that Peter was grooming. “What’s his name?”
    It took Peter so long to answer him that Kirk began to think the young boy might be ignoring him.
    “His name’s Airdancer,” Peter said at last.
    “Good name.”
    “I helped deliver—Uncle Abner said I could name him,” Peter told him.
    “He reminds me of a horse my father used to own when I was your age. Black Jack. Only he had a patch of white just here.” Kirk placed a finger on the horse’s forehead. “He was a spirited beast too. My father would only let me ride him while he was there. He used to say that if Black Jack attempted to bolt, he’d try to throw me, and I could end up with a broken back.”
    Peter glanced across at Kirk. “You used to ride horses?”
    Kirk nodded. “Still do, when I get the chance.”
    “I never knew you were interested in horses, Uncle Jim. I mean, no one ever told me.”
    “I’m a man with hidden depths,” he said with a smile.
    Kirk wandered over to the nearby enclosure and patted a white-and-gray mare firmly on the nose. In reply, the horse flicked her ears and snorted.
    “That’s Bella,” Peter informed him. “She likes being scratched behind the ear, but only when the mood takes her. Other times she can get kind of cranky.”
    Like Airdancer, Bella was a very noble-looking creature, and obviously well looked after. Kirk assumed—somewhat incorrectly—that this and the toolshed were Peter’s refuge from what he saw as the old man’s disappointment.
    A sudden gust of wind rattled at the door and the horses became restless. Peter leaned across and placed a soothing hand on Airdancer’s forehead.
    “Easy, boy,” he whispered into the ear of the black stallion. “It’s just the wind, there’s no need to fret.” Then to Kirk he said, “There’s a storm coming. The horses are usually the first to know it. I hope Uncle Abner got that lightning shield fixed.”
    “The big one out by the old dirt track?” Kirk said, without turning his attention away from the mare.
    Peter nodded. “Been down for a while now. It doesn’t usually matter, but this time of year the fields are dry, so even the smallest spark can start the fires raging. That’s bad enough, but once the wind picks up like this . . .”
    Kirk waited for the boy to continue, but when it became obvious that there was no more, he said, “This is quite a sanctuary you have here. When I wanted to get away from prying eyes and awkward questions, I used to come here sometimes too and talk to the horses.”
    At first Peter said nothing; he just continued brushing down the stallion as though his uncle had not spoken.
    “Of course, it wasn’t just the adults. I also had an older brother who would tease me