The Steampunk Pirates had not returned to England since their first daring escape from the king’s birthday party. It was wetter than they remembered. The Leaky Battery sailed into the Thames estuary under a cloud of drizzle. A long queue of grumbling pirates stood before Pendle, waiting to have their joints oiled and their bolts tightened. She was just dealing with a particularly difficult squeaky bottom, when Captain Clockheart appeared.
“Pendle lad, you’re needed below deck,” he said. “Follow me.”
“What about me?” said Blind Bob Bolt.
“Your bottom will have to wait,” said Captain Clockheart. “I need our cabin boy below deck.”
Pendle put down her oil can and followed the captain into the lowest part of the ship.
“What are we doing down in the bilge?” she asked, holding her nose to block out the stink of the water that had collected at the base of the ship.
“We’re here to see Bilge-rat Barney,” replied Captain Clockheart.
“Did someone say old Bilge-rat’s name?”
A figure stepped out from behind a wooden beam. He was so covered in rust that big rolls of it were flaking off him. He walked with a limp and his metal had warped to give him a hunched back. He was in a far worse state than the rest of the crew.
“Aye aye, Captain.” He saluted, knocking off a fresh piece of rust from above his eyes. “Hello, Pendle, I bets you’d forgotten about old Bilge-rat Barney, hadn’t you?”
“Of course not,” Pendle lied. “I could take a look at that rust problem of yours, if you like.”
“Problem? Old Bilge-rat don’t have no problem. This rust is who I am,” said the pirate. “I wouldn’t trade it any more than I would this rattling old head of mine.” He clasped his head protectively.
“Bilge-rat has been working on a concoction that should get us into the Tower,” said Captain Clockheart.
“That’s right,” said Bilge-rat. “Down here, I likes to spend my time mixing liquids and minerals. Sometimes they make big bangs. I likes the bangs. Sometimes they make funny smells. I don’t likes the smells.”
“Never mind that,” said Captain Clockheart. “Tell Pendle what you’ve discovered.”
“Old Bilge-rat has found a way to overcome all these soldiers without a single swing of a cutlass or shot of a pistol. Watch this.” He splashed through the water and strapped on to his back a pair of bolted-together barrels, with a hosepipe coming out the top. “When the two liquids in these barrels mix, they makes knockout gas,” said Bilge-rat.
“What does that mean?” asked Pendle.
“Have a sniff.” Bilge-rat lifted his thumbs off the end of the hosepipe, giving Pendle no choice but to breathe in the gas.
Everything went black.
When Pendle awoke, she found herself gazing up at Captain Clockheart’s hissing chin. She could feel the hot metal of his hands on her back. He looked down at her and smiled. It took her a moment to remember what had happened.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to do,” she said, getting to her feet.
“Sorry, lad,” said the captain.
“Till now, I’d only tested it on vermin,” said Bilge-rat. “We needed to test it on a human like yourself.”
“You were out for twenty minutes,” said Captain Clockheart, checking the clock on his chest.
“So you plan to knock out the tower guards?” said Pendle.
“That’s right,” replied the captain. “With this gas and Ridgey’s inside knowledge, the crown jewels are as good as ours. Still, I ain’t leaving nothing to chance. That’s why I’m taking the whole crew.”
“Including me?” said Pendle excitedly.
“No. Not you. Ridgey suggested leaving you behind to make sure the old ship is ready for our getaway. You can keep an eye on Twitter, too. We don’t want his big mouth giving us away.”
Pendle’s voice wavered. “Everyone’s going except me and Twitter?”
“Yo ho, down below!” called Blower from the crow’s nest. “We’re coming into London.”
There was a dense fog hanging over the River Thames as the Leaky Battery dropped its anchor and the entire crew climbed into two rowing boats.
Lexi’s word-wheel turned and clicked. “The Tower of London,” he said. “Founded in 1066 by William the Conqueror.”
“I don’t remember ordering a tour guide,” said Ridgey.
“Click, the question is not when it was built. Tick, nor who built it. Tock, but how do we get in?” said Mainspring.
“The entrance to the river is known as Traitor’s Gate,” said Lexi. “Named because of—”
“Traitor’s Gate,” interrupted Captain Clockheart. “Arr, that sounds about right, don’t it, lads?”
The crew cheered.
“Click, keep quiet,” said Mainspring. “Tick, this is supposed to be a silent approach. Tock, not a boat party.”
“Halt. Who goes there?” called a voice.
“Prepare the gas, Bilge-rat,” ordered Captain Clockheart.
“All ready, Captain.” The rusty pirate held up the hosepipe.
“I said, who approaches?” asked the voice through the gloom. “Answer or I’ll
fire.” When the guard’s outline came into view, Bilge-rat blasted the knockout gas at his face. He breathed it in and dropped into the water with a SPLASH!
“Good work, Bilge-rat,” said Captain Clockheart. “Gadge, get that gate open.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Gadge selected a bolt-cutter attachment for his arm and opened the gate.
Captain Clockheart scooped the guard out of the water with the tip of his cutlass. He lifted him up by his belt and threw him on to the riverbank.
“Now, where’s the treasure?” said Captain Clockheart.
“Top of the tallest tower,” said Ridgey. “I’ll go and check the lie of the land.”
Captain Clockheart grabbed the albatross by his legs, clamped a padlock over them and chained him to the boat.
“What are you playing at?” said Ridgey, flapping his wings.
“If you’ve been honest with us, then I’ll be back in a minute with the treasure,” said Captain Clockheart. “That’s when I’ll take off that padlock.”