Clash of the Rival Robots Page 2

  He picked up the lute and started to play. The duke and admiral looked at one another in confusion.

  “Hold what?” snapped the duke.

  Ralf stopped playing, pulled out an envelope from his pocket and handed it to the duke. “Please hold this. It’s the message.”

  The duke snatched the envelope and tore it open, then read the letter inside.

  “What does it say?” asked Admiral Fussington.

  “It says that the Steampunk Pirates are planning to rob the Tower of London and that we are to capture them.”

  “Thank you for holding,” said Ralf. “Please leave your message after the beep.”

  “What beep?” demanded the duke.

  The young man lifted the bugle and blew a high note. “That one,” he said.

  “Honestly. What nonsense! I can’t be doing with these modern messengers,” said the duke.

  “Message reads: Honestly. What nonsense! I can’t be doing with these modern messengers,” said the messenger.

  “No, blast you, man. That’s not my message.”

  “No, blast you, man. That’s not my message,” repeated Ralf.

  The duke grabbed the messenger by his collar and spoke through gritted teeth. “Tell the king that we will gather our men and go to the Tower at once.”

  The duke released the messenger, who checked his instruments were undamaged then brushed himself down. “If you would like to revise your message you can press this button.” He pointed to one of the buttons on his jacket.

  “Get out!” cried the duke. “Now, Admiral Fussington, we have an appointment at the Tower.”

  2. The last time the Fussingtons had seen their daughter was at the king’s birthday party, just before she ran off with the Steampunk Pirates and adopted the name Pendle.

  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?”

  “It’s nothing personal, lad.”

  “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.”

  The Iron Duke, Admiral Fussington and a hundred armed soldiers were standing on the other side of the Tower of London’s main gate.

  THUD came a sound from inside the famous tower.

  “What was that?” asked Admiral Fussington.

  “I believe that was the sound of a tower guard dropping to the ground,” said the Iron Duke.

  “Shouldn’t we go in, then? This must be it,” said the admiral.

  “All in good time,” replied the duke.

  “But if the Steampunk Pirates are already inside, then—”

  “Then it means they have a plan,” interrupted the duke.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because anyone who thinks he can rob the Tower of London without a plan is a fool. We know they are not fools because they have fooled us before. A fool can only be fooled by another fool. So unless you’re calling me a fool they have a plan.”

  “Er… Yes, sir.” Admiral Fussington didn’t have the faintest idea what the duke had just said.

  THUD.

  “Do you know how many guards are in there?” asked the Iron Duke.

  “I believe there are twenty-one on duty tonight,” the admiral replied.

  “Then we are nineteen thuds short of going in.”

  “But what if the guards are being harmed?”

  “If pistols were being used we would have heard shots. If they were being run through we would have heard swordplay. No. There is something else going on here.” THUD. “These men are dropping silently to the ground. No agonized screams. No pleas for mercy. But how?”

  “Perhaps the pirates are sneaking up behind them and knocking them out.”

  THUD. THUD.

  “Perhaps.” The duke nodded.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  “But shouldn’t we at least take a look?”

  “Oh, very well.” The duke walked over to a nervous-looking soldier and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You. Go and see what’s going on.”

  THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

  “But it’s only my first day,” replied the soldier.

  The duke turned a deep shade of purple. “Which explains why you think it is acceptable to answer back!”

  “Maybe you want to pick one of the more experienced men,” pleaded the soldier.

  THUD. THUD.

  The Iron Duke pushed his face up so close to the soldier’s that the tips of their noses were touching. “And maybe I want to pick someone new and expendable!”

  “What does expendable mean?” asked the soldier, his voice wavering.

  “It means that it doesn’t matter whether you come back or not. Now, stop arguing, get your bony bottom over the drawbridge and look inside or you’ll spend the rest of your career hanging from your bootlaces in a cell with no windows.”

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  “Yes, sir.” The petrified soldier saluted then raised his gun and walked towards the tower.

  THUD.

  “I don’t know what the world’s coming to,” the duke said to Admiral Fussington.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  “That’s twenty-one,” said Admiral Fussington. “All the guards are out.”

  The young soldier reached the Tower entrance. He glanced back at the others then opened a door in the gate. There was the sound of hissing and the soldier dropped to the ground with another THUD.

  “Interesting,” said the duke. “Did you hear that hissing noise? The pirates must be using some kind of gas to knock out the soldiers. Admiral Fussington, have one of your men run and buy smelling salts.3 We’ll dip handkerchiefs in the stuff to protect ourselves against the gas and then we’ll go in and capture those Steampunk Pirates once and for all.”

  “Twitter? Are you up there?” whispered Pendle. “Come back down.”

  The fog was so thick that Pendle couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, let alone spot the sulking parrot up on the rigging. She was getting nervous.

  “Come on, Twitter,” she pleaded. “The captain left us both behind. That’s just the way it is sometimes.”

  Pendle heard the unmistakable SPLASH of an approaching boat. “Who’s there?” she called out, fumbling for her dagger.

  No one replied but, out of the shadows, metal arms reached up and grabbed her. They knocked Pendle’s dagger from her hands and wrapped themselves around her, preventing her from moving. “Twitter!” she yelled. “Help!”

  “Pendle!” Twitter swooped down but a fist knocked him out of the sky.

  “Bring the bird, too,” said a voice.

  “WE WILL OBEY,” came the flat robotic reply.

  No matter how much she kicked and screamed, Pendle was unable to escape her kidnapper’s grip as she was dragged off the ship and on to a neighbouring boat. She heard the rush of water and the CLUNK-HISS of a steam engine as it began to move.

  “If you’re thinking you’ll be saved by your steampunk friends, then I’m afraid you’re wrong,” said a voice.

  A man’s face appeared in front of Pendle’s, eerily lit by a hand-held lantern. She recognized the white hair, wispy sideburns and superior look immediately.

  “Mr Swift,” said Pendle.

  “Indeed. And you are the girl from the king’s party.” Mr Swift snatched the cap from her head. With the arms of the Electrical Soldier still around her, she was helpless to stop her hair falling down on to her shoulders.

  “You asked about my engineering work,” continued Mr Swift. “I didn’t have time for you then, but I do now…”

  “Captain Clockheart will make you suffer for this,” stated Pendle.

  “No, he won’t. My automated paddle steamer is the fastest thing on the Thames. Besides, Mr Clockheart and his rusty companions have just walked into a trap. Forget about them – let’s talk about you. I would like to discuss how you can help me.”

  “You’re kidnapping me! Why would I help you?”

  “Because if you don’t, I will contact your father.”

  “My father…”

  “Admiral Fussington. Don’t try to deny it. I know who you are, which is why, once we get back to my workshop, you will tell me what you did to my steampunk servants to make them disobey their orders. You will help me prevent the same from happening to Tesla and Faraday, my new improved versions.”

  “They’re not improved. There’s nothing wrong with the Steampunk Pirates.”

  “Haven’t you been listening? By daybreak the Steampunk Pirates will be no more.”

  3 Smelling salts were potent chemicals used to revive people who had fainted. Not to be confused with the stuff you put on chips.

  Quartermaster Lexi, First Mate Mainspring and Mr Gadge followed Captain Clockheart into a circular room filled with countless crowns, staffs and orbs – all decorated with diamonds, rubies and pearls and made from tons and tons of glorious, glistening gold.

  “Lads,” whispered the captain, “with this little lot, our rusting days will be behind us.”

  “Click, what’s that sound?” First Mate Mainspring went to the window. “Tick, Captain, tock, we have a problem.”

  The others joined him. Down below, they could see hundreds of heavily armed men charging in through the main gate. All of them had handkerchiefs over their mouths.

  “It’s a trap!” said Gadge.

  “When I get my hands on that albatross…” snarled Captain Clockheart. “Grab the loot and let’s go. It ain’t over yet.”

  On the ground, a battle was raging. The enemy soldiers were quick to identify Bilge-rat Barney as the source of the knockout gas. It took three of them to overpower him but once they had pinned him down, they cut the straps that attached the barrel to his back and tied knots in the hosepipe.

  “You scallywags!” said Bilge-rat.

  “Good work, men,” said the Iron Duke. “Now we don’t have to wear these things.” He pulled the handkerchief from his face. “Steampunk Pirates, we outnumber you five to one. Surrender is your only option.”


  “Never!” Blind Bob Bolt swung his stick bravely, but sadly it went nowhere near any enemy soldiers.

  “I’ll chop you up like firewood,” bellowed Old Tinder, brandishing a mean-looking cleaver and wheeling himself into the fray.

  All around, the soldiers’ swords clashed with the pirates’ cutlasses.

  Admiral Fussington brought his sword down on Tin-pot Paddy’s head, catching him off guard and leaving a dent in his metalwork.

  “Ha!” crowed the admiral. “I’ll have you know that as a boy I learned sword fighting from the finest fencing tutors in the land. Who taught you, you oversized tin can?”

  “I taught myself, so I did … which means I make up me own rules!” Paddy stamped on the admiral’s foot and flicked the sword from his hand.

  “Assistance!” yelled the admiral. Three of his men descended on Paddy.

  Hatchet was also battling more than his fair share of soldiers, while Blower had climbed up the side of a building to take pot shots at the king’s men.

  “Where is that cowardly captain of yours?” demanded the Iron Duke.

  “Who are you calling cowardly?” Captain Clockheart emerged from the tallest tower. In one hand, he held a magnificent golden staff. In the other was a globe the size of a football with a cross on the top.

  “You’ll hand over the king’s treasure if you know what’s good for you,” said the duke.

  “You want these back?” said Captain Clockheart. “Very well.” He flung the golden ball and knocked the duke clean off his feet.

  “How dare you use the crown jewels as weapons!” cried Admiral Fussington.

  Gadge swung a golden mace at a man beside the admiral, but the soldier ducked and Gadge sent Fussington flying.

  Captain Clockheart and First Mate Mainspring fought their way across until the tip of the captain’s cutlass rested on the Iron Duke’s chest. “This will be the last trap you set for us, Duke.”