The Leaky Battery Sets Sail (Adventures of the Steampunk Pirates)

by Gareth Jones

  “Coal? No. Nothing to do with me,” said Old Tinder. “I haven’t had a decent batch of coal since we raided that Spanish merchant ship two weeks ago.” “That’s funny. First Mate Mainspring was under the impression it came from you.” “Clickerty-click, now you mention it,” said Mainspring. “Clickerty-tick, it wasn’t Tinder at all. Clickerty-tock, I remember now, I found it in the supply room.” “In the cannon room is more like it.” Captain Clockheart picked up one of the black balls and crushed it in his hand so that it turned to dust. “Either I don’t know me own strength or this be gunpowder,” he said.

  “G-g-g-gunpowder?” stammered Lexi. “If we were to eat that, we’d get more than indigestion. Our engines would explode.” “Cur-click, I thought it was coal… Cur-tick, honest I did,” said Mainspring. “I don’t believe you,” growled Captain Clockheart. “I see what’s happened. I think you’ve got yourself all wound up and concocted this mutinous scheme. What have you to say for yourself?” “Click, so what?” replied Mainspring, matching the captain’s tone. “Tick, so I tried to poison you. Tock, I’m the rightful captain of this vessel and you know it.” “Not while I’ve got fire in my belly and steam in my head, you’re not,” said Captain Clockheart. “Let’s throw him overboard,” said Gadge.

  “Let’s make him walk the plank!” “Tempting though it is, no,” replied Captain Clockheart. “Mainspring is misguided but he is still one of us. Lock him down below in the cage, with no more than a thimble of oil for the week.” He leaned in close to Mainspring. “We’ll sweat the mutiny out of your old cogs.”

  CHAPTER 9

  In which we find the Iron Duke on an island with a silly name, in desperate need of a cup of tea.

  According to the map, the Iron Duke’s rowing boat ran ashore on My Old Geography Teacher’s Big Fat Nose Island, although the locals simply knew it as home. Seeing the crowded boat arrive on the beach, the tribal chief led his people down

  to greet their visitors. Their warm welcome was met with the cold steel of gun barrels and swords from the new arrivals. After a brief battle followed by an easy victory, the Iron Duke set himself up in the most comfortable spot he could find, which happened to be a sacred temple where no man was supposed to set foot. In the centre of the temple was a huge clear jewel on a plinth. The duke was admiring this object when Admiral Fussington entered with a rolled-up parchment under his arm. “Ah, Fussington. Look at this stone. Isn’t it remarkable?” said the duke. “Indeed,” said Admiral Fussington. “I believe the locals call it the Teardrop of Wonderment. A rather poetic name.”

  “Must be worth a bag of cash, wouldn’t you say? Now, what news? Have you found any tea yet?” “Still searching, sir. There’s a wine made from local berries, which is very tasty.” “Wine? I didn’t defeat the French so I could sit around drinking wine. We are English and therefore tea is required.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll keep working on the tea. But I do have news.” “Good or bad?” asked the duke, eyeing him warily. “A bit of both, sir,” replied Admiral Fussington. “The good news is that we have made contact with the nearest English colony and a new ship is on its way.” “Well, that’s excellent news. I’ll be taking this teardrop thing, of course. It’s very kind of these locals to be so accommodating.” “Yes, sir. Then there’s the bad news. It’s about the, er … the Leaky Battery.” The duke’s expression darkened. “What of it?” he snarled. “It’s been spotted in… Well, perhaps it’s best if I show you.” Admiral Fussington unravelled the map,

  which was covered in black crosses. “What are these?” the duke asked irritably. “If they’ve been sighted in all these places, why the devil haven’t we caught them yet?” “Actually, these crosses signify where a ship has been raided by the Leaky Battery. It seems that they have increased their pirating tenfold and it’s no longer just gold and coal. They are taking everything worth anything.” The duke slammed his fist down on the map, making Admiral Fussington jump.

  “When I get my hands on them I’ll make them wish they’d never been made!” he roared. “Now get out and let me know when my ship is here … and my tea.” “Oh, there’s one more thing,” Admiral Fussington added. “What is it?” barked the duke. “There’s someone to see you. Someone from a nearby island.” “Oh, not another blasted islander who’s going to prattle on at me, saying who-knows-what.” “Actually, this one speaks English … of a sort. He’s from the Americas. His name is Mr Goldman, sir. He claims to have flown here.” “Flown?” “Yes, and he says he has information that might interest you.”

  CHAPTER 10

  In which our heroes board a merchant ship, hoping to raise enough money for the goldification process, but end up with a load of fancy pants.

  Captain Clockheart had forced the Italian merchant to his knees with his hands behind his head. “Please, I beg you,” whined the merchant. “Take-a what you want, but spare our lives.” “Keep quiet,” snarled Captain Clockheart. “What cargo are we looking at, Gadge?”

  “Mostly pants, Captain.” “What?” demanded Captain Clockheart. “The ship is full of underpants,” explained Gadge. Captain Clockheart turned his attention back to the whimpering merchant. “Explain yourself.” “These are not, as you mechanical barbarians say-a, mere underpants,” said the merchant snootily. “This is the finest silken underwear money can buy, the absolute height of fashion. Top quality.” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “I have no use for a pile of old knickers, which means you have wasted my time. If there’s one thing we don’t like, it’s time wasters.” Captain Clockheart raised his sword in preparation to swing.

  “No, please don’t,” said the merchant. “As I was trying to explain, these materials are worth a lot of money.” Clockheart lowered his weapon. “Ah, I see. In that case, load up the undercrackers!” “Aye, sir,” replied Gadge. “You heard what the captain said, you salty sea-cogs,” he yelled. “Let’s get this lot in the cargo!”

  “Now, then.” Captain Clockheart turned back to the merchant. “Drop your trousers.” The merchant shook his head. “In my country, a man’s trousers are considered his own private kingdom.” “If we’re taking pants, we’ll have the lot … so drop ’em.” The merchant laughed nervously. “While the silken underwear we carry has much worth, the crew and I wear plain underwear made from hemp.” Captain Clockheart swung the tip of his cutlass through the braces of a nearby seaman, sending his trousers dropping to his ankles and revealing a pair of baggy old brown pants. “You see?” said the merchant. “Worthless.”

  The Steampunk Pirates laughed as the embarrassed sailor hastily pulled up his trousers. “I see, all right,” said the captain. He smiled and placed a cold hand on the merchant’s shoulder, then whispered in his ear, “From the way you are quaking in those pretty boots of yours, would I be right in thinking that, unlike the rest of your crew, you be wearing silk underwear?” The terrified merchant nodded. “Normally I’d have your knickers off you in a moment, but you are the captain of this here vessel and I know how important

  it is to maintain the respect of one’s crew. Loyalty can be lost for less than a pair of silken knick-knacks. That is why I’m going to let you keep your pants on this time. Do you understand?” “I thank-a you,” said the merchant. “You’re most welcome.” Captain Clockheart bashed him on the head with the hilt of his sword and the merchant collapsed on to the deck. “That’s what you get for arguing with the Steampunk Pirates. Now, back to the Leaky Battery.” He grabbed a rope and swung across to his ship. The crew cheered at yet another successful raid, then began slapping their stomachs and banging their heads in time as Gadge sang a victory song.

  We are the Steampunk Pirates, Not the pirates of Penzance, We’ve looted ships from England, Italy and France, The pirate life is full of Buckle-swash romance, Gold is the best, But we’ll have the rest, Even fancy underpants (Your pants!) Your fancy underpants.

  Only Quartermaster Lexi looked less joyful as he inspected a piece of paper attached to a small wooden board. “Oh no, this will
never do,” he muttered. “What are you getting your knickers in a twist about, Lexi?” asked Captain Clockheart. “We’ve looted an average of eight ships

  a day for the last week,” replied Lexi. “Our booty is so big we’ve run out of space, and yet the total estimated worth of everything is just over two hundred pounds. “Not a bad start,” said Captain Clockheart. “At this rate we’ll need to raid over a thousand ships before we’re even close to our target. That’s not taking into account that the trade ships will start changing their routes, plus the cost of gunpowder and fuel supplies. I reckon we won’t have enough money until next October at the earliest.” “October?” replied Captain Clockheart, his steam spluttering in dismay. “Yo ho, down below! Ship ahoy,” cried Blower from the crow’s nest. Gadge pulled out his right eye to the length of a telescope.

  “New attachment, Gadge?” said Captain Clockheart. “Aye, sir. Pendle attached it. That’s no ship – that’s a rowing boat.” Captain Clockheart grabbed his own telescope from his belt. “Well, pump my pistons, if it isn’t Admiral Fussington.” “I wonder where he’s heading,” said Gadge. “Well, wherever it is, he won’t get there,” said Captain Clockheart. “After that boat!” Admiral Fussington was rowing hard but there was no way of outrunning a full-sailed ship and the Steampunk Pirates had soon caught up with him. “Ahoy there, Admiral,” shouted Captain

  Clockheart as the shadow of his ship fell over the rowing boat. “Leave me alone,” responded the admiral. “Is this another one of your traps?” said Captain Clockheart. “Go away. Please, I’ll pay you to go.” “Now you’re talking.” “I haven’t got any actual money on me, but as soon as I get home I’ll pay you … er, three hundred pounds…” “Interesting. Offering to pay off pirates. That don’t sound like official regulations,” said Captain Clockheart. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “What’s that in his boat?” yelled Pendle. “Nothing,” said the admiral, grabbing hold of a bundle about the size of a football, covered in palm leaves.

  “Allow me, Captain.” Gadge jumped down and landed in the boat, making it rock violently from side to side. “Get out!” protested Admiral Fussington. It didn’t take long for Gadge to wrestle the object from him. He pulled off the leaves to reveal an enormous clear jewel that glistened and sparkled in the sunlight. “Now that is one impressive stone,” said Captain Clockheart. “Where would that put our figures, Quartermaster Lexi?” “I believe the correct expression would be ker-ching, Captain,” replied Lexi. “Can’t you see what this traitor has done?” said Pendle. “He’s stolen this jewel from one of these islands, pinched a boat and, rather than declaring it to the king, means to sneak off and keep it for himself.”

  “If that’s true then I have new respect for the admiral,” said Captain Clockheart. “Absolute rot,” said Admiral Fussington. “Such actions would break several naval codes and result in my immediate imprisonment. I merely meant to take the Teardrop back to His Majesty as quickly as possible.” “Pah! In a rowing boat on your own with no guards?” scoffed Pendle. “This admiral is a disgrace to his rank.” Gadge climbed back on board the Leaky Battery and passed the huge stone to Captain Clockheart. “Admiral, it’s been a pleasure,” said Captain Clockheart. “England is that way, I believe. Come now, my combusting comrades! Snake Island, here we come!”

  CHAPTER 11

  In which we find First Mate Mainspring down in the hold, wound up on account of being so wound down.

  The metal cage down in the hold had originally been designed to keep animals and was easily strong enough to contain First Mate Mainspring. Seeing Pendle climb down the ladder, the clockwork pirate pushed his face up against the bars. “Cuh-cuh-cuh click, hand us that key will

  you, Pendle?” he pleaded. “Not a chance,” replied the cabin boy. “Cuh-cuh-cuh tick, oh, then be a … good lad and … cuh-cuh-cuh tock, wind up your old pal, Mainspring.” He spoke slowly, slurring like a sailor who had drunk too much rum. “One turn of your key is enough to keep you ticking along for the day without any danger of you getting too wound up,” said Pendle. “Cuh-cuh-cuh Captain Clockheart … told you th … th … that, did he? You don’t want to lish-ten to him. He’s so hot headed, he’ll end up getting everyone … muh-muh-muh melted dooown.” “The captain has everyone’s best interests at heart,” said Pendle, handing a cup of oil through the bars. “Yours included.”

  Mainspring took the drink and gulped down the liquid. “You’ll learn your lesson soon enough … and your place,” said Pendle. “Click, my place?” said Mainspring, briefly revived by the oil. “Tick, we all knew our places back when we were the king’s servants, but you helped us see there was more to life than serving others. Tock, didn’t you, lad?” “We all have to work together,” said Pendle. “Click, just a couple of turns, lad,” said Mainspring. “Tick, come now. It’s difficult to

  think shhtraight when you’re running so … tock, so slow.” Pendle knew better than to go against Captain Clockheart’s orders but she did feel sorry for Mainspring. “I’ll talk to the captain when he gets back. All right?” “Click, gets back from where?” said Mainspring. “From Snake Island,” said Pendle. “The jewel they got from Fussington is enough to pay Goldman, you see. They’ve gone to get turned to gold. You’d be with them, too, if it wasn’t for that nonsense with the gunpowder. Now, I’d better get up on deck. There’s only me and you on this ship till they return and, with you down here, that puts me in charge.”

  CHAPTER 12

  In which the Steampunk Pirates find that being goldified isn’t quite what they had hoped it would be.

  The Steampunk Pirates were crammed into Goldman’s tower. They sang sea shanties, knocked back tankards of oil and laughed heartily while they waited to get their brand-new, non-rustable skin made of finest gold. Everyone was in fine spirits and even Lexi was joining in with some of the songs.

  In the centre of the room, on a spiral staircase, Chas Goldman stood holding the huge jewel up to the light. “It’s swell,” he said. “Real swell.” “I’m glad you like it,” said Captain Clockheart. “Now, how does this business work?” “Something told me you’d be back soon, so I’ve converted this whole room into a lab and developed an entirely new kind of gold for you, as light as a feather but as strong as steel.” “We like the sound of that, don’t we, lads?” hollered Captain Clockheart. “Aye aye, Captain!” the Steampunk Pirates cheered. They banged their bellies, pumped their pistons and clinked their tankards.

  “What happens now?” asked Gadge. “You stay exactly where you are,” said Goldman. “I’m going to start the process as soon as I’ve put this jewel somewhere safe.” He went through the door at the top of the stairs.

  Looking up, Captain Clockheart noticed a large copper pipe pointing down at them. “What’s that?” “This is how we turn you to gold,” replied Goldman’s voice through the pipe. “Now, stand very still.” Suddenly, gold liquid gushed out of the pipe, drenching the captain and the other pirates. “What’s going on?” shouted the captain. “It’s paint!” said Quartermaster Lexi. “Gold paint?” exclaimed Gadge. “This isn’t what we were promised!” The paint continued pouring out. “When I said I needed a new coat, I didn’t mean this!” yelled Lexi. “You said you were an alchemist, Goldman, you scoundrel!” said Captain Clockheart.

  “Alchemy is the art of taking something worthless and giving it value,” said Goldman, laughing gleefully. “Can I turn a worthless pendant into gold? No, but I can paint it gold then convince the owner that it has been converted. Can I make you gold? No, but I can cover you with so much gold paint that your insides get clogged up and your fires go out, meaning I can hand you to the Iron Duke in exchange for a considerable amount of money.” “You tricked us,” snarled Captain Clockheart. “Oh, don’t give him all the credit,” came the Iron Duke’s voice from above. “It was your greed that led you to this conman and his greed that brought him to me. I was the one who ensured you came across Admiral

  Fussington carrying the jewel, then
helped Goldman set a trap that was impossible to escape from.” Captain Clockheart tried to climb the stairs but was knocked back by the gold paint that continued to pour down on them. “You’ll never take us alive.” “Taking you alive is not my intention,” said the duke. “In a few minutes this chamber will be full and you will be nothing more than big chunks of gold-coloured metal. This is how I will deliver you to His Majesty. Gift wrapped and defeated by your own greed.” “We’re all going to die!” squawked Twitter. “We’re all going to die!”

  CHAPTER 13

  In which things go from bad to worse and Pendle does her best to protect the ship against all odds.

  Pendle lit the cannon fuse and covered her ears. There was a huge explosion as the cannon flew back with the force of the shot. Unfortunately, with no one to help her, she had been unable to aim properly. The cannonball missed the huge warship that was drawing near.