The Time Pirate

by Ted Bell

  Gunner tilted back his head and quaffed the entire mug in one draught. Nick instantly refilled it from the pot, and said, “One more. I need you awake.”

  Gunner downed the steaming coffee and said, “Enough! I’m awake and most anxious to hear your tale of survival. How on earth did you get out of the sinking Camel?”

  “Got my legs under me on the seat and shot straight out. She was going down fast, Gunner, clipped my shoulder. Lucky to be standing here, I think.”

  “Praise God, Nick, praise God.”

  “I will when I get the chance. Now, Gunner, I must hurry to the lighthouse to see my mother and father. I will tell you all of my adventures later.”

  A dark cloud passed over Gunner’s face.

  “What is it?” Nick asked, heart in his throat.

  “There was a German search party here a few hours ago. They’re looking for a young German officer who parachuted onto the island a while ago. A spy, probably. He has not used his field radio or made any contact with Nazi HQ located in town hall on Guernsey. They believe he may have been killed by an islander, and they’re looking into it. They went house to house all over the island rounding up various people to take back to Guernsey for questioning. And—”

  “And what, Gunner? Tell me please.”

  “I’m afraid your parents were part of that group.”

  Nick looked stricken. “Did they take Katie?”

  “No. I don’t think she was home at the time of the search.”

  “We’ve got to help them!” he cried.

  “How? Storm the prison? Nick, I think they’ll be all right. They don’t know anything about this bloody German spy, and I imagine they’ll be released soon enough.”

  Nick didn’t answer, thinking about the young soldier they’d buried beneath the oak tree. But Gunner was right. They were made of sterner stuff, both his parents. He’d no doubt they’d be home tomorrow or the next day. So far, except for the brutal bombing of the port, the Germans seemed to be treating the islanders in a fairly civil way. He decided the dead soldier was something Gunner, like Fleur de Villiers, was better off not knowing about and so kept quiet, thinking about his poor parents. There had to be a way to help them. He’d think of something.

  “Gunner, I saw a basket on your kitchen table. It looked exactly like one my mum has. What’s in it?”

  “A strawberry pie from the smell of it. I think Katie must have brought it up to the barn for us and left it there last evening.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “No, but I’m sure she’s somewhere, in a flowery glen, knitting bluebells into haloes or something.”

  “I want to have a slice of that pie right now,” Nick said, suddenly famished.

  “Think I’ll join you. But first, in all the excitement, I’m afraid I just remembered something. She left a note for you under the linen. It just says ‘Nick,’ but it’s Kate’s handwriting all right.”

  “Let’s have a look,” Nick said and headed for the kitchen, Gunner right behind him. Nick lifted the linen cloth and saw the rolled-up piece of paper with only his name showing. He said, “It’s too dark in here to read. Let’s go out by the window.”

  Gunner collapsed into his favorite chair. Nick sat at the desk, unrolled the paper, and began to read.

  “What’s it say?” Gunner asked, looking at Nick. The boy had gone white as a sheet and put his head in his hands.

  “Nick, c’mon, lad, it can’t be as bad as all that.”

  “Yes, it can,” the boy said, his eyes brimming with tears.

  “Well, what is it, for all love?”

  “The Nazis have got my parents. And, now, Billy Blood’s got Katie.”

  “What? God help us, that blackguard Blood is back? Took that little angel? Why?”

  “He wants my golden ball. Only now it’s in exchange for my sister’s life. He says he’ll slit her throat if I don’t appear within the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Where? Where does he have her? We’ll go and fetch her right from under his wretched nose, by heaven!”

  Nick had a magnifying glass out, studying Kate’s scribblings, mostly numbers. “Have you your maritime charts nearby?”

  “Right in the drawer in front of you.”

  Nick wiped his eyes and pulled out a sheaf of navigational charts, placing them on the desk before him.

  “Obviously Blood forced her to write this ransom note. She’s put down the longitude and latitude coordinates, the time and place where she’s held captive. And the hour of the deadline.”

  “Where’s he taken her?”

  Nick got up, handed Gunner Kate’s note, and said, “Read the coordinates out loud, Gunner, and I’ll locate that devil on the chart.”

  As Gunner slowly read the numbers out, Nick flipped through the maritime charts until he found the right one. “The Ca ribbe an, well, that’s a start,” he said, running his finger over the chart until it stopped on 18 degrees north latitude, 76 degrees 50 minutes west longitude, the precise location Gunner had just given him.

  Gunner bent over Nick’s shoulder to get a look and said, “Jamaica.”

  “Aye, Jamaica all right. The town of Port Royal. A piratical haven, if ever there was one.”

  “He’s taken her back in time, too, hasn’t he, lad?”

  “Yes.”

  “What date does he want to meet?”

  “First October, 1781. Before the sun sets.”

  “We should retrieve the golden orb from its hidey-hole in the Armoury and make preparations for the time trip,” Gunner said. “A wee girl, brave as she is, held captive in a den of murderin’ pirates? She shouldn’t remain there a minute longer than she has to.”

  “Yes. Listen, Gunner, I’ve an idea. Just the beginning of one, but it holds promise. There is only one possible way to effect Katie’s rescue, but I’m going to need Commander Hobbes’s help. He and Lord Hawke are preparing to shut down the castle and to leave for England soon, so we’ve got to be quick about it. May I use your telephone? I want to call the commander and tell him we’re on our way to the castle with a favor to ask.”

  “What’s yer plan, boy?”

  “Don’t ask. There’s no time. Please go up the Armoury and fetch us the orb!”

  Gunner returned to the Greybeard Inn’s lounge, polishing Nick’s golden orb with a soft cloth. This miraculous machine, built by Leonardo da Vinci and bequeathed to Nick by his beloved ancestor, Captain McIver of the Royal Navy, gleamed like the sun itself, casting sharp shafts of golden beams on the walls and ceiling.

  “Beautiful thing,” Gunner said, “sends a right chill up my spine every time I look at it.”

  The boy said, “If this works the way I intend, we’ll have Kate home before sundown. Even if my parents are lucky and are released early, Kate will be home before they even know she was kidnapped!”

  “Lad! Do you think we can manage all that?”

  “Of course we can.” Nick laughed. “We’ve got a time machine, remember? Time is on our side. Once we’ve got her safely away from Blood’s lair, we just return here, to the inn on this very morning!”

  “Your parents will never even know?”

  “Isn’t that a good thing, Gunner? To save them all the worry? They’ve got more than enough to worry about at the moment, haven’t they?”

  “Aye. If we succeed.”

  “If we succeed, Gunner? Of course we will succeed. We must. And that’s part of my plan,” Nick said. “Now, come along, we must get to Hawke Castle at once and explain the situation to his lordship and Commander Hobbes. They are critical to a successful rescue mission.”

  And out the door they went, both of them knowing there was dire trouble ahead, no matter what the plan was. Billy Blood was a wily, vicious, and cruel man. And extricating Kate from his clutches would be no spring stroll in the garden. But Nick, Gunner, and Hawke had crossed swords with Captain William Blood before, and they had won.

  Nick believed in his heart of hearts that he and Gunner ju
st might be able to do it again. What was a battle for, if not for winning?

  26

  LORD HAWKE’S TROJAN HORSE

  A sudden storm was threatening and Hawke Castle looked dark and foreboding. It stood atop the cliff, thrusting toward a lowering sky of black clouds sparking with lightning. Nick and Gunner were silent as they climbed the hill that led to Lord Hawke’s hulking Gothic residence. Both of them were thinking the same thing. This would be their one and only chance to save little Katie.

  As they approached the forbidding iron gates at the entrance, they saw the towering clouds begin to spit rain. Inside the castle, two of the most brilliant men in all England were waiting. Without their help, all would be lost.

  Nick saw brand-new signs mounted all along the iron fence, frightening things, warning KEEP OUT! and that the surrounding barbed-wire fence was electrified to ten thousand volts. The signs were, Nick noticed, printed in both English and German. Each one depicted a large red jagged bolt of electricity piercing a skull and crossbones. It was certainly enough to scare anyone away.

  “I think His Lordship’s trying to say, ‘Pop in for tea any time,’ ” Gunner grumbled. He had never been comfortable here. Too many old tales of ghosts and spirits for his liking.

  “He has to protect the castle during the occupation. Lord Hawke is joining Churchill’s war cabinet. Part of a new counterespionage unit. He and Hobbes may be away for the balance of the war,” Nick said. “This is, after all, a secret British military installation.”

  “So how do we get in, Master Nick?”

  “Easy.” Nick bent to push a nearly invisible black button on the back side of the bottom of a gatepost.

  “Yes?” came a deep voice over a hidden speaker.

  “Hobbes, it’s Nick and Gunner.”

  “Ah, good. I’ll buzz you in straightaway.”

  Minutes later, they entered the great hall. Every single piece of furniture had been covered with dust-cloths, as had all the art and sculpture. It seemed to Nick like a castle filled with silent ghosts. There were a few uncovered chairs before the massive fire roaring in the hearth, and Lord Hawke was sitting in one of them, one leg hooked over the arm of his chair, enjoying his tea.

  He stood to greet them. “Nicholas! Gunner! What joy to see you both. We’re shoving off for the mainland tomorrow, you know, closing the old pile down for the duration. I’ve already sent little Alex and Annabel to Hawkesmoor in the Gloucestershire countryside. Pull up a chair and sit down, won’t you both? Hobbes and I are just having tea.”

  “Welcome,” Hobbes said, pouring tea for them and offering a tray of cakes.

  Hobbes cleared his throat and said, “Nick, I must tell you I am at an absolute loss for words to describe my reaction to your mischief over on Guernsey in the wee hours last evening. His Lordship and I saw the fiery effects of your daring raid on the aerodrome last night. I must say you wreaked havoc on those bloody Jerries. Surely you took some antiaircraft fire? But you obviously managed to get the Camel home safe?”

  “Afraid not,” Nick said, looking down at his feet. “She lies in about thirty feet of water.”

  Lord Hawke looked at Nick. “Bad luck. But look at it this way. She was built in 1917 to fight the Germans, and fight them she did. And now, thanks to you and Gunner, she lived to fight them another day. Went out in a blaze of glory, too, I daresay. Well done!”

  “I don’t know about glory, but she was certainly blazing,” Nick said, a hint of a smile forming around his eyes. The truth was he had actually enjoyed the air raid and his narrow escape from the Germans. He’d always hoped that someday he might get the chance to become a true hero and come to the aid of his country. His one regret was that the beautiful aeroplane was lost . . . and, with it, his opportunities of future air attacks on the Nazis.

  Hobbes seemed to have been reading his mind. “You know, she may be salvageable.”

  “What?” Nick said. “How on earth?”

  “Relatively simple matter. A diver goes down and attaches numerous canvas bladders with air hoses. Wait for a dark night, position a boat with an air pump above her. Inflate the bladders and she’ll pop right to the surface and you tow her home.”

  “Excellent idea,” Hawke said, “and the time may well come when we do that, but right now I have the feeling there are more pressing problems.”

  Hawke leaned forward and looked at Nick and Gunner. “Nick, when you rang, you said you had two urgent matters to discuss. Let’s get right to it. We haven’t much time. A Royal Navy submarine is picking the commander and me up inside Hawke Lagoon at dawn.”

  Nick drew a deep breath and let it all out. “Two things, sir. The Nazis have imprisoned my parents, sir. Took them to the Guernsey prison, where they are being interrogated.”

  “Interrogated about what?”

  “About a missing German parachutist on Greybeard Island.”

  “Surely they don’t know anything about that?”

  Nick looked at Gunner, now wishing he’d told the truth. “They do, I’m afraid. My father does, at any rate. I found the German soldier myself, hanging in a tree from his chute. He was already dead and we buried him.”

  “I can help there, Nicholas,” Hawke said. “Fleur de Villiers has the new Nazi Kommandant wrapped around her little finger. One word from her, and your parents will be treated with kid gloves, I assure you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Nick said, much relieved. He was surprised he hadn’t thought of contacting her himself. Then he remembered that the Germans had cut all the undersea telephone cables. No doubt Lord Hawke had other ways of communicating with her, of course.

  “And the other matter, Nick?” Hobbes said.

  Nick turned and looked directly at him. His eyes blazing with anger and resolve. “Billy Blood has kidnapped my sister, Kate.”

  “Good Lord,” Hobbes said, his teacup rattling, hot tea sloshing over the rim. Hawke got to his feet, visibly shaken. Billy Blood has Kate! You do have a lot on your plate, Nick. Any idea where he’s taken her?”

  “There was a ransom note, written in Kate’s hand. She’s been taken to Port Royal, Jamaica.”

  “What year?” Hawke asked.

  “In the year 1781.”

  “No doubt what ransom he’s after,” Hobbes said, a worried frown on his face.

  “Of course, Hobbes. He wants possession of the second Tempus Machina,” Hawke murmured, gazing into the fire thoughtfully. “He won’t rest until he gets it.”

  Nick said, “He threatens to hang Katie by her heels and slit her throat if I don’t arrive with the golden orb in hand within forty-eight hours.”

  “You can’t let him have it, Nick,” Hawke said with great conviction. “You simply cannot do it. It would make that devil powerful beyond imagination. With possession of both time machines, he would be unreachable.”

  “I know that, sir, and that’s why I don’t intend to give it to him.”

  “You have a plan, Nick?” Hobbes asked. “A ruse de guerre?”

  “What’s that?” Gunner asked.”

  “A trick of war,” Hawke translated. “Like the Trojan horse. Please proceed, Nick. We obviously need some kind of scheme, and we need it now.”

  “This may sound a bit cockeyed, but . . .”

  “Don’t be shy, lad, spit it out.”

  Nick clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth before the fire. “Well, Hobbes, I was thinking, perhaps it might be possible to create another Tempus Machina. Not a working one, of course. But an exact replica of my own, to the last detail. Down in your laboratory. It has to be absolutely identical to the real thing, inside and out.”

  “You exchange the fake one for your sister’s freedom.”

  “Yes. And by the time Old Bill realizes he’s been tricked, I hope we’ll be long gone. I’ve thought long and hard about this. I think it’s our only chance.”

  “I think it’s brilliant,” Hawke said. “And with a little luck, it might actually work.”


  “Can you make one, Commander?” Nick said, hope gleaming in his eyes, “A perfect simulation of Da Vinci’s time engine?”

  Hobbes smiled and said, “I can make anything in that laboratory, Nick. Anything in the world.”

  “Needless to say, it won’t need to be a working model,” Hawke said. “The minute Blood tries to actually use it, he’ll know it’s a fake.”

  “It doesn’t have to actually work, sir. It just needs to buy me and Gunner enough time alone with my sister so we might escape using the real machine.”

  “Would you like Hobbes and me to accompany you, Nick? We’d be happy to help in any way we can.”

  “Thank you, sir. I knew you would offer. But I think that Gunner and I, in some kind of disguise, stand a better chance alone.”

  “If you don’t return, there’s no way on earth we can ever find you again, Nick,” Hawke said, “ever.”

  “I know that, sir. But I believe in my heart we can succeed.”

  “Well then,” Hobbes said, getting to his feet, “we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us down in the lab. You’ve brought the real machine?”

  Nick stuck his right hand inside his shirt and withdrew the orb from the hidden leather pouch that hung beneath his arm. Hobbes took it and examined it carefully.

  “We’ll need real gold, of course. Do we have any gold bars left in the vault, Your Lordship? Any bullion at all?”

  “Afraid not. It all went out with the last shipment. It sits safely in the Bank of England vault now.”

  “That’s a problem, then,” Hobbes said, rubbing his chin. “Difficult to simulate real gold to a man like Blood who deals in the stuff every day. He just might test it before he agrees to the exchange.”

  “Test it?” Gunner asked, “How would he do that?”

  “Quite simply,” Hobbes replied. “He’ll splash it with a glass stopper which has been filled with nitric acid. If it’s pure gold, twenty-four-karat, it will remain untouched and unchanged; if not, the solution will become blue from the formation of nitrate copper. False gold, you see, always contains copper.”

  “So, we can’t do it,” Nick said, crestfallen.