Frantically pressing on the bellows, Toby forced the fire until it roared. He wasn’t sure if the pressure inside his chest was from the need to get the paddles running as fast as he could, or desperately trying to impress his father,.
Barnaby opened the valve and the feed water started to run through the tubes. Toby held his breath. Was the drum really cool enough to prevent an explosion, or was the captain just desperate enough to risk it?
On her perch Polly swayed silently then edged behind a pipe. Half hidden by an old car bonnet, Hiko watched with glittering eyes. Toby wished he could hide as well, but knew it would be futile. If it blew, nowhere in the boiler room would be safe from the explosion.
The fire burned hotter and hotter as the feed water filled the boiler. Toby held his breath and closed his eyes. A large hand squeezed his shoulder and he jumped. “It’ll be all right, son.” Barnaby smiled. “This was kind of fun, eh?”
“Not so much.” Toby exhaled shakily. “We’re still here though, so I guess the drum was cool enough.”
“Told you.” His father’s smile widened. “I built her, after all.”
Toby nodded and glanced at Polly who was edging sheepishly out from behind the pipe, trying to appear as if she’d never hidden.
They strained to hear the sound of the steam drum starting to fill over the rain.
Toby counted under his breath as he waited for the whistle of the steam racing along the delivery lines.
The ship lurched and a crack of thunder reverberated through the metal, sending Hiko completely into hiding. “Listen!” His father’s fingers tightened on Toby’s shoulder. “Can you hear the steam?”
“I can hear it.”
Automatically the pair looked to the new delivery line as it moved and Toby caught his breath. But the steam howled along and it held.
“You did it.” Polly hopped on her perch.
“Get those paddles moving, Toby. I have to get back on deck.” The captain pulled his windcheater together and tucked his screwdriver away. “See you up there.” He slammed through the door and bounded along the rocking passageway.
Toby stood still for a couple of beats. Despite the situation, working so closely with his father was a rare pleasure and Toby wanted to savour it. But there wasn’t much time. As he threw switches, he glanced at Hiko. “We’ll be moving in a minute. All hands on deck, so you’ll have to come with me. You too, Polly.” When there was no answer he looked at his parrot. “Polly?” She didn’t move. “Damn it.” Toby patted his pockets. “I have some pellets here, just wait a second.” He pulled a handful from his jacket’s inner lining. “Why did you let yourself run so low?” He held the morsels up to Polly. Slowly she lowered her beak to his hand and started to hoover up the granules. Seconds later she fluffed her feathers and flew.
“Who’s a pretty birdie?” she asked, as she landed on his shoulder.
“You are.” Toby rubbed his cheek against her soft feathers. She was warm from the biomass generator that powered her. It was the tiniest and most efficient his father had ever built. In fact, Polly was the last remnant of Ford’s previous life. She was supposed to belong to the Greymen of St George, but on the day Ford refused to make weapons for them, he took his son, the AI and the Phoenix together.
And that was why the captain was the most-wanted man on the sea, why the Phoenix rarely docked, why Toby wasn’t allowed off the ship and why he had a bird as a babysitter.
Polly had originally been a real parrot. Creative taxidermy had preserved her original body, which was now stretched over a metal skeleton. Polly was more intelligent than half the pirates put together and she wore a faint smell of dusty feathers, metal and preservative. But most of the crew were unaware that Polly was not a natural bird.
“Let’s go.” Toby gave Polly a gentle stroke. “Follow me, Hiko, it’s time to join the rest of the crew.”
Hiko looked nervously towards the rain-lashed porthole.
“Don’t worry.” Toby forced a smile. “It’s only a bit of bad weather.”
Above deck the full force of the storm almost drove Toby to his knees. He winced as Polly’s claws dug into his shoulder, the parrot instantly drenched and half blown away by the raging wind. The sky was near black and the Phoenix’s mast glowed with a violet light that turned it into a torch.
“St Elmo’s fire,” Polly muttered. “Let go of the railing, in case the lightning doesn’t ground to the water through the Faraday’s cage.”
Immediately Toby caught hold of a fibreglass pole to steady himself as he stared overboard.
Behind the Phoenix the sea raged with swells as big as mountain ranges. Long sunken debris was tossed skywards. Toby ducked as a once-red lorry with a Coca-Cola logo was hurled towards them, as though the storm was angry at the Phoenix for attempting to outpace it. The pirates at the stern yelled as the lorry splashed down on their starboard side.
Toby gasped as the ship bounced on the shelves created by the deepening waves. Even with the great paddles turning, there was no way they were going to pull ahead of the weather system now.
There was a series of shouts from the port side and Toby turned, face whitening. Three of the main sails had been furled, but the crew was still battling with the fourth.
“If that sail doesn’t come down, the mast could break.” Toby pointed. “That’s where we need to go.” He turned. “Hiko?”
Toby realized that he was alone and turned to see the younger boy clinging on to the hatch. Hiko’s shirt twisted and flew in the grasping wind and his mouth was an ‘oh!’ of terror. “Come on.” Toby waved him forwards.
The boy shook his head, just as a wave slammed over the side of the ship. Toby already saw what would happen and was moving before Hiko screamed.
He didn’t watch the boy get pulled from his feet or torn from his handhold. Instead Toby clamped his own elbow around the railing and caught Hiko as he was swept past.
Polly tangled herself in Toby’s shirt as the boy wrapped his arms and legs around him. The three of them hung inside the acid-tinged wave for a long beat, desperately holding their breath, then slammed back on to the deck as it crashed down, exploding over the galley roof in a shower of corrosive spray.
Toby spat out a mouthful of wet feathers and turned his face upwards, so the rain could wash the stinging salt from his face, then he was up, but Hiko remained clinging to him like a limpet.
“Let go.”
The boy shook his head, frantic.
“I know you’re frightened but we’ve got to help.” Toby pried him loose. Then he realized that he was being too hard on the boy. “Why don’t you stay here? You won’t know what to do anyway.” He wrapped Hiko’s hands around the fibreglass pole. “Hold on to this and don’t move. I’ll come back for you.”
Hiko nodded fearfully. His hair lay flat on his head and he was soaked through to the skin.
Toby bit his lip. “I should take you back down.” As he turned, a whistle blew, loud enough to make Toby slam both hands over his ears. Hiko dropped to a crouch, shivering.
“What is it?” Hiko whispered.
“Arnav in the crow’s nest.” Toby looked up, amazed that the old pirate remained so high up. “He’s spotted another ship.” Toby shaded his eyes and peered out to sea. “Oh, ashes.” His face paled.
“What is it?”
Toby turned to the stowaway, his face grim. “That –” he pointed – “is the Banshee.”
“The Banshee?” Hiko lifted his head to follow Toby’s gaze. There in the distance was a former USS Zumwalt-class Destroyer, 180 metres long, bristling with old-fashioned weaponry. Most of it was computerized and therefore long-dead, but cannons bastardized from a Spanish galleon were welded around the Banshee’s deckhouse. Blue and violet St Elmo’s fire crackled around her hull, which was splashed with red varnish like bloodstains. A painted skull and crossbones gave her eyes of evil.
“The terror of the seas.” Toby’s voice trembled. “Thank the gods that you didn’t choose that
ship to stow away on. Her captain is stone-cold. She hates the Phoenix. If she boards us, she’ll rip us apart, take everything she thinks is useful and feed the rest to the junk pile.” His hands pressed against the Phoenix’s hull.
“What about us?” Hiko edged close to Toby’s knees as if the larger boy could protect him. “What happens to us if they take the Phoenix?”
Toby’s lips narrowed. “I-I’m not sure. She’ll try and collect bounty on the captain and some of the crew, the ones with big rewards on their heads. The rest of us…”
“Yes?” Hiko leaned forwards, rain lashing his face. “What about us?”
Toby swallowed. “Don’t worry about it, the captain won’t let them board. And they’re fighting the storm, too, see?”
The Banshee smashed bow first into a mass of junk with the sound of tearing metal and screeching plastic. Lightning flickered among the debris.
The crew of the Phoenix watched with grim fascination.
“The Banshee’s wail is the sign that they are about to attack,” Toby said, without taking his eyes off the sizzling sea. Finally he stiffened his resolve and turned back to Hiko. “If you don’t hear the wail, there’s nothing to fear.” His words were as much for himself as they were for the petrified stowaway.
Hiko’s mouth was a thin slash. His terror thickened the air.
“Do you hear the wail, Hiko?”
The boy shook his head.
“Then there’s no need to worry.” But Toby faced the Banshee once more – he could not stop watching her approach.
SIX
The captain was first to recover. His megaphone boomed over the roar of the storm. “Ignore the damned Banshee. If we don’t get that last sail furled we’re doing their job for them. Focus on the task, or we’re lost.”
Toby tore his gaze from the warship and saw the captain running for the bridge. He was right, the crew had frozen, waiting like junk to be taken as salvage. He offered Hiko a shaky smile. “Everything’s going to be fine, but I’ve got to go. Do you want me to take you back down below first?”
Hiko shook his head. “I’ll wait here.”
Toby was already backing towards the rigging. “Stay safe.” He turned and ran.
Ahead, Carson yelled instructions for tying the sail, and the pirates swarmed up the front port mast to join those who were already wrestling with it. The wind had gripped the silver material and it was being dragged outwards as fast as the crew could gather it in.
The billowing sheet dragged the Phoenix to one side and the port paddle began to churn air, uselessly. The Phoenix began to turn in a circle.
Toby groaned as several tied loops pulled free. Swiftly he grabbed the rigging and started to climb. Despite the rain lashing his eyes he spotted Dee at his side. She hurtled up the ropes as though the storm was nothing more than a gentle breeze at her back. She swung to catch the next stay, holding it still so that Toby could follow her.
“I’m fine,” he shouted.
“I know.” Still she made sure that his fingers and toes closed around the hemp before climbing onwards.
On Toby’s shoulder Polly made herself as small as possible, tucking in her wings and refusing to allow the wind any purchase. Nervous squawks drove Toby upwards until he reached the sail, wrapped his legs around the fibreglass pole and leaned over to help catch the flying sheet.
Beside him Big Pad grimly reeled sailcloth into his giant hands before tucking it into loops and lashing it tightly. Toby could not imagine the wind taking anything Big Pad had secured. Toby reached out to gather the slick material and began to pass it directly to Big Pad, wordlessly operating in partnership. To his right Marcus and Dee copied their system, Dee leaning over the mast, Marcus tying the gathered sail. Carson gave them a thumbs up.
Slowly the sail began to shrink – the pirates were winning.
A strong gust almost tumbled Polly from Toby’s shoulders. He grabbed the parrot and tucked her inside his shirt. “Better?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes glittering in the glow of the storm. “Who’s a pretty birdie?” she muttered miserably.
Toby wrapped his fist around another handful of cloth. Exhaustion was setting in, his legs were tired and his perch slippery. But he had to keep pulling in the sail.
Then every pirate froze. The sound they had been dreading screamed across the waves. The Banshee was wailing.
Nisha broke first. “We’re going to die.” She dropped her end of the sail, grabbed the rigging and began to shimmy down the mast.
“Nisha, wait!” Carson reached for the sail she had dropped. The wind caught him as he leaned and pulled him off balance. With a cry, Carson threw his arms around the mast, but let go of the sail.
Toby watched in mute horror as the wind swept beneath the sailcloth. It bulged under the material and yanked it from the hands of the pirates.
“Hold on,” Toby screamed. But the pirates had the sail held in loosened hands, their attention on the howling Banshee.
Pop, pop, pop.
As each tie was ripped free, the Phoenix’s sail opened and the pirates were yanked from the mast with it.
Screaming men and women were hurled into the rigging or smashed into the deck with the crunch of brittle bones breaking.
Dee and Big Pad, on either side of Toby, met one another’s gaze with wide eyes. Dee reached for Toby, but before her hand could close on his shoulder, Marcus was torn from his perch by the heaving sail and sent flying into the rigging. As he pin-wheeled, his flying foot caught Dee’s shoulder, and she went spinning after him.
The sail reared in front of Toby. He had time to see Dee and Marcus clinging safely to the tangled cord before Big Pad’s thick arms wrapped around Toby’s waist. For a moment the sail was secure as their combined weight held it flat. Toby let out a sigh of relief.
Then, from behind Big Pad, Ajay screamed. Toby struggled to turn his head and saw Amit topple. Ajay lunged for his brother, who instinctively grabbed the nearest hold – Big Pad’s leg. Toby had no time to react. Although Amit quickly wrapped his free hand around the rigging and released Pad, he had thrown them off balance and together Paddy and Toby toppled over. They fell to the tune of screaming pirates, the wailing Banshee and the popping of the final ties. The sail billowed free. It whipped into the storm and the mast groaned.
Toby’s fall seemed to go on forever. One moment he was looking at the sky, then the deck was hurtling towards him. Abruptly the ship pitched and, for a second, Toby was staring at sea-drowned junk, lit by lightning. Then the Phoenix tilted and slammed downwards, bringing the deck back beneath them.
Toby spun again, forced around by the strength of Big Pad’s arms. He found his gaze pinned to the silver sail, its NASA logo fully open to the sky.
The impact shuddered through Toby’s back and his head cracked against Big Pad’s. Dimly he felt Big Pad’s arms loosen and release him. His eyelids flickered. Struggling to hold on to consciousness, Toby heard the pirate’s screams grow distant and the Banshee’s wail fade into insignificance.
But then a new sound grabbed him by the throat. Toby’s eyes flew open in time to see the mast crack in two. It fell in slow motion, spinning on its axis as though it was going to be dashed into the sea. At the last moment the wind snatched the sail, brought it back round and slammed it down across the Phoenix herself, crushing the bridge like an eggshell under a boot.
The sound of shattering glass and smashing metal seared Toby’s ears, but it was the thought of his father, who he had last seen running inside, that finally sent Toby into oblivion.
“Toby, don’t be dead.” Small hands patted at his cheeks.
“Hiko?” Toby thought he had spoken aloud, but his lips were heavy and he couldn’t move his mouth.
“He’s unconscious.” Polly answered the terrified Hiko and faintly Toby felt her feathers brush his throat as she clawed her way from his shirt.
Then the darkness pulled him back under once more.
“He won’t wake up.” Hiko�
�s voice again, frightened.
“He’s had a nasty crack on the skull. Big Pad’s got a chin like granite.” Uma. Her voice shivered with grief. “I know you want to stay with Toby, but I need your help. Go to every pirate you see. If they talk to you, leave them, if they seem to be asleep, wrap their red scarf around their leg. Make sure I can see it. That way I’ll know who to help first.”
There was silence as Hiko moved off. Then hands wrapped round Toby’s shoulders.
“Toby, I need to move you. I have to get to Big Pad.”
Pain. Darkness.
Thrum, thrum.
The paddles were back in the water, Toby could feel the deep vibration of her roar as the Phoenix powered forward. The feel of electricity crackling against his teeth and skin was gone, telling Toby that they had finally outrun the storm, but the rain continued to fall. It no longer lashed Toby’s face – now it felt like tears. Relief eased Toby and even the wail of the Banshee could not keep him from sliding back into sleep.
Shards of bright pain; lances of light that stabbed Toby’s eyes and forced them closed. He lay in self-imposed darkness, his cheeks wet with gentle rain. His head pounded with each thresh of the Phoenix’s paddles. His back ached, bone deep, as if he had been trampled by horses. Slowly he raised a stiff arm and shielded his eyes. Then he cracked them open.
“You’re awake.” Hiko kneeled at his side.
Toby shifted as though he would sit, but Hiko’s hand on his chest prevented him. The Banshee’s wail was even louder now, the sound ringing inside Toby’s head. He closed his fists over his ears. “How close are they?” he asked.
Hiko swallowed.
“That close?” Toby slumped, then a memory screamed to the surface and he clutched Hiko’s arm. “The captain! Tell me he wasn’t in the bridge.”
Phoenix Rising Page 6
