Tunnels 03, Freefall

stood a bench and a couple of chairs.
    The front door to the shack was ajar, and Martha elbowed it open and trundled straight in. Will and Chester didn't wait to be invited, following her inside. At first all they could see in the gloom was a stone hearth in which cinders glowed, and some type of stove built into the side of it.
    "Put a log on the fire, dear," Martha asked Chester. "You can dry yourselves off by it, and I'll make us a brew in a minute," she added, as she lit two oil lamps hanging from the ceiling.
    "Yes, of course," Chester replied, but he didn't move, captivated by the interior of the room, which was deceptively large.
    "I'll get a bed ready for the girl," Martha told Will, slipping away down a corridor. The boys listened as a cacophony of bangs and grunts immediately started up, accompanied by a load of chatter as if Martha was talking to someone. She was clearly busy in there.
    "Just look at this place!" Chester exclaimed, as he and Will took in what was around them.
    "Map chests," Will noted as he saw three low-slung cupboards with brass corners against one wall. On top of the chests were a row of carved objects -- Will could see a figure with a rifle, and by it a cave cow -- one of the large arachnids that lived in the Deeps. As his eyes passed over the rest of the room, he could see that suspended in the corners were all kinds of other nautical paraphernalia -- harpoons, ropes and pulleys, a small net, and even a ship's sextant of tarnished brass.
    Then Will spotted several swords with wide, slightly curved blades, also mounted on the wall.
    "Cutlasses! You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed. "So she's right. All this looks as though it came from a ship, and an old one at that. A galleon, perhaps?" he said to Chester. "See those beams up there." He pointed at the ceiling. "They're bloody ancient, like they could have come from the Mary Rose."
    "But a ship... down here?" Chester asked. "How's that possible?"
    "I don't know. And how did Martha get here?" Will posed just as she floated back into the room.
    "Still haven't got that log on, have you, dearie?" she prompted Chester. There was nothing unpleasant about the way she was asking, as if a mother was reminding her son to get on with his chores.
    "Sorry, Martha," Chester said, with a smile. "I'll do it right away."
    "Good lad," she said, then turned to Will. "So you're curious how I came to be down here?"
    Will was embarrassed that she'd overheard him, and his face flushed as he looked awkwardly at his feet.
    "I was pushed down the Pore by my husband," she said abruptly.
    "Oh..." Will floundered, stunned by her forthrightness.
    "We were Banished from the Colony and lived in the Deeps as renegades for years. It wasn't easy, I can tell you, bringing up a young child in that hellhole. Then, one day, I suppose my husband simply decided he'd had enough of us," she said as she opened the lid of a basket and pulled out some blankets. "You could call it a divorce, of sorts."
    Martha was so matter-of-fact about it that Will began to feel less embarrassed. "Did you know any of the other renegades?" he asked. "Elliott was one of them -- she went around with someone called Drake. Maybe you knew him?"
    Martha straightened up with the blankets in her arms, and looked at Will thoughtfully. "Drake... no, don't know the name. Probably after my time."
    "What about Tom Cox?" Will tried. "He was like this arch-enemy of Drake's."
    Martha tightened her arms around the blankets, her face hardening into a mask of pure hatred. "Oh, I knew that scum, all right. I've always figured my husband fell under his spell... and it was Cox told him to do it... to get rid of us," she hissed, her words right as if she was suddenly out of breath. Then her expression turned to one of despondency and she relaxed her grip on the blankets. She sniffed loudly, then blew her nose on her sleeve. "Bring the girl so I can have a proper look at her."
    Will carried Elliott into the small side room. Although there was a sizeable bed in the center with a pair of rather lank-looking pillows, it had clearly been used as a storeroom of sorts. A pile of oddments was heaped against one wall as if Martha had just haphazardly thrown them there. Will could see a jumble of leather suitcases, an old tin trunk with ornate writing just visible on its lid, and many rolls of fabric. There was the slight scent of oil in the room as the lantern hissed gently, shedding its light.
    "On here," Martha said, as