Tunnels 03, Freefall

cavern.
    "Sweeney Todd time," Martha said under her breath as she flipped the dead spiders onto the closest bench, then took hold of the murderous-looking cleaver. "You might want to take a few steps back," she warned Will as she raised her arm. "This can get messy."

    * * * * *

    On their return journey she announced they were going to make a slight detour.
    "Because it's dust puppy season," she informed him.
    Will didn't ask what she was talking about, thinking he'd find out soon enough. She led him to a large bank of soil steeped high against he tunnel wall. Will took some in his hand and rolled it between his fingertips -- it was rich and loamy, the sort or soil a gardener would die for. He watched as Martha seemed to be looking for something, then fell on a small opening. She began to dig away at it, clawing the soil with her hands.
    She'd dug half a meter in when she suddenly let out a triumphant cry and plucked out a wriggling object, the size and color of a newborn piglet, from the soil. She held it up by the scruff of its neck so Will could see it clearly. It had a plump little body, with four stubby limbs, no discernible eyes, but tiny white-pink ears tucked back against its head. It looked like an overfed and bald hamster. It writhed and twitched as she continued to hold it up, its pale whiskers vacillating and its mouth opening, but not making any noise.
    "So that's a dust puppy," Will said in amazement. "Is it a baby?"
    "No, it's fully grown."
    "It sort of looks like a little Bartleby. A Bartleby kitten!" Will laughed, then blinked several times as she dangled it closer to him. He stepped back. "Jesus! It reeks too... smells of..."
    "Urine," Martha said. "Yes, their warrens are completely drenched in it. Somehow they can live with it."
    "It's so bloody strong, it's making my eyes water," Will said. "Does everything stink to high heaven down here?"
    "That's why the dust puppies are left alone -- the smell protects them. But their meat is good... tastes like liver," she said.
    "I hate liver, and that smell's making me feel ill," he replied, the thought popping into his head that Martha was none too clean herself. He'd certainly never seen any evidence that she washed herself.
    As they returned to the shack, Will began to chuckle.
    "What is it?" Martha inquired.
    "I was thinking you'd better make sure Chester doesn't see any of this before you cook it," Will said, as he hoisted up the bloodstained sack he was carrying. "It'll put him off his food for weeks!"

    * * * * *

    Dr. Burrows was becoming desperate.
    "It's no good -- I need my drawing of the Burrows Stone to work out what all this means," he said, the small stone tablets spread out in front of him.
    "And where did you say it is, again?" the Rebecca twin asked as she walked slowly around him.
    "I told you -- my journal was left behind at the top of the Pore," Dr. Burrows answered a little squeakily, indignant at the girl's constant inquisition.
    "How very careless of you," she said, tapping a foot impatiently. "But you said you could remember enough to get by," she snapped.
    "I said I hoped I could, he countered. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, before replacing them again. "But I don't seem to be able to. And your constant interruptions aren't--"
    Rebecca made a move towards Dr. Burrows as if she might strike him, but froze as a high-pitched squeal filled the warm air. "Sounds like another of those spider things." She flicked her fingers at the Limiter. "Go deal with it," she ordered the ghostlike figure hovering behind her. The soldier brought up his spear -- a makeshift weapon he'd fashioned by binding his scythe to the end of a fungal stalk -- and slipped away soundlessly.
    "I don't understand... how is it you can speak to him like that?" Dr. Burrows dared to ask now they were alone. "He's a soldier."
    "Oh, he's much more than just a soldier. He's a Limiter... He's Hobb's Squad," she declared proudly to Dr. Burrows as she lowered herself into a sitting position in front of him. "Best, most fearless and most brutal fighters in the world. And you love your history, don't you? You probably think the Spartans were the toughest kids on the block?"
    "Well--" he began to answer with a small shrug.
    "Nah, they were boy scouts," she said sneeringly. "You give me a full-strength battalion of Limiters, and London would be mine in a week."
    "Don't be so silly, Rebecca," Dr. Burrows stuttered. "Why do you say things like that?"
    "Just concentrate