Tunnels 04, Closer

patron saints of sick Topsoilers?" Eliza pressed him. "Because what we are is... is the laughing stock of the South Cavern!"
    Hemmed in, the Second Officer let out a small moan of anguish. He scratched the short stretch of neck that supported his broad head on his equally broad shoulders, but didn't attempt to offer any sort of explanation.
    The old lady had noticed the dribble on Mrs. Burrows' blouse and pushed past her son. Taking out her handkerchief, she began to dab roughly at it, her staccato words timed with each dab. "There's also talk down the market that the Styx are takin' a special interest in us... because of what you've done," she said. Then as she tossed her handkerchief on a side table, she raised her voice and shouted, "You've brought them on us!"
    The was a meow from the doorway.
    "Colly," Eliza said, turning around.
    The cat had come to investigate what all the fuss was about. She was a Hunter, a giant cat unique to the Colony, bred for its rat-catching prowess. She cast her large copper eyes over the three humans, sniffed loudly in Mrs. Burrows' direction, then slunk over to the hearth. Here, basking in the heat from the embers, she dug her claws into the rug and stretched luxuriously.
    As the old lady saw the cat settling down for a nap, she thrust an arthritic finger at the door to the room. "No, you don't, Colly! Out you go!"
    "Leave her be, Ma," Eliza said gently, as the grandfather clock began to chime, adding to the tension in the room. "Even if we've been banished to the kitchen, why shouldn't she enjoy the fire, same as this slothful Topsoiler?"
    Colly was slightly smaller than Bartleby, the Hunter currently in the center of the Earth with Will and Elliott, but she differed from him in that her hairless skin was of the purest black.
    Making herself comfortable at Mrs. Burrows' side, she curled up with a contented yawn.
    "Colly," the old woman said again, but the cat continued not to pay the slightest attention to her.
    The clock still chiming, the Second Officer took advantage of the diversion Colly had brought. "Ma, let her stay here. Instead, why don't I make you a fresh cuppa," eh offered, slipping his arm around his mother's bowed shoulders as he began to steer her away. "All this excitement's not good for your heart."
    Eliza hung back in the room, glaring at Mrs. Burrows' comatose form. She couldn't understand what had got into her brother. These people were the enemy, and this one in particular had been hiding something from the Styx -- hence the treatment she'd received at their hands. Eliza wasn't a bad woman by any means, but now her bitterness built to the point where she couldn't contain it.
    She leant forward and struck Mrs. Burrows across the face, a full-blown slap that left a red mark on the woman's wan skin. It was so loud that Colly leapt up in surprise. Then Eliza literally squeaked with her frustration, and stormed from the room.

    * * * * *

    AS the raised voices continued in the kitchen down the hallway, the twelfth and final chime sounded and Mrs. Burrows' eyes flicked open.
    "The dead duck lives," she said defiantly, then worked her jaw and touched her cheek where she'd been struck. "Temper, temper, Eliza," she quietly reprimanded the absent woman. As she wiped the spittle from her lips, she remembered the pin that was still stuck in the back of her hand. For a moment she chuckled, holding her hand before her and splaying her fingers as she examined the pin, which she made no effort to remove.
    Then she felt the damp patch on her blouse. "Did you catch my routine with the dribble, Colly?" she said, smiling at the cat, who was watching her attentively. "I thought it was a nice touch."
    The interrogation with the Dark Lights had cause untold damage to Mrs. Burrows' brain, and her body had all but shut down. It was only because of her autonomic nervous system was still intact that she didn't die. Fortunately it kept her major organs functioning, so her heart continued to beat and her lungs to draw air. And although she'd been in a catatonic state and on the edge of death for several weeks, she'd been cared for by the Second Officer and his family. With the regular nourishment and the constant nursing, she'd been bought some extra time, and with that time something exceptional started to take place.
    Week by week, the neural pathways in her brain, which had been so badly disrupted, had begun to reform and reconstruct themselves, like a computer autorunning a recovery