She guessed she’d been locked in the makeshift prison cell for at least a night. When she was first taken, by three unseen people, and locked up, the place was quiet. Over the last few hours, like an industrial dawn chorus, various machines started up their unique voices. One rumbled a constant dirge, while another hissed and exhaled in short bursts. The walls vibrated with energy. Pipes overhead shook and rattled as gas and liquids passed through to power equipment in other areas of the subterranean engineering plant. Above it all, the metal-on-metal sound of the tram shook her room each time it passed, the frequency increasing every half hour or so. The room itself was nothing more than a maintenance hold, though its metal racking was empty of tools or anything useful. A half-used carton of oil and a bucket of engine grease were the only items of interest. The rest of the room was a patchwork of rusted metal and stained surfaces. Her cuffs bit into the skin of her wrists. A thick, graphene-strengthened chain looped around a metal girder making up the side of the racking units.
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