Ten minutes later, the machine released its vacuum with a shriek. Nell 
tongued the door open. A knife and a sword rested on the floor of the M.C. She 
turned herself around, moving in small, cautious increments and breathing 
deeply so that she would not whimper from the pain emanating from those parts 
of her that were most tender and vulnerable and yet had been most viciously 
depredated by her captors. She reached backward with her shackled hands and 
gripped the handle of the knife.