I'm quite sure we've come all the way to this building to stash away my sister's information. Certainly, we can't do that if there's nothing left to hack anymore. Oakley's data are gone, which only means one thing—something has happened to Oakley.

My sweat turns cold the longer I stare and absorb Oliver's words; each syllables seem to echo at the back of my head. There are plenty of reasons why Oliver couldn't hack her data. Maybe Oakley has done it by herself; she's clever enough to do that, or maybe her coworkers help her do it, or maybe Oliver isn't trying enough.

"Are you sure there's nothing left, Oliver? How about the department's database? Have you hacked it? Maybe all her data's hidden there," I blabber, my words eating off each other. 

I can hardly keep up with all the thoughts clogging my mind in an attempt to dispel the more implied reason for this to happen: Oakley's in danger. Somebody might've turned her in.

Oliver's lips part then closes again; his eyes turning everywhere but me. He rakes his matted hair angrily for the millionth time, and sweat starts to drip down upon his forehead. Before he could speak up, Farhan intercepts.

"Hey, the two of you, I'm sure Nano Depth has another hacking system in progress. Oliver and the other workers in Room 29 aren't the only hackers here. Maybe someone else within the agency has already did it for us. Trust me, it already happened before," Farhan says, clamping onto our shoulders like an adult; her words brought up another string of hope in me, and it's the only possibility I'd rather cling into.

"Right, and that's what I'm actually about to check out when the two of you suddenly popped out of nowhere," Oliver snaps, his glare darting to Farhan, but Farhan seems unaffected nonetheless; she squares her shoulder and stares up to Oliver as though she's just about his age.

"Kiera just wants to make sure, is all," Farhan says in a monotone, and if there ever is an emotion on her face, then she might've tucked it well beneath her skin.

I mutedly nod in assurance.

"I told you to wait for my return," Oliver states, raking his matted hair again, obviously trying to hold control of his temper.

Farhan, on the other hand, stares blankly at him like a curious child; she flips back a lock of her hair and presses her lips ruefully as though a muted way of asking pardon. She deals well with an annoyed Oliver. I'd say they probably know each other for quite some time already. At home, Oliver barely gets exasperated; he's mostly bashful, but when he does get annoyed, we couldn't handle each other, and, more often than not, we end up like bickering siblings.

"I told Farhan to bring me to you. And she decided to tour me as well. It wouldn't be bad, would it? Considering we'll be staying here for some time," I say, albeit my reason seems dumb.

"We won't stay for long," Oliver says in knitted teeth and turns to face me.

Farhan's grip on our shoulder tightens. "What?" Farhan says in disbelief, her brows furrowing. "And where else are you planning to go? Both of you are being hunted, all of us; this underground city is the only place where no one watches your every move," she snaps.

"We'll go to my place then," Oliver mutters.

"And to think the authorities wouldn't be checking out? Think again, Oliver," Farhan snaps.

"Wait, how about Site C?" I blurt out, both of them gazing back at me as though to ask if I've lost it already.

"That's a couple of cities away. You won't make it there alive," Farhan says and turns back to face Oliver; this time, she's glaring. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about the vow you've sworn upon?" Farhan warns in knitted teeth as she takes a step forward, causing Oliver to step back, daring him as she stabs her finger.

Oliver rights himself and spares me a split-second glance before turning his gaze back to Farhan; he's even more serious now.

"That time will come. Give her some more time," Oliver says in a low threatening growl, and I'm clueless as to whom is he pertaining to with "her."

Farhan shoves Oliver as she makes her way to room twenty–nine's door, though Oliver is able to hold her still.

"You're not going in there," Oliver says; it's calm but tacitly declares warning.

"You did not pay me to become your follower, Oliver. I do what I want, and I will help search for the data if I want," Farhan simply says as she wedges the door open and storms in, leaving Oliver and me on the corridor.

Oliver gazes at me wearily, his tousled brown locks covering a fraction of his right eye. He takes a deep breath in and sags as he exhales before saying, "Come with me." And he leads me further in the corridor.

Our footsteps ring a rapid staccato, ricocheting off the walls like telltale gunshots. I could hardly keep up with his strides, and I know it's my turn to bombard him with questions.

A lot of questions.

"What's with Farhan? And what's this thing you've sworn upon? Oliver, you're not telling me something," I say as I take pace to keep up with him.

"Nothing that's really a big deal," he says as he regards me impassively. "It's all about this training thing, wherein I'll have to train you to become like a criminal," Oliver adds, his eyes remain plastered ahead.

My blood's starting to boil with his ambiguity.

"Okay, so you wan't me to become a criminal?" I ask, my voice raising for a fraction, and a sarcastic chuckle escapes my lips as I recount what I just did earlier ago out of thirst.

"Not to become as bad as they are, but to become more physically fit as they are," Oliver says as he finally turns his head to look down at me. "Your family name's in the Kill Queue now, and there'll be a lot of running an' chasing. Believe me when I say ya'll need that trainin' once we get out of this dang place," Oliver adds, his western accent showing up.

Suddenly, before I could stop it, I feel the sudden twinge of insecurity to Oakley. Oakley's more physically fit than I am. Surely she'd have better chances of surviving out there compared to me with my belly. Well, at least that means there's a chance we'll find her out there.

"So, you're going to train me?" I ask.

I don't know if this would be for my benefit. I'm not highly accustomed to running and chasing, moreover if it would involve our twisted government. I nearly even died yesterday if it isn't for Oliver. Yet a deeper part of me tells me I should train.

Oliver suddenly turns reluctant to answer. He averts his gaze and presses his lips, and I didn't miss it when his fingers curl to fist. "Not now, we'll have to figure out what happened to your sister's data first, then we have to hide it," Oliver says as he leads me on a white staircase, winding up to higher floors.

"Does it mean someone turned her in?"

"Not sure, but that can be possible. Someone else might've also hidden her data for her, or maybe Nano Depth has already done it without our notice. Y'see, they are also updated with the Kill Queue, and they automatically keep family information without the relative's consent," Oliver blabbers as we take the stairs. "You know any other of your relatives?" he asks.

"No," I mutter.

Since after my parent's death, Oakley and I live to stand on our own. No parents, no relatives. Even in my parent's time, according to Oakley, there are hardly any visitors coming from our relatives, since my dad have been known for being the black sheep in his family. It doesn't surprise me though, if he really did care before, we wouldn't have to go through a lot by our own.

Oakley wouldn't have to leave me.

We wouldn't have lost touch of each other like what's happening now.

"Maybe we'll get to know some of your relatives once Nano Depth retrieves their information," Oliver says.

"Maybe, but chances are we don't know each other," I say, using the loud thuds of our feet against the marble as a good distraction.

Anyway, there are hardly any Holland here in Pelnora. Our family roots back somewhere else.

"Before I forget, I think I should give you this," Oliver says as he hands me a long rectangular sticker which softly glows blue; it weights heavier than it looks, and it automatically latches on my right arm's wrist.

Oliver holds up his left hand to reveal the same blue sticker on his wrist, and as he speaks up to it, his voice crackles on my glowing sticker. It's like a mini walkie-talkie, only it's far more advanced and efficient.

"This is definitely way better than the metal box." I giggle as I beam up to him.

At least now, I wouldn't have to worry about losing the only device that I can use to communicate, unlike Oliver's twisted metal box that has nearly delivered me to my death last night when its buzzes has lead the overlookers to my direction in the dark.

"Fair enough," Oliver mutters as a small grin cracks on his lips.

There's nothing much on the third floor, as we pass by the same empty corridor that softly glows in bluish-white. Faint electric hums crawl upon the wires on the ceiling, and I feel like walking in a futuristic science laboratory.

Oliver nudges my sleeve, and we skid to stop as we stand before a chrome door.

"What's this?" I ask as I look up to him.

"Dr. Algo Paolo's office. He's, well, the head director of Nano Depth. If there's anyone who can keep track of all the hacked data, it would be him," Oliver says as he saunters to a small monitor beside the door; he jabs a code on the keypad, then a green bulb glows at the top of the monitor.

With a loud hiss, the chrome door slides open, and a blast of cool air welcomes us. The sharp white hue that coats almost everything  from the walls to the sets of table forces me to squint. We're currently standing in his small office, but further ahead is a glass door, which leads to the laboratory.

Seated and slumped upon the only black table in the room, is none other than Dr. Algo Paolo clad in a white lab coat. Red wrappers, crumpled papers, and inhalers litter his work place. His table adjoins another, where computers and ledgers are perched.

"You think we should wake him up?" I whisper.

"I don't think he's fully asleep yet," Oliver says as he walks to the table and picks up an inhaler. He shakes it before his ear then looks up to it again. "The Sleep Fluid's not even half empty yet. We should be able to wake him up," he adds.

"What, does he have some sort of sleep issues?"

"Insomnia," Oliver corrects. "Site A doesn't get a spec of sunlight. People here needs to sleep too, but anyway they still follow the clock's readings, though most of them find trouble sleeping. Especially people like Dr. Algo who suffers in insomnia," Oliver says.

I'm quite surprised that he knows the place well and some of its people. For three years that I've been living with Oliver, I didn't really know he goes to places like this when I'm not around.

"But I'll admit that I'm quite impressed with their techs in here," I chime as I hold up my wrist where the sticker is placed, beaming at him at the same time.

"Yeah, actually, some of my security measures back in your house came from down here," Oliver mutters sheepishly as he scratch the back of his head.

"Oh, yes, there're so many things you've kept hidden, Oliver. Why didn't you tell me anyway?"  I ask the question aching to slip off my lips since yesterday.

"Dunno, I think it might scare you off. You know, all the weird stuffs rigged up all over your house," he says. "We'll talk about that some time," he adds as he gently shakes the sleeping doctor. "Dr. Algo?" Oliver starts. Dr. Algo inches a bit, and his fingers slightly fidget, then a faint groan reaches my ears. "Dr. Algo, it's Hawkins," Oliver adds, and the doctor slowly sits upright.

The doctor looks up and squints at Oliver; he pats his coat and rubs his eyes before he finally puts on his glasses. By the looks of him, Dr. Algo seems exhausted. He swipes the litters on his work desk with his hand and lets it fall by the small trash bin beside his table, leaving a single inhaler behind, and he tucks it on his coat pocket. He then spares Oliver another glance before huskily saying, "Very well, Hawkins, what brings you to my office?"

Dr. Algo pats his aging silver hair; lines crease his forehead as he waits for Oliver's response.

"Doctor, I was wondering if we could ran a quick search in Nano Depth's database?" Oliver asks politely.

Dr. Algo's gaze snaps at me then back to Oliver. "And who could this young lass be?" he asks.

"She's a friend of mine, sir. Name's Kiera Holland, new to The Shearing," Oliver primly says. "Her sister's data is missing while we were trying to hack it, and I was wondering if maybe the other workers or the automatic system have already done it. May I ask if we could, perhaps, check it?" Oliver politely adds, gesturing his hand as he explains.

Dr. Algo brushes his beard as he thinks of something, then gazes back to Oliver.

"Very well, I guess I can do something of help," Dr. Algo says as he stands up, and it's only when I realize that his left hand is made of metal.

My eyes stray at his movement.

"Ah, curious eh?" I flinch as I realize Dr. Algo's pertaining to me.

"Uh—no sir. I—I," I stammer, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment.

"Ah, it's alright, everyone gets curious at the sight of my arm, and here's the thing," says Dr. Algo as he yanks his left slacks, revealing his left foot, which is also artificial. "Got half of my body artificial," Dr. Algo proudly says; a chuckle bubbles out of him as he enjoys my baffled expression.

I didn't know having half of your body replaced by artificial objects is possible, yet here stands in front of me is one.

"Dr. Algo here is actually my idol when it comes to hacking and innovation, Kiera," Oliver says with an indulgent smile. "He's been through a lot, and he's built most of the advance tech here in Nano Depth, which is first passed on to Test Drive for manufacturing."

"Ah, patter patter," Dr. Algo mutters as he edges out from his seat.

"And he tends to repeat the words 'patter' for like every other minute," Oliver adds as he supports the doctor.

I beam at him. Albeit it seems a bit odd, I think Dr. Algo's a nice person.

"Ah, I was a young lad back then when my father's steam engine was being built," Dr. Algo says as he saunters to a peculiar machine, dotted with glowing buttons and has a monitor on its center. It towers as tall as a wardrobe parallel to his work desk. Another table is rigged beside it where laptops are perched; its tangled wires connect to the odd machine. "I hated his engine, but when it exploded and got me in a critical condition, its parts were restored and used to replace half of my body's outer framework," Dr. Algo adds grumpily, as he begin jabbing buttons on the machine's pad.

"And, technically, the other parts were used to finish this machine that Nano Depth is using," Oliver finishes it for him, a giddy smile flickers on his lips, eyes straying at the doctor.

I'd say he likes Dr. Algo.

"Ah, then I grew to love his engine for saving my life. The irony of it. Patter patter," Dr. Algo says huskily. "C'mon here, Hawkins," Dr. Algo gruffly commands as he starts for the laptops and gestures Oliver to come with him.

The stupid grin remains on my lips. I stare at the two as they fiddle with the odd machine. If I hadn't known any better, I'd say Dr. Algo seems like Oliver's grandfather teaching him the ropes to innovation. Rarely do I encounter people like Dr. Algo and Farhan, people I'd like to know more, including Oliver. My curiosity leads me to Dr. Algo's work table. Polaroid snaps of various mechanisms that remind me of hover crafts and flying cars are wedged on a glass film that blankets his desk. Along with it are labels and computations scrawled in parchments.

Among these, the biggest paper with the stamp that reads, "Urgent," catches my attention. Its content reads, "Immunity test: Fail. Successful test results: Vigor, Morale. Proposed prototype: Morale Serum." It doesn't make sense to me, but it is what's written on the largest paper.

A loud repetitive beep echoes in the office, causing me to flinch and turn at the direction of the two. The laptop in front of Dr. Algo glows red and the words "results unknown" flashes on the screen in white uppercase letters.

"This can't be happening," Oliver mutters; the colors on his face ebbs away in roiling fear. "How can her data disappear in an instant?" he adds, and I need not to ask if whether or not he's pertaining to Oakley.

"What's happening?" I pipe; concern raises up my voice.

"We can't find Oakley's data. If someone else did it for her, then it's not Nano Depth. I can only think of the government," Oliver says.

Oliver's last word screams back in my mind, and I never know fear as how I know it now. If the government's really the culprit, then it's either Oakley has been turned in, or worse—I couldn't finish the thought.

"Patter patter, I think I'll have to check the other departments," Dr. Algo says as he strides for the chrome doors. "Hawkins, shutdown the data processing with your ID," Dr. Algo commands, and Oliver complies quickly as he fumbles on his hoodie and his jean pockets.

"Wait, I can't find it!" Oliver says as he hastily run through his pockets once more.

"What?" Dr. Algo snaps in disbelief.

"My identification card. I lost the dang card!" Oliver hollers in irritation.

"Alright, best to leave it there then." Dr. Algo makes his way through the opening chrome doors.

Oliver comes to me in three long strides and holds me still as he clamps upon my shoulders.

"I'll come back, Kiera. Don't you ever leave this office, okay?" he says, eyes darting to mine.

"Wait, what's wrong? Where are you going?" I call out after them, but I fail to get an asnswer as the two strides out of the room in a heart beat, leaving me behind the closing chrome doors.

The repetitive beeps doesn't seem to cease. The laptop's screen displays the same flashing letters, and the machine groans an electric buzz; its button pads glowing, tempting me to creep closer. 

Byrne, don't touch anything, I thought. Everything in the laboratory seems futuristic and eye catching, and I find it hard to just stand still when I know something's going wrong, and it concerns my sister.

The slight thuds from the door turns my attention, then as it wedges open, Farhan storms in. Her brows are creased together, and her chest rises and falls frantically as she pants. A black flash drive of some sort is clamped upon her fist. When her gaze lands on me, she sighs.

"You have to come with me," Farhan says as she strides and pulls me with her, leading me out of Dr. Algo's office.

"Farhan, wait! Oliver told me not to leave," I say, pulling her back to stop her.

But she's stronger than I am.

Farhan snaps her gaze to me exasperatedly, locks of her dark hair flinging back. With her creaseless eyes amplified by the bright lights, she almost seems so intimidating with her glare alone.

"Oliver knows what we're doing," she states in knitted teeth, and even if I kinda doubt her words, she pulls me nonetheless until we're completely out of the office.

"Farhan, where are we going?" I say, my voice raising for a fraction.

I'm tired of being clueless with their plans.

"You plan to find your sister? Well, guess what? I got a better idea," she says as she waves her flash drive, and, just like that, I find my feet scampering to follow her.

I'd do anything to find Oakley. Farhan leads me to the stairs, and we race down to the ground floor. I don't know what's keeping her up, but if Farhan knows another way to track my sister, then I'd surely follow her. Our footsteps ring like gunshots against the marble floor. Farhan leads me to the corridor we've been to earlier, nearly colliding with some confused workers along the way. We burst from the lobby and quickly proceed to the exit.

Thick humid air hangs back heavily as we make our way through the crowded paths, all the noises and moist heat hugs us, as we pass by stalls and houses crammed with bickering criminals and innocents.

"We're going back to the apartment?" I holler amidst the noises of people.

"Yes," Farhan simply says.

A few more turns and trips pass, and the apartment comes into view again. The sticker on my wrist starts to flash in bright blue as we get into the building's lobby. Farhan didn't fail to notice it; her lips quirk down into a frown. "Don't answer it!" Farhan commands.

As we get in, the receptionist didn't even heed our presence as we bolt for the winding staircase. As we get into my room, Farhan locks the door and turns to face me. I couldn't figure out if she's excited or panicked, but we both take a moment to catch our breaths.

"Y—you better explain yourself, Farhan," I say as I catch my breath, wiping off the trickling sweats from my forehead.

"You're an approved employee of Cogtech!" she exclaims as she points her finger at me.

"What? What's with Cogtech? And how on earth did you know that?" I say in disbelief, then realization hits me.

"I did a quick research on you," Farhan says as she squares her shoulder and wipes off sweats from her temple and pale cheeks. "Kiera, your sister's data is gone, and if Nano Depth couldn't find it, then chances are she's been turned in," Farhan adds.

"That's not true," I protest.

"It is! And if the authorities catch her, then there's only one place for her to go, and that is in Cogtech. Kiera, you know they are tasked to organize the executions, and if you're approved to work there, then you can still save your sister!" Farhan exclaims. "And if I'm not the only Macklemore alive, then that's also where I can find the answer. We can both get what we want!" Farhan adds almost comically.

She makes sense. Even if I'd rather not look into her perspective, Farhan knows the best way to find Oakley and the remaining Macklemore, but I still couldn't take full grasp of her plan.

"So what do you want me to do?" I say. "Oliver knows this, right?"

Farhan nods, then the sticker from my wrist automatically glows, and Oliver's thundering voice crackles from it. "Kiera, where on dang earth are you?!" Oliver booms, and my glare darts back to Farhan.

"So, he knows what we're doing?" I say as I raise her an eyebrow.

Farhan seems unaffected; she squares her shoulder and grasps my arm. Her eyes, burning with determination, darts to mine.

"Get ready, Kiera. Oliver will surely turn furious tonight. We're going to Carson City," Farhan says.

Another chapter done! Sorry for the delay though.

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