The Irregulars

One

“I will finish this,” George snapped to his servant, who was busy pouring

steaming water into his bathtub.

The servant inclined his head and left, the door clicking behind him. George submerged himself, paying no mind to the scalding water.

Finally, he heard only silence. Here, no one schemed or plotted; no memories haunted him. He had himself and his body all working together to hang on to this temporary stillness that couldn’t last. Soon he’d have to surface and draw breath.

A muffled knock and the silence broke.

He emerged, raven waves plastered to his face, water falling into his eyes,

blinding him. He pushed his hair back. “Do not enter. I will come.” He said loudly. The person behind the door ceased knocking.

He stepped out, grabbing the towel the servant left draped over a wooden

stand.

He threw on his white undershirt from the floor, buttoning it and

straightening the sleeves before calling, “You may enter,” to his guest.

John entered, black leather bag in hand. He began setting up immediately.

George pulled on his pants and sat on the sofa, rolling up his sleeve for the

doctor.

John plunged the syringe into a tiny glass bottle and it sucked up the

medicine within. George felt the blood leave his face as the doctor brought the needle down.

“Best look away, sir,” the doctor said.

George did and felt a pinch as the needle went in, and then it was over.

“Don’t throw that out in here,” George told him.

“Of course, sir,” he said.

“I hate that damn thing. Can’t you ever get pills?” George said.

“I’m afraid not sir; they’re too hard to come by. I had to travel to Iowa for this lot,” He said.

“A perfect world indeed,” George said, scowling.

“Did you do Davina already?” George asked. He shrugged into his doublet

and tied his belt around his waist.

“I finished with her this morning,” he said.

“Send her to me if you see her on your way out,” George said.

“Very good, sir,” he said, picking up the used needle and throwing it into

his bag.

An hour later, another knock and the door opened without waiting for a

response.

“I’m the doge; you can’t just walk in like you own the place,” he snapped as

Davina threw herself onto the sofa next to the fire.

“Don’t those things creep you out?” She asked, nodding to the servant who

came to stoke the fire.

Regulars often wore glazed expressions, an unintended side-effect of the

algorithm created just before the capital burned. It controlled free will, and

those who were under its control lost most of their humanity with it.

Government officials were exempt.

“Send him out,” Davina said, arranging her black cloak around her like a blanket.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there,” he said. George nodded to the servant, and he left without a word closing the door soundlessly behind him.

“Have you heard yet? About the girl.” She said.

“Of course I’ve heard. She’s my prisoner. Doge, remember?” He said,

pointing to himself.

Davina laughed. “I’m sorry, you a doge. Sometimes I forget how utterly

ridiculous Chicago has become. Although, it was always so. Remember our

last mayor? The lizard lady.” Davina said, bugging out her eyes.

George smiled, “Her campaigners were smart; they didn’t put her face on

any posters.”

“Ah, the olden days. Now it’s us and our lagoon. How far we’ve come, you

and I.” Davina said.

“My lagoon.” He said, correcting her.

Davina rolled her eyes.

“Back to the girl. I want you to release her.”

“ We finally captured a member of the Irregular Resistance alive, and you

want me to free her?”

“We’re Irregulars, in case you forgot about that pesky brand on your

shoulder. I can show you mine if you need a reminder. We need clever women like her who can survive here.”

“Let me guess. You want her to be a Juno.”

“We need more. This city is a big place. If we don’t cultivate the right types

of people, the resistance will only grow. The south is particularly rife with the undocumented and dissenters.”

“The south has always been,” George said.

“Yes, and we helped create a better world, where peace is possible. The unchipped must be neutralized. You know that. This girl knows these people. She could be our greatest asset yet.” Davina said.

“Or our death,” George said.

“I can train her; I’ll make her understand our purpose, as I have with the

others.”

George stared at her for a long moment. Her side-eye broke the tension.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Those young Irregulars aren’t like

the other Junos you’ve trained.”

“I know,” she said. “I’ll tell the guards to release her.” She said, sliding off the sofa and heading for the door.

“I will see you later.” She said.

Two

“ Get up,” Davina said.

The girl was obstinate. The Walkers released her three hours ago and still

laid on a dirty straw bed in the North Tower.

Davina stood over her in her black Juno cloak with the hood up, shading

her eyes, making her seem a more imposing figure than reality allowed.

“I ordered your release for a purpose, one which I will show you if you stop

being a child and come with me.”

The child, fifteen at most, finally sat up. “ I will never help you.” She said,

probably in the most grown-up voice she could muster.

“Then help yourself. Your choices are slim at the moment.” Davina said.

The girl rose reluctantly.

“Where are we going?” She said.

“You’ll see. You might as well put this on,” Davina said, handing her the Juno’s cloak she arrived in.

The girl took it. “There’s blood on it,” she said, holding it away from her

body.

“And whose fault is that? Killing Junos will do nothing to help your situation, you know. Now put it on; we’re leaving.” The girl slipped it over her shoulders, the black velvet sweeping the floor. She put the hood up, identical to Davina.

The carriage waited for them at the bottom of the steps between life-size twin lions of rusted bronze. Automated horses stood unnaturally still, waiting for the order to move on.

Davina climbed into the carriage and typed the address into the keypad above her head. Less gracefully, the girl got in and sat beside her. The carriage lurched forward, down the pothole-ridden avenue.

“What is your name?” Davina said.

“Eury,” she said.

“And you control your symptoms by?” Davina said.

“Opium, every other day,” Eury said.

“As I thought,” Davina said

Davina didn’t say anything else until the horses slowed. Eury scrambled after her into a four-story townhouse on the corner of Clark Street and Sheridan.

The lobby was clean, with new tile flooring and a friendly but absentminded receptionist behind a marble desk.

“Fourth floor, apartment 4f,” she said smiling.

The stairs squeaked loudly as they ascended. The lobby’s cleanliness was

deceptive; the rest of the building was filthy; dirt and grim older than Eury

stained the walls.

“Some residences are better than others,” Davina said, noticing Eury’s

crinkled nose. Davina was used to the musty mold smell.

“I’m used to living in delapidated places, but this is different. It feels intentional. Why else make the lobby look nice?”

Davina smiled. “You are as observant as I thought.” She said.

“Here we are,” Davina said, coming to the right door. She knocked. Muffled footsteps approached from within.

“Please, come in,” said an older woman, smiling the same way as the receptionist downstairs.

A woman lay in a bed near the door. Eury hung back as Davina moved to

the bedside and took a bundle of blankets from a cradle beside the mother.

She held it carefully, taking it to a round table, and unwrapping the

blankets. It was a boy, seemingly perfect in every way. Davina’s eyes

narrowed, turning the child over, looking at its face for a long time, before

wrapping up the child again.

“Perfectly healthy,” she said. The mother let out a relieved sigh, smiling for

the first time since they arrived.

“I will return in one year to ensure everything is as it should be, but for

now, enjoy your gift.” “We must be going,” Davina said.

The air outside was cool. Davina never minded the strong winds coming off

the lake, winter’s first greeting. Eury took a deep breath beside her.

“See? Junos are a necessary part of our ecosystem. We don’t release children unless it’s better for them. That boy in there will live a full life, never having to experience illness as we have.” Davina said.

“All children deserve life,” Eury said.

“Even unwanted babies that will burden their families and live but a halflife compared to those around them?” “It may sound cold to you, but sometimes death is a necessary part of life.”

“You can help us create a better world for all,” Davina said. “And you won’t have to depend on opium for relief once you’re a Juno. You will see. One day, you could be me.”

Eury’s expression was unreadable for a moment.

“You have the drugs of the old world,” Eury said softly.

“And yet you let Irregulars suffer.” She said.

“It is necessary in this unstable world to have the upper hand. We must work with what we have and endure the best we can. One day I will die, and I intend to leave behind me a world better than the one I lived in and the right people to continue my work.”

“Yes, one day, you will die,” Eury said, her brown eyes shining for a moment.

“ As will you. Now get in the carriage; we have the future to attend to,” Davina said.

Three

Another day spent hearing the peers fight like beasts for policy and power.

Politicking and conniving, same as in the old world. Sometimes George

wondered what was the point of it all?

A blazing fire in the grate greeted him when he returned to his room.

Past midnight, she still wasn’t there.

George went to his bedside table, digging around odds and ends, looking for it.

The dagger was wrapped in yellow parchment. Its handle was engraved with their initials, and a grey wolf and wildcat met in the middle. A heartshaped locket fell from the parchment along with it. Inside, the girl he used to know, her sun-kissed brown curls tickling her neck, her beauty undiminished with time. An innocent, mischievous smile playing across her face, one he hadn’t seen these fifteen years since.

Finally, a knock, and there she was.

He quickly stuffed the locket into his pocket and the dagger into his belt.

She wore a sheer nightdress, her petite features visible beneath the seacolored cloth like a nymph just emerged from some far-off river.

“I brought you something.” She said, uncovering a platter and laying it on the bed next to him. She crawled in, propping her head up on one hand. The little cakes were shaped like miniature chess pieces.

“Your creation, I presume? He said.

She rolled her eyes. “Eury helped,” she said.

“White or black?” She said.

“Black, of course.” He said.

He raised it to his lips, then paused.

“You first.”

She took up a white queen and tapped his king.

“Cheers.” She said and took a bite.

I remember why I haven’t taken your head yet.” He said, tasting it.

Davina was silent.

George looked at her. Her throat bulged from her neck, her face red, eyes rolled back in her head.

“Davina,” he said softly.

“Eury,” she gasped, and then she went stiff and still.

George looked at her a moment.

He took out the locket, looked at the girl, and again at the woman beside him.

“For you,” he said to the girl. And the doge plunged the dagger into his heart.

And thus, Eury’s child was avenged.

* * *