“That name sounds familiar.”
“If you want to work LLE, it should,” Mike said. “She was one of the key designers who worked on the Laws. A bioethicist. She died in an accident a few years later.”
“Sad. All right, what’s the catch? I’m still feeling the suspicion.”
Mike raised his eyebrows and managed to look hurt.
“I’m a detective. Sensitivity to being jerked around is essential to the work,” Livvy added.
“He doesn’t take partners anymore. Hasn’t for 30 years.”
“Why not? One of those long-lifers who’s gone asocial?”
“Not that I ever noticed. Pleasant enough when I was a uniform on clean-up crew and the few times I actually consulted with him on homicide cases after I made the grade. Always seemed like a nice guy. Dedicated. Driven, even, but you’d expect that, or he wouldn’t have stayed in LLE over 50 years,” Mike said. He was still enjoying the conversation way too much, which meant that she was definitely being played, but she hadn’t heard the hook yet.
“Michael, me darlin’, if you don’t tell me now why you want me to
“The consensus was that he didn’t take partners anymore because they couldn’t keep up with him.”
So of course, here she was, sitting on a bench outside the Chief’s office, in a squad room that had gone preternaturally quiet and expectant, at 8:30 AM on a Monday morning. She’d used her family’s influence to get here, too, which she’d never done before and which she’d loathed somewhat more than she had undergoing her emergency appendectomy. But if she hadn’t tapped the family power pipeline, she wouldn’t have gotten close.
There was an unnatural silence in LLE when Chris arrived. That was never good. He looked first towards the Chief’s office and thought he found the source decorating the bench outside the door. She had to be one of the most stunningly beautiful women he’d ever seen, thanks to shoulder-length auburn hair and eyes of a startling blue-green in a face with the kind of flawless skin that would do for the embodiment of a Renaissance portrait. The effect was lovely and somewhat ethereal, a strange combination if she was a professional. At an absolute minimum, the eye color and the skin tones had to be enhancements. None of that was illegal, but given the effort and expense she’d put into the visual effect, Chris suspected she hadn’t been able to resist crossing the line on an enticing chem- or neuro-enhancement. Certainly she had generated some serious silence in the normally rowdy squad.
It wasn’t usual for people who had had black market work done to make deals with LLE by giving information on whoever had done the work for them, which was probably why she was here. High class, based on her looks and her relatively stylish but conservative clothing, but still a snitch and a pro. The visual work was very good, subtle. The illegal stuff probably was too. From across the room he couldn’t detect a perfume, but the range wouldn’t matter. Some of the new skin-level stimulants the illegal labs were putting out for high-class professional women were remarkably potent yet completely undetectable without chemsensors. As long as the developer didn’t call them a pheromone (this term alone was enough to put them in felony range), the penalties weren’t enough to discourage them for long. Chris looked around for a legal stick or for a clue as to who might have brought her in, but other than the expectant silence and some surreptitious looks from Williams and Agnew, whose desks were closest, no one was paying attention to her. Except, at the moment, Louie. Louie had made a beeline for the woman and was standing there wagging his tail as she stroked his ears. Either he was more susceptible, or he had detected something hinky. Or he was totally nondiscriminating.
“Hey, McGregor, excited about your new partner?” It was Williams. He jerked his head in the direction of Louie’s rump and grinned sardonically, sharing the joke with Agnew.
“His name is Louie. I take comfort from the fact that he’s probably a hell of a lot smarter than you two,” Chris said.
Both Williams and Agnew, the rookie, reacted to this with hilarity.
“McGregor, in here. Now. And bring the dog.”
“Louie,” Chris said as he crossed back in front of the woman. He snapped his fingers for emphasis and Louie fell into position at his left side.
“Close the door,” the Chief said. “Sit.”
He paused, considering Chris and Louie for a few seconds. The Chief was old school, meaning that although he went in for his regular resets, he believed that the appearance of age increased authority. He was several decades chrono younger than Chris, but looked a little older and even had some gray hair, which was almost unheard of among people plugged into Longevity. As far as Chris knew, it was genetic and premature, rather than an atypical enhancement.
“I got your report on Andrews this morning. This is the dog? Never mind, dumb question. Like you thought, our Forensics analysts figured out from the good doctor’s notes that he was working on research that might make Longevity more economical. His lawyer can use it to get him a better deal, but he’ll still have to face the minimum.”
The Chief studied Louie, who sat at Chris’ side and stared back at him.
“By the way, he went even further with the dog than he did with himself. I guess he didn’t worry about the memory loss, with the dog. They figure about a 50% enhancement, if it were done in a human. That seem right to you?”
“Who can tell?” Chris said, shrugging. “So far, he just seems like a very bright, normal dog. At 50% boost he’s well within the curve if he was a typical mutt to begin with. A significant boost if he was bright already.”
“Of course, since it’s only a dog, I don’t expect we need to worry about arranging a compulsory reversal,” the Chief said, losing interest.
“If there’s a problem, I’ll get an exemption,” Chris said.
There was a longer pause. “You’ve got something in mind?”
“I figure he’ll be an asset in the field,” Chris said.
The Chief picked up a stylus and started balancing it between his two index fingers and studying it. “We’ve worked together what, 40 years?’ he asked finally.
Something wasn’t adding up here, Chris thought, a little puzzled. While he knew there hadn’t been any canine units in LLE before, the Chief was seldom interested in rules or conformity. Chris hadn’t expected any discussion because Louie shouldn’t be this big of an issue. This first question was rhetorical and an obvious preamble to something more, so he didn’t bother to respond.
“You were already here when I came on board. I’ve respected that. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing but I think you could safely say that for the most part I’ve let you tack on your own.” The analogy was a bad sign. The Chief was an avid sailor, and it meant he was groping for a way to break some bad news.
“I promised Andrews I’d see to him, and he can’t sit around my apartment all day. He’ll go barking mad,” Chris said, still puzzled. “He’s pretty much of a natural. I think he already picked up on some chem- or neuro- issue with that pro sitting out there waiting for processing.”
“I’m not talking about the dog,” the Chief said, shifting forward in his chair. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything more, the young woman Chris had just piqued chose that moment to walk through the door.
“Sorry Chief, but I have excellent hearing. And no, it’s not enhanced. That would be illegal. You can have it tested if you wish.” This last was directed at Chris.
“Also, I was sitting right outside your door.” Back to the Chief. “You can’t blame me for the city’s notion of soundproofing. I thought I should come in and introduce myself before Detective McGregor digs himself into a deeper hole.
“And to let you know that Louie is perfect for the team, as far as I’m concerned.” To Chris.
And back to the Chief, “Since you seemed to be worried about it.”
Chris stared at her extended hand, then shook it briefly. He shifted his gaze back up to the remarkable
