Longevity

turquoise eyes, which showed the faintest of humor lines at the corners.

“I’m overwhelmed with relief,” the Chief said dryly to the newcomer, then shifted his attention back to Chris. “McGregor, meet Olivia Hutchins, your new partner.”

Chris had been mildly puzzled before. Now he turned his head sharply to give the Chief a full stare.

“I prefer Livvy.”

“Detective Hutchins transferred here from San Francisco specifically to work LLE with you as her partner. Something about ‘learning from the best.’ Clearly a mistake, but I’ve decided to let her find that out on her own,” the Chief said, looking at Livvy with no evident amusement.

“I’m not a training officer,” Chris said. “I’ve never been a training officer. Even when I was taking partners, you never gave me a rookie before.”

“There you go, still wielding that shovel,” Livvy said sotto voce.

“Detective Hutchins has 30 years experience, the last 10 in Homicide, and 20 before that in Tactical.”

“I haven’t had any partner in 30 years.”

“You’re letting Louie tag along with far less experience and, I can say with all modesty, far less to offer,” Livvy interjected.

Chris found himself gazing at the flawless face. Again.

“Think of it as a type of armor,” Livvy said. “I’m…”

The Chief interrupted. “Its all moot, McGregor. This came straight from the Commissioner. None of us has a choice. Since Detective Hutchins has no objections, which we are delighted to hear, you can keep the dog, but you’re taking her as well. It’s over my head and way above your paygrade.”

“I’ve… “ Chris started to say after regaining some equanimity, then was interrupted as well.

“I’ve got a Priority One call.” He touched his ear and said “Tactical,” in the direction of his collar transmitter, then his eyes unfocused.

“I’ve got to go out on this one,” he said after a few moments. He squinted at Livvy and looked back to the Chief.

“Go,” the Chief said, gesturing him out with the back of his hand.

Chris turned and headed towards the door as his new partner hustled to her feet. She seemed at a loss as to how to dismiss herself semi-properly.

At this point, the Chief said irritably, “What? Still here hotshot?”

“I’m not…” Chris heard her begin.

“Go. He won’t wait for you.”

Chris flexed his fingers. The hand that had gripped his was fine and smooth, but it demonstrated an unquestionably strong grip and the nails were clipped short and devoid of decoration. A hand that could be comfortable around the grip of a Stinger. A new partner, and an LLE rookie at that. At a minimum, an inconvenience, possibly a hazard, but contrary to a vast amount of experience, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he was totally convinced it would be.

Chp. 3 For love is immortality. Emily Dickinson (Monday)

Livvy caught up with her new partner as he waited for the swift-el down to the LLE underground motor pool. The dog, Louie, looked up at her and thumped his tail but remained sitting calmly at Chris’ left side.

“What…?” she started to ask. Chris held up a temporizing hand and she realized he was still getting audio input of some information he must have called up while she was catching up with him. She made a mental note to get a synchronous feed option coded into her aural comu as soon as she got back to the LLE office and, for now, waited impatiently for Chris to finish getting direct read.

“Sorry,” he said, surprising her. “I needed an archival record.”

There was a car waiting when they got to the motor pool. Livvy figured he’d ordered it out before he even put in the request to Archives. Somehow, even though she had been walking right next to him and she slid into the passenger seat at the same time he slipped behind the wheel, she still felt as though she was struggling to catch up.

“938 Ark Rd., Marlboro. Sirens on, strobe on,” Chris said and the car complied. Within one and a half minutes they were on the beltway, with the regular glassene traffic shifting out of the path of their official car with satisfying automaticity.

“And? Wait, first, what were you going to say back there? In the Chief’s office. Before you got the Priority Call.”

Chris gazed at her blankly for a moment, then said, “That I’ve no objection to trying it for a week, then we can both decide if we want to continue.”

“Oh. All right. Fair enough. I thought you were… well, I know this was sprung on you, and I thought you might kick up more dust.”

Chris glanced at her again and smiled slightly. “I think you will find, Hutchins, that the reason I no longer have partners is more for their benefit than for mine. Feel free to change your mind before the week is up, if you want.”

“I’m neither cowed nor fickle,” Livvy said. “Now, where are we going so fast, and why?”

“According to the IA there’s a woman in Marlboro who shot her husband and is now holding her husband’s lover hostage. The wife has asked for me and I wanted to see if we had any history that might suggest why.”

He seemed lost in thought, and whatever he was remembering was making him look even flintier than usual.

“What?” she finally asked.

He shifted his gaze back to her. “What do you know about the Pheromone Fiasco?”

“You mean from the 50’s? Before my time. If I remember my history, there were a few chem-enhancements licensed, and many more done on the black market, that claimed to be either natural or engineered pheromones that were linked to sweat glands. The real problems surfaced when there were some court cases, some murders even, where lost impulse control was blamed on some nebulous “compulsion.” I think some of the defense attorneys succeeded, and there was a public outcry. The whole matter was big deal at the time.

“Seriously,” Livvy asked with mild irony, “are we insects? Anyway, I don’t remember whether it was ever proven pheromones could really influence human behavior but in the end it was decided that as a class they didn’t meet the Herrnstein Criterion: no enhancements granting unfair advantage. So now the whole concept of pheromone enhancement is illegal. If an enhancement can be classified as a pheromone, it’s a felony. Can’t even evade it by some kind of soft claim that it’s therapy. Seems like a lot of risk just to be a little more seductive. Potentially seductive.”

Chris sat with his arms folded across his chest and his head tilted and turned towards her, his eyes hooded. He didn’t say anything, and plainly wasn’t going to.

“Look, I can guess what you’re thinking at me,” Livvy said when he had waited her out. “Give me some credit. I wouldn’t let a neuro- or chem-enhancement, especially an illegal one, near my personal molecules.

“As for appearances… good looks do confer an advantage, but there’ve always been naturally beautiful people, which is one reason enhancements for looks have been exempt from the Right of Equal Opportunity Law. Beauty is way too subjective to even begin to contemplate quantifying, much less accounting for individual preferences. The advantages conferred are usually also available by using old-fashioned techniques to achieve similar changes in appearance. I can afford the enhancements. It helps me in my work. And actually, other than some coloration, most of it is the real me,” she couldn’t help adding.

Chris made a sound that wasn’t quite a snort of derision. “And let’s not forget that being able to look at beauty by definition gives the rest of us pleasure. No one wants to legislate against that,” he said.

Livvy relaxed, grinning. “There is that, yes. Wait, you’ll see. Like I said, think of it as a kind of armor.”

“All right. I get it. I can’t imagine a man on the planet who won’t be giving you some edge at least initially, even if unintentionally. But surely the women, most of them, hate you a little?”

“You’d be surprised. I take my looks for granted and I treat the women like rational beings. Women have been