Vigilantes Read Free Page B

those clones too.
    But it was pretty normal for a defense attorney to hate his clients. That was the first thing he had learned when he worked off his student loans in the most notorious part of the court system, which was nicknamed the Impossibles. Most potential defense attorneys first worked in the public defender’s office, where every case was a loser, everyone was guilty of something, and every lawyer was so overworked they couldn’t remember their clients’ names from one hour to the next.
    But he didn’t do the job for the clients. Nor, he learned in the last year, did he do it for the money. (Although he had to admit that the money was nice.)
    He did it because he actually believed his job had value to the entire society. And the value in these cases (this case, since they were tied together by the same client) wasn’t in the clients.
    It was in the cause.
    What he was doing, in defending the clones, was, as Salehi said, trying to guarantee rights for all clones.
    Because right now, the Peyti clones weren’t considered individuals under the law. They were property, and in Armstrong, at least, property could be destroyed or damaged without sanction, even if it were part of an upcoming criminal trial.
    Zhu heard footsteps and instinctively stepped closer to the faux brick wall, protecting his back. But the footsteps retreated, heading down a side street.
    He shook his head at himself, then took a deep breath. If he hadn’t believed in the cause, the cops might have scared him off.
    Hell, everyone might have scared him off.
    Even his ex-fiancée, Berhane Magalhães, who had come to see him at the beginning of the week. She wanted him to stop doing this work, and had even offered him one of those humiliating jobs, which her exceptionally wealthy father would probably pay him to do, if Zhu would only give up his job with S 3 .
    Berhane’s opinion mattered to Zhu. Perversely, it mattered now more than it ever had when they were engaged. The Anniversary Day bombings had brought out a side to Berhane that he had only caught glimpses of, and he admired her deeply now. Loved her even, where before—if he were honest with himself—the love had slowly disappeared (if it had ever existed at all).
    The argument he had with her crystalized what he believed for him. Because of her. Because he respected her. Because part of him wanted to be the guy who left S 3 and helped her with her charities and her good works.
    Instead, he felt like he was doing good works of his own.
    Sure, the Peyti clones had tried to do something horrible, but that didn’t mean all clones had to pay for it. And they would, particularly after the Anniversary Day bombings, which had been caused by yet another group of human clones.
    Most of those clones had died on Anniversary Day (many by their own hands), so S 3 didn’t concern itself with them. Yet.
    But Zhu had a hunch S 3 would. Eventually.
    Not that it was his problem. He needed to get the law firm up and running in less than a week, plus he had to make certain that the police, courts, and prison system honored the injunctions he had slapped on them. No organization, from the Earth Alliance to the United Domes of the Moon to the domed cities themselves, could do anything to the Peyti clones until their status was litigated.
    Or so the injunctions said.
    Zhu had a hunch he’d issued them just in time.
    And, if yesterday’s incident were any indication, he had done the right thing.
    Because if cops were willing to go after a defense attorney working with one of the most high-powered firms in the Alliance, then they would have no qualms about hurting—or even killing—the clones.
    Better that the cops hated him than hated the clones.
    He was shaking just a little. He slowly looked over his shoulder, trying not to appear as paranoid as he felt.
    He didn’t see anyone behind him. But that didn’t mean he was alone. Someone could be watching him, spying on him, wanting to hurt him.
    Zhu had