Paris, Multiculturalism, and Terrorism. Which will survive in France?  Updated 1/13/2015

“You’re going to get in trouble, and you’re going to drag us down with you.”

“No I’m not. And if I do get in trouble, so what? The act of free speech is still a right.”

“Not anymore,” she said with a nervous edge to her voice, “Ever since the Leftists took over, free speech is what they say it is.”

“Free speech is still the freedom to say what we want, to write what we want, so long as it doesn’t incite a riot. If people don’t like it, they don’t have to read it. But trying to suppress someone’s voice is only going to make them stronger.”

“They can shut you down! Don’t you get that?”

He chuckled, still typing as he spoke, “And if they do, then so be it. They’ll prove that they’re everything they profess to be fighting against. I have plenty of secret caches stashed in various locations that are to be unleashed on the Left if something does happen to me.”

“And you trust other people that much to release the materials if you go away? You know it’s coming.”

He raised a single eyebrow, “Oh, I know. I haven’t been careful with my language, and I’ve done this one purpose. The only question I have now isn’t who I can trust, it’s why I couldn’t trust you, my own sister.”

The brunette standing behind him, the one woman he’d known longer than anyone, including their parents, who had been ‘relocated’ when they’d been only kids, blushed with shame as she lowered her head.

“How did you find out? I mean, I mean I did it, because I care about you, because I wanted them to give you a chance…”

“A chance to conform, right? You of all people know that I don’t just fall into line when someone snaps their fingers or barks an order at me. I was hoping that you would have had the guts to see this through with me. But I’m not entirely surprised. Our brother at least went out with his convictions.”

“And look where that got him!”

A firm knock came at the front door of his apartment as his sister stiffened, not meeting his eyes as she looked away.

“I suspect that will be the Left,” he said calmly, “come to talk to me about my latest article no doubt. At least open the door for them so the manager doesn’t have to replace another door please.”

As his sister made her way from his room to the front door, still not looking at him, Lucas sighed to himself, hoping that the message he’d left for her would convince Simone to change her mind, and her ways. Right now though, all he could do was hope.

“Let the games begin,” he said quietly.

(to be continued)

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