Un Soir dans Paris IV

Heat was predictable, which was to the advantage of those that it bothered.

Heat was hot, sure, and heat hit hard, but it was predictable. It moved quickly, where it could, but it had trouble with trees and rocks and apartments and night. Night was bad; night made it cool and less hot, though it was still hot. Apartments at night were the worst, though. Apartments at night were downright bearable, and so even though heat was miserable in almost all cases, Parisians found ways around it.

The meeting was held in an abandoned apartment building in the older section of the city at night. Josephine and Felix arrived a little early, but Simon and a few others were already there. Simon sat at the front of the room, poring over some papers.

"Simon, this is Felix. He's interested in joining the resistance." Josephine's introduction was less than accurate, and Felix flushed. Simon held out a massive hand, and Felix took it, expecting a crushing handshake. He wasn't disappointed.

Simon was tall and well-built, his brown hair dropping in front of his eyes, pushed down by a black beanie.

"Simon's the one behind the whole resistance," Josie explained, patting Simon's shoulder, "he'll tell you it was a team effort, but it was pretty much all him."

Simon laughed humbly, replying, "hardly. I couldn't have done it without you guys. Who smuggled the rifles? Who got the security codes?"

Josie seemed determined. "Yeah, but who planned everything?"

"The meetings are where the planning gets done! It's not like the resistance follows me blindly. We'll leave that sort of devotion to the army."

Felix was surprised to hear Simon calling the government by the term of ill-endearment usually reserved for the Poets.

Simon saw the look on his face. "You prefer that I call them the government? They do no governing. They are killers."

Felix mumbled something, but Simon had already turned away, his voice ringing out over the crowd that had gathered, settling them down.

"Ladies, gentlemen, please. Take your seats."

They did as they were told.

"We have been working for a long time to be as prepared as we are now, on the brink of our fight. The tasks you have completed over the past months and years has been heroic. We have converted fanatics of the army to our side, from the lowest of the workers to top-ranking personnel, and amassed enormous stockades of resources, the least of which include rifles, riot gear, helmets, ammunition, and, of course, our own passion for revolution. The workers have been trodden on for years, but for no longer. We will be heard."

There was some applause, but Simon held up his hands.

"Take the week off. You've earned it. Next week begins the revolution."