He was quite liberal on some things . . . almost as liberal as she was about feminism, while he was conservative to the point of hawkishness on foreign affairs. In any case he was a calm debater. He made his points without raising his voice. They kept pouring drinks and talking and, with the sun sinking behind the trees the daylight began to fade. ‘We haven’t had cake yet!’ she exclaimed. ‘Let’s have some.’ They moved indoors just as the buzzing whine of mosquitoes began. He leaned against the refrigerator, watching and chatting as she uncovered the cake . . . not cake really but a layered dessert with chocolate cake and pudding in alternate layers. He was enjoying both their conversation and the view of her legs. As she dished out two slices, he knew he was light headed. She must be too. They moved to the dining room table, under a chandelier with a slowly rotating ceiling fan. He noticed that she had slipped off her sandals and, after sitting, casually pulled one knee up by her. We had outlawed Islam because it could and had been twisted to the purposes of some of its followers to provide the pretext for the actions that killed so many billions of people. That edict elicited a loud protest from several of the women. The guards posted around the perimeter had been warned to watch for and identify those women. I knew cameras were being trained on them. Rather than take immediate action, I wanted to give them a little rope and see how many and who would get comfortable enough to protest. I hoped to identify as many potential troublemakers as possible early on.One woman pushed it, though, exclaiming that she preferred death to being enslaved by infidels. I had Valerie call her bluff, if it was, indeed a bluff. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but if you honestly prefer death, come up front and stand by that tree,” I challenged her. I raised my pistol and buried a few grams of lead in the trunk of the tree. She stormed forward, slowing noticeably as she neared.
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