They slowly wove their way through the throng, Elizabeth in the lead, to the far rear of the platform. As they went, Lucy noticed that very few people seemed the least bit upset, unlike Elizabeth. They seemed to accept that this was the way things were. Normal. C’est normal. The workers had every right to take action if their livelihood was threatened. So different, she thought, from the United States, where the least inconvenience was greeted with outrage.

It was very crowded at the rear end of the platform, though not as crowded as the middle, and Lucy leaned against the tunnel wall, resting her back. She could feel the vibration produced by an approaching train, which slid smoothly into the station, already full of people. She wanted to wait for the next train, but Elizabeth shook her head.

“It’s now or never, believe me. It will only get worse.”

Together they joined the crowd squeezing into the car and just made it, the doors sliding shut behind them. Lucy had never been in such a tight situation before. She could barely breathe because of the number of people packed into the car. She looked at the faces of the people around her, none of which showed any signs of discomfort or anger. They were blank. And the people carefully avoided eye contact, if not actual physical contact, with their fellow passengers.

Although their expressions were identical, Lucy was struck by the diversity of the crowd. Old and young, male and female, Asian, Middle Eastern, black and white, they were all there, crammed together in the speeding train. And if a terrorist were to attack the train, the attack would kill not only the hated Westerners, but many of the terrorists’ own people, as well. That was how it was in the 9/11 attacks, how it would be in any cosmopolitan city. It all seemed so crazy.

As the train proceeded toward the center of Paris, there was a slight release of the pressure at the stations, when some people struggled through the crowd and got off, and before others got on. It was during the pauses at the stations that Lucy and Elizabeth were able to worm their way into the interior of the car and eventually were able to hang on to a pole, which made it easier for them to keep their balance, so they weren’t constantly banging into their neighbors when the train swerved as it sped through the underground tunnel. Lucy counted down the stations to Châtelet, where they would change to another line: Saint-Sulpice, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Saint-Michel, Cité, and finally Châtelet. At their stop the struggle to exit caused them to pop onto the platform, where they had to fight their way against the press of people intent on getting on the train.