29

The riots ended today. Angilo tells me they estimated almost six thousand Martians dead - immigrants, officers, bystanders. Maybe they even caught a terrorist or two.

I can't eat. I suppose it must have been from the early hours of the riots, when food was hardly the foremost thing on my mind, to the - well, the break-in, I suppose, though you can hardly call it 'breaking in' when they have the keys - and the day or two in the hospital, when they didn't feed me solid food. My stomach feels like it's been shrunk, tightened, to the point where food just doesn't fit there anymore. I feel a swell of nausea every time I think about the act of eating - chewing, swallowing, digesting.

He's worried about it, I can tell. He stands by the window, more often than he sits, but there isn't much of a view. Grimy glass, and there's more across the street, just pane after pane of glass. The window lip is wide enough that you can't see to the street below.

The food from the hospital cafeteria cools, on the table next to my bed.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" he asks me - or some variation on that - every few minutes. I don't respond.

"Rayne," he breathes, finally, exasperated. "You can't starve yourself to death."

"I'm not trying to," I say, softly.

He turns, touches my forehead. It's unwelcome, I suppose. Any touch by the enemy is unwelcome.

My breath releases, in a quiet hiss, and I feel my eyes slide shut.

"It's over," says Angilo. "The riots are over."

"I know."

"Rayne."

"I know."

His fingertips trail down to the edge of my jaw, and there's something awed, shocked about the rhythm of his breathing.

His touch vanishes, all too suddenly, and I hear the door swish open.

It's a nurse - off-white scrubs, rumpled. I wonder how long she's been on duty.

"Ah," says a nurse, "haven't eaten again?"

"No," confirms Angilo.

"I'll take it, then," and she moves towards the tray.

"No," I object, half sitting up.

She pauses.

"I'll give it another shot."

"Okay." She smiles. "Just let me know if you need me," with candyfloss cheer. The door closes behind her.

Angilo watch me take the first few bites.