I'd been back more than a week, and had convinced Pak I needed to go out and look around my sector. Jeno was safe in the Koryo, tired of waiting for a meeting that never seemed to happen. I was standing on a corner, looking at the willow trees along the street. It was quiet; once in a while a car went by, but even the engines seemed muffled. Most of the buildings on the main street were empty. The apartment houses that stood the next street over showed a little more life. Someone had a window open, and the lace curtains billowed in the March wind. Two women walked by, neither one a resident in my sector unless they had slipped in while I was away.
"I don't like seeing corpses on the sidewalk," the first one said.
"Sorry they offend your sensibilities."
"No, it isn't the bodies, it is the reason they are there."
"They're there because that's where people are dying these days."
"They're dying because of decisions."
"Careful." They both looked around.
"The South Koreans say we are their brothers," said the first, lowering her voice as they walked past me. "It was on a piece of paper my cousin found on the ground."
"I never pick up those things. They might have poison on them."
"It didn't seem to hurt him. But it wouldn't surprise me. The South Koreans want us to go hungry. They are willing to let the children starve. More than that, they want the children and the babies to starve. They think that will push us under."
"Have you noticed? There are hardly any babies being born."
"No one has the energy."
"No one has the will."
"Did you eat today?"
"Did I? I don't remember."
They turned and walked toward the river. I went the other way, for fear of what else they might say.