There’s a pause while she chews on a long stalk, making it last. Jorzy has already finished his share, and is cutting a slice of cheese to go with his bread. Cheese that I saved from my lunch at the garden.

“Ursa was in bad shape back then. There had been a drought for several years in the countryside all around, and the people living in the city were starving. We relied on farm produce, you see – cheese, meat, vegetables. The only thing we could still get for ourselves was fish from the river. And that was in poor supply as the river dried up.

“It was a state emergency, which was why the Federation sent the politicians to see if they could help us,” says Nanna. “Everybody was so demoralised … it needed fresh eyes to find a solution. Even our own Director had given up, and fled to his holiday house on the island of Karis.”

Jorzy reaches out and grabs the bowl. There are a few threads of greens in the bottom of it, which he pushes into his mouth with his fingers. Marina makes a snorting noise. I’ve noticed she’s eaten barely anything; these days I hear her throwing up early each morning.

“Anyway,” Nanna continues, “the Federation men looked all around, and had a lot of meetings, but nothing much seemed to be happening, while we continued to starve. Then a big meeting was called – in the Market Square. These Federation men got up on the stage. That was the first time I saw the Director. He was very good-looking,” she adds, giving one of her rare smiles, “or so everybody said … blond, young, impeccably dressed. Charismatic. There was fire in his eyes, passion in his voice. He spoke to the crowd – that crowd of thin, starving people, more like scarecrows than human beings, Cerels and Travesters alike – for we all lived as equals back then …”

Nanna pauses to eat another forkful of greens, a frown between her brows, the frown she always gets when she thinks about Cerels and Travesters.

“And he told us his news. How he personally had searched for and discovered a deep underground river not that far from the city, part of the Hevel River system. Even as he spoke, he said, irrigation had already begun out in the outlying fields. Crops could be planted again. Not only that, but he had ordered cartloads of food and supplies to be brought in, at the expense of the Federation, from neighbouring Svetlend, where there was no drought, to alleviate our suffering in the meantime.

“The crowd erupted,” Nanna tells us, gazing back into the past. It is a famous day, one of the city’s national holidays, except that these days only the Travesters celebrate it. “There was such joy,” she carries on. “We were saved. The city had been rescued by this young man from the Federation. He was our saviour.”