Tiat

Tiat lived in the wild. As far as he knew he was the only person who did. The woman who taught him to read had died, her house collapsed in a storm. That is what happens with natural things, they return to the ground, so it was of no concern to him. The woman herself was in the ground now.

What did concern him was that things were changing. The trees were leafless and covered with ivy up to their crowns. There were no spring buds, in fact there was no sound except for the crows. The crust of leaves on the ground was from three years ago, brighter objects visible poking up through the litter.

Trash was what he found in the soil wherever he went, and he no longer liked the taste of burrowing animals or drank any water but the rain he collected himself. Trash came from the world of people. The woman had come from that world but she had no respect for them.

She taught him that they were noble creatures like the sparrow that leave no impact on the forest, but he could not equate these lessons with the thing that enclosed and isolated their entire world. When Tiat presented her with a perfectly useful knife that had a naked woman embossed on the handle, she told him to throw it away to which he replied “how do I throw something away?”.

He knew this civilization still existed beyond the increasingly steep piles of waste that surrounded their little grove. Now that he was a young man he had even more questions and did not desire to remain with her bones forever. Ivy had begun to twine around them, so he covered her remains with dirt so that no one would ever disturb them.

Tiat proceeded on foot until the forest floor inclined upward, his footsteps revealing there was nothing but trash beneath his feet. The earth became increasingly broken, bare roots and a few large rocks all that was holding it together until he came to a steep bluff that went up almost vertically before him and out of sight. He climbed up the mound of glass, metal and rubber fragments from which broken bottles and rusted implements endlessly sprouted.

He pulled himself up onto a flat ledge and surveyed a new scene that blew his mind. A jagged plain that would take hours to cross was made entirely of new trash, beyond which he saw his destination. An immense cement wall that stretched from one horizon to the other stood before a great city. He could see the tops of gleaming towers, huge bridges crisscrossing like ribbons in front of them.

He walked up one of the long, sloping ramparts and jumped easily to the top. Tiat looked back down the mountain and could only see fields of waste sloping down out of sight into mist. From this vantage point he imagined someone might think that his little world didn't exist at all.

-

He proceeded down to street level. Ahead of him the underside of a bridge created a shaded area that could have sheltered over a hundred people. Tiat went into this shadow and found that it sheltered something else; garbage. A hundred black bags of it extended to the back wall, one of which contained a dozen or so tubes of perfectly-rolled artwork of some kind.

There were some boys playing a sort of game in the far corner. When they noticed him they went silent and walked over to him curiously. Their hair was cut perfectly short and they wore perfectly new clothes that were unique to each boy. They stared at his long hair and his bare chest.

Tiat unrolled the first of several large, black-and-white images, all of them photographs of the faces of helmeted soldiers marching. These were the first photographs he had ever seen in absolute perfect condition.

“Why are you digging through trash?” the smallest of the boys demanded. “Are you looking for something to eat?”

“I would like some food if you have any to share.” he replied. “I don't know what there is to hunt here but I usually eat crow.”

They stared for a couple of seconds and then burst into laughter.

“I've got some that's almost ready!” one of them snickered, and their laughter rose to hysterics. The noise attracted the attention of other people on the street who kept their distance.

“Can you tell me why all this trash is here?” Tiat asked with a straight face.

“It's waiting for somebody to chuck it over the wall I guess.” the same boy answered.

“If I help you do this will you do something for me in return?” Tiat offered them. “I'd like to clear this space to make a den. But why were these pictures thrown away? They're the most beautiful things I've ever seen.”

A crowd of people had begun to gather, including uniformed police who each had a long glass wand dangling from their belts.

“When did you last have your eyes checked?” asked a large, older man who stepped out from behind a pillar. This man wore a suit and had a dark beard with a streak of gray in it. He gave a reassuring gesture to the police and then looked at Tiat with his head cocked up the way crows do when they spot a meal.

The man blinked for a moment as if privy to some conversation Tiat couldn't hear, then rapidly stole up to him as if to whisper something in his ear.

“You take Ambertal don't you?” the man lowered his voice, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a clear tube with a blue nozzle at one end.

Tiat sensed danger. He leapt instantly straight up onto a large crate, but the man had already stuck him with something sharp. They were all astonished by his agility; the police took out their wands but he was soon on the roof of the nearest building and out of sight.

-

Moving to higher and higher rooftops, Tiat sprinted beyond the reach of any human. For a place with such tall structures these people seemed easily disadvantaged by them. His introduction to this world had been brief and disconcerting. Those boys, that man. The man had stuck him with something, like a wasp. Creatures usually attack defensively or to immobilize their prey. This thought gave him a nervous sweat. Perhaps the man was defending something, possibly those boys. Perhaps they were his.

There were some slow, fat birds which Tiat caught easily. He watched the pink sunset descend over the city, but when it was time to sleep he began to feel hot; his skin itched like a bad case of poison sumac even though there was nothing visibly wrong with it. He spent the entire night like this, curled up and shaking until morning. A new day brought more people and vehicles to the streets below.

He observed the area in which he had encountered his first civilized people. At midday the same bearded man returned to the spot of their encounter. He was the only adult who lingered. He peered into alleys, held a small device to his ear and spoke to it, consumed a food item and discarded the wrapper.

The man was extremely well-groomed and well-fed. To have lived so long Tiat imagined required great cunning, but he couldn't have spent his life on the street because he didn't have the sense to keep his pale skin out of the sun. Finally the man turned and looked up at him.

“Ah, there you are.” he squinted. “Had a rough night did we?”

“What did you do to me?” Tiat demanded.

The man pulled another clear tube with a nozzle from his pocket, this one pink.

“Ambertal comes in two parts, you just forgot to take the second dose. Would you like it now?” he extended it upwards.

“I'm not letting you stick me again.” Tiat declared.

“It does nothing to the body except create dependency.” he explained. “It's an inoculation against social disease, gives us a reason to meet and discuss what's troubling you. That is what I do, I'm a psychiatrist.”

Tiat didn't understand half of what he was saying, but trusted his instincts to keep away.

“The next night you spend without the counteragent will be more hellish than you can imagine.” the man warned him. “And you can't get it anywhere; it belongs to the government. But I always have some on me, and wherever you find me I will give it to you freely. So what is your name?”

Tiat spoke his name and then spelled it out.

“That's not a name.” the man said with a straight face. “What if I call you... John?”

“Why can't you call me what I call myself?” Tiat asked in puzzlement. “Having a name is what separates us from beasts.”

“And what separates you from me?” the man replied immediately. “My name is Dr. Cygnus. The Doctor part I earned, the Cygnus was passed down to me.”

“And who were those boys?” Tiat inquired. “Do you protect them?”

“Those urchins?” the doctor showed amusement. “They're a study group, one of many. You could say I protect them from dangerous ideas. Which brings us to the subject of you.”

The man's answers seemed to go around in a circle.

“And was that where they live?” Tiat inquired.

“You really don't know, do you?” the man looked up at him in amazement. “And I ask myself how could that possibly be?”

Tiat was again reminded of being sized up by a crow, not a predator but a shiftless hopeful opportunist. That's what this man was, a scavenger.

“Why do you produce so much waste?” Tiat voiced the question that had been foremost on his mind, the one he had climbed the hill to ask.

“Why do I produce waste?” he misunderstood.

“Yes, why does so much work go into making things that are never used again?” Tiat demanded.

“I don't represent the city's sanitation department.” the man chuckled. “I can't say I've ever given it much thought. If by some strange circumstance you came upon some waste from a human being would you examine it like a dog wondering why it was left there? What could you possibly use it for?”

“Seeds.” Tiat answered.

“Beg pardon?”

“There are seeds that won't grow until they've been digested.” he said plainly.

Dr. Cygnus was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Is that a fact?” he cleared his throat. “Well I'm sure agriculturists have some other method. I have however seen a lot of cases, but I don't think I've ever seen one of you. Where did you spend the night before last, and every night before that?”

“In a tree.” Tiat replied immediately.

Cygnus frowned as he typed the word t-r-e-e into his handheld device.

“I know what a tree is,” he conceded, “but how did you find yourself there?”.

“I am from outside the wall.” Tiat stated clearly, giving him pause.

“This wall?” the doctor turned and glanced at the ungainly slope. “So you are from another town?”

“No, I scaled that wall and the trash barrier beyond it.” Tiat indicated the spot.

“Your metaphor escapes me.” Cygnus turned back around. “I know what's on the other side of that wall, there is a nice view from any sizable tower.”

“What about on foot?” Tiat challenged him.

The man dismissed this with a snort as if it was something beneath him.

“With your agility I don't expect your concept of distances is the same as mine.” he answered. “So what do people eat where you are from?”

“There are no people.” Tiat answered.

The man stopped writing as if coming to realize it was not sufficient to describe this information.

“You'll have to forgive me,” he chose his words carefully, “I'm accustomed to dealing with people's insecurities, in which case the patient and I have to agree on what is real. I'm trying to determine where your reality comes from, for example this expression 'trash barrier'.”

“I thought perhaps it’s there to keep people out of the city.” Tiat replied.

Again this did not reveal to him whatever it was he wanted to know.

“No, it isn't.” he answered simply. “You are welcome here.”

“I don't feel welcome. I feel like I'm being hunted.” Tiat looked him squarely in the eye.

“Do you see any police?” he replied. “I wanted you to see I am no threat to you, and I'm giving you the time and space to decide that for yourself.”

“If I couldn't scale walls what would have happened to me yesterday?” Tiat countered him.

“I wouldn't have had the chance to meet you this way, and the opportunity I am presented with.” he answered solemnly. “It's true I have a job to do, but I am given leniency to set this aside on certain occasions. You can at least trust that I'm telling you the truth.”

Tiat could see that he was now trying to provoke sympathy from him.

“I came here to find answers.” he stated finally.

“Answers are what I have to give.” Cygnus said amicably. “You and I speak the same language; I'm the most likely person to give you an ear.”

As Tiat considered this peculiar turn of phrase the man held up the clear tube in his hand.

“I'll give you time to think about it.” he said. “Are you a good catch? I wouldn't want this to break and rob you of a night's sleep.”

He tossed it upward and Tiat had no choice but to reach out and catch it. The man made a gesture as if tipping a hat he wasn't wearing, and walked away.

-

Tiat didn't want the vial of antidote but when the tremors began to return he could feel his body craving it. Holding the nozzle to his skin he pressed the button as the man had done. The relief was instantaneous, but an instant later was followed by confusion and worry.

And yet as he caught and ate the slow birds and observed the city he could not help pondering every part of their bewildering conversation and the questions it raised.

After a tolerable night sleep, he saw Dr. Cygnus pass beneath him again. The man simply went about his business as if he had forgotten about him. Tiat noticed another tube of glass bulging from his pocket and the sight of it disturbed him.

“I did some research on the area you say you came from.” the man finally looked up at him. “I haven't spoken to my colleagues about you for fear my methods will be considered too lenient.”

“Why do people come to the great square to throw things away?” Tiat demanded.

“I'm not sure I understand you.” the doctor cocked his head.

“They come, leave their waste, and go.” Tiat explained. “If the man didn't come to clean it up there would be a mountain there. Which means there is a mountain of it somewhere.”

The doctor stroked his beard.

“Theoretically I suppose that is true.” he conjectured. “But what else would you have them do?”

“Meet each other, communicate, make decisions?” Tiat reasoned.

“Well there are places where people do those things.” he replied. “I can show you if you like.”

“You told me trash is something people don't want anything to do with,” Tiat pointed out, “and yet you keep it so close to you at all times. If people carried the things they need as I do and used them each time would it not be more practical?”

The doctor's nostrils steamed as if this was not what he was hoping to talk about.

“Let me put it this way, it doesn't say anything good about you.” Tiat clarified.

“It doesn't say anything about me.” Cygnus scoffed. “It doesn't speak.”

Tiat reached into his satchel and pulled out a shard from a broken plate which he kept as a cutting tool.

“My teacher told me these were evidence of a family sitting down to a meal.” he said.

“You had a teacher...” Cygnus changed the subject. “Is that how you acquired these morals you are expressing? I deal with people who have run away from home, been abandoned, sometimes locked in a dark place their entire life. Difficulties force people to create their own reality, their own truths. So before you say anything more I should tell you that despite what you may believe, I think you are returning to us following a conflict of some kind. That you are not from anywhere else, that you are from here.”

Tiat shook his head at this nonsense.

“I never saw a city before.” he refuted him. “I make my own clothes, can’t you see that?”

“But you are not a squirrel.” Dr. Cygnus interjected. “You and I have the same hands, the same speech, so it stands to reason we are related does it not?”

Moments after thinking this man was a fool, Tiat was at a loss.

“Do you know who your parents were? I can have you tested at our facility, my goal ultimately is to take you there. If you have family living we can find out who they are.”

He had disarmed Tiat long enough to insert this guiltless objective.

“I am not one of you.” Tiat reacted defensively.

“But you have needs like other people, that is why you are here isn't it?” the doctor responded, placing the glass tube at his feet as if to lure him to the ground.

“I was healthy…” Tiat objected.

“When someone has cancer their body is subjected to poisons and radiation. I cure social cancers, that's all.”

He turned and left, skillfully outmaneuvering whatever suited him. Tiat didn’t like that this man knew things. Was it even possible? He didn’t want to have anything in common with him.