Garbage and the Garbage Collector

White State

Dust swirled beneath the blazing sun. Ragged farmers and shepherds stared numbly from afar toward the source of the engine noise. At the end of the bumpy dirt road, a mighty convoy of trucks, covered in rust and welding scars, slowly approached. The lead vehicle presented its credentials before a checkpoint manned by masked soldiers.

Amid the static on the radio, crude chevaux de frise were moved aside. Unfortunately, no weathered singing drifted on the wind to set the mood.

Past the checkpoint and through the valley, the end of the tunnel revealed something utterly unlike the drought and windblown sand outside: a tranquil, jewel-like lake. Around it stood many recently built, shabby houses, and the area buzzed with activity and noise.

The truck convoy drove straight in and stopped beside the village. The young man in the lead truck pushed open the door, leaped down lightly, and removed his sunglasses.

Ignoring the people approaching to search him, he looked around. "Which one of you is Mister Inayat?"

"That's me."

The bearded man who had been waiting for a long time waved away those intending to search him and offered his hand. The youth smiled, shook it, then pulled an ID badge from his pocket. "I'm Yan Fei. This is the credential Mister Ji gave me."

"No need. I've seen you before."

Inayat beckoned and led the way, signaling for him to follow.

Among the many old houses still surrounded by scaffolding stood one that looked as though it had only barely escaped being condemned. Under the bold sunlight outside the window, it did not seem gloomy.

A faint scent of incense lingered in the air, as though someone had specifically cleared out the musty odor. Several pieces of fruit sat on the table.

"Sorry. We're just a