Chapter 113: Chapter 113: Wormhole Time Machine III

He dragged me toward the palace and Professor Douglas’ words rang in my head: Do not tell anyone about the future. History will change if it is not a parallel universe.

Could I possibly be the cause of Maya’s downfall?

The problem was I do not know how the civilization ended! What did my host say? Was he pretending not to know now? Should I just tell the queen what he wanted to say?

But if I do that, I would definitely be executed! Isn’t telling the queen that her nation was about to be destroyed just the same as digging my own grave? Hell, I should just be glad that she wasn’t offended by my lack of etiquette. I had actually forgotten to get down on my knees and shout ‘long live Your Majesty’.

Before I could formulate a plan, I found myself at the palace.

It was already night time now and the queen was resting on her throne.

The soldiers were standing guard all around, 24/7 I believed.

The worshipper shouted urgently, “We have a big problem, Your Majesty!”

The queen sat up straight and responded calmly, “Speak slowly, don’t rush.”

“This new guy said something in his dream. Something about God of Destruction,” the worshipper went on, panicking.

“God of Destruction? Who are you exactly?” she asked me rather unhappily.

I felt a little dizzy. I shook my head helplessly. “I don’t know, my head is damaged and I can’t recall anything. Perhaps some memories came back when I was asleep. I don’t even know who I am, please believe me.”

The queen fell silent.

The worshipper nodded, backing me up. “He might be telling the truth. He was like a completely different person when he was sleeptalking. He kept shouting with a slur and I can’t really understand much.”

After a short pause, the queen spoke, “You said that he only spoke of those words after falling asleep?”

The worshipper nodded.

“Get him to sleep now then,” she instructed.

“Get me to sleep? How can I possibly fall asleep right now?” I asked worriedly.

“We have to come up with a way to make you fall asleep,” the worshipper insisted.

“Are you sure that you two aren’t in cahoots? Aren’t you just doing all this to get a sip of my honey wine?” the queen questioned after another brief pause.

“I’ll swear upon everything that I’ve got, Your Majesty,” he hurriedly reassured her.

She waved her hand and a guard stepped into the hall.

I hesitantly began, “What is honey wine? Why do I have to drink this?”

The queen ignored me and said, “I’m about to get you drunk with my precious honey wine. If you don’t bring me the news that I am hoping for, the two of you will be burned to death.”

I was confused. “Burned to death? Why is a jar of wine going to bring such big problems?”

“You’ll be tied up and left under the sun to roast. When you’re all dried up and shriveled, you’ll be buried,” the worshipper told me with a shaky voice. “I swear I heard you saying ‘God of Destruction’! Don’t bring me any trouble!”

“But it’s just wine? Is there a need to go that far?”

“Just wine? This is luxurious wine and we only produce 10 bottles each year as a sacrifice for the Gods,” the worshipper snapped.

I didn’t say anything more since it was clear that I knew nothing about their culture. The less I talk, the better.

Shortly after, the guard took out a bowl that contained a viscous liquid that was a tangerine yellow in color.

The queen waved her hand once more. “Drink up and have a good sleep. We’ll see if your answer pleases me.”

The guard handed me the bowl and I finished it in a gulp.

Sweet. Excessively sweet.

I felt the liquid flow down my throat.

I couldn’t taste any wine at all, but perhaps it was overpowered by the sweetness.

I did not feel drunk but I found myself unable to move. My limbs started to squirm uncontrollably.

I heard myself talking but it was not really me. I was not in control.

“You’re the queen of Poorless Nation? I’m in your palace?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yes. I see things have changed now. Speak. Who exactly are you?”

“I’m a soldier of Poorful Nation. I ran away because my nation is destroyed. Completely wrecked.”

Tears fell down uncontrollably.

“What was the cause?” she quizzed.

“God of Destruction. He looked down at us and something huge struck us. A glistening liquid entered the palace, the tunnels, and everywhere else before solidifying,” I answered.

“A flood?”

“No, it’s sticky. I think it’s the sun because it was extremely hot. Touching it means instant death. There was no way to escape. I saw the liquid filling up the palace and the Gods using a massive metal sheet to dig the palace out. All that was left of it were the iron tunnels and the skeleton of the main hall. The solidified liquid caused all of these. It’s a tribulation. We must have done something wrong and the Gods are punishing us.”

The queen retorted proudly, “It’s because of your people’s laziness.”

“No, no! God of Destruction destroyed us and they will destroy your nation too,” I warned her.

Oh gosh. That was the ultimate blasphemy! I am a dead man for sure.

“Why do you say that? We are so diligent. The Gods can see our efforts so why would they destroy us?” she asked, confused.

“Because 63,” I simply said.

“63?”

“Among 100 laborers, there will always be 63 who skive off. Removing those who skive, half of the remaining 37 will start to goof off. It’s a fact, whether poorless or poorful. Your nation chooses to force the 63 to work while my nation chooses to make the 37 work even harder. You think we’re lazy, but it’s the same on your side.”

“What... who told you to say this?” she raged.

“Our queen. It’s only inevitable. The Gods have punished us and they will punish you, too. There will always be skivers and there’s nothing you can do to stop it,” I finished before collapsing.

My host seemed to have lost consciousness, but I could still perceive everything.

The queen made no order to execute me, which I was grateful for, but instead, fell into a deep silence.

After some time, she shouted for the worshipper.

“What is it, Your Majesty?” he responded immediately.

“Is it what he said about 63 and 37 true? No, don’t answer that, just come with me. I’m going to the quarry. Wake 100 workers up now and make it quick. I need to know how many are skiving. Bring him along,” she ordered angrily.

My face was on the ground so I could not see anything, but I am pretty sure that she was referring to me.

“But it’s night time and it’s not safe outside,” the worshipper protested.

“This is an order,” she yelled firmly.

I felt hands pulling me up. Guards, I supposed.

They dragged me out and being semi-paralyzed, I could not open my eyes and see anything.

Instead, I heard some drums and shuffling.

A long time later, the queen roared, “Count for me. How many of them are skiving? Why? Why is this happening?”

“1.”

“2.”

...

“18.”

“19.”

...

“78.”

“79.”

“80, Your Majesty. Only 20 are genuinely working. The rest is just acting perfunctorily,” the worshipper noted in fear.

“Why? Why are we doing worse than Poorful Nation?” she questioned in disbelief.

“Perhaps it’s just too late right now and they’re feeling tired. They’re supposed to be resting now, after all,” the worshipper rationalized.

She mumbled indignantly, “No, no. We can’t allow this. If we’re this lazy, how are we any different from Poorful Nation? God of Destruction will kill us all.”

“What should we do next, Your Majesty?” the worshipper asked in a trembling voice.

“Let them return home. Wait for this guy to wake up. Execute him if he remembers that he’s from Poorful Nation. Otherwise, make him stay and toil,” she commanded.

“But we have yet to settle the matter regarding God of Destruction.”

“Convey my order tomorrow. Skivers will be burned to death,” she finished before walking away.

The worshipper instructed the guards, “Bring him back to my room and remember to tie him up.”

...

Three to four hours later, the feeling in my body started to come back again.

With some effort, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. I felt hungover. It was unbearable.

The worshipper asked, “Do you remember who you are?”

“Me? Who am I? I think my head is damaged,” I answered.

He sighed. “You’re part of us. You really can sleep, can’t you? It’s already two in the afternoon. You shall rest today and start work tomorrow. We mustn’t laze around. I’ll leave you alone now that you’re awake and get back to building our nation.”

He untied the ropes around my body before exiting the room.

I found it almost unbelievable how easily he was deceived.

I continued to lie down on the stone bed but I didn’t dare to go back to sleep. I feared that the host might wake up and start spouting nonsense again.

Tomorrow was my last day here so I just needed to hang on till then and I would be free.

Next morning.

A guard opened the door.

Other than the queen, all civilians were toiling outside the palace.

The skivers were being picked out from the crowd. They were all secured against wooden frames and left under the sun.

I was now starting to understand what that death penalty was about.

“You! Why don’t I recognize you? Are you skiving?” a guard above me asked.

I quickly picked some stones up and transport them as fast as I could. That went on from morning till noon.

Lunch was being served.

After filling our tummies, we got back to work. It felt like a concentration camp.

I didn’t know why they were knocking and transporting these rocks. Was this the start of the pyramid construction? I remembered that the Mayans also had pyramids. Did the Gods instruct them on this? Would they be punished if it was not done properly? Could that be the cause of their fall?

Thoughts of that filled my mind the whole day.

It was almost the evening when I felt the ground shake.

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

The sky turned dark and something massive appeared overhead.

“The Gods are here,” people cried out.

They ran into the palace and a laborer beside me pulled me up. “Why are you in a daze! It’s safe inside, come quick!”

I looked up, standing motionless.

So they were the Gods...

They were even taller than Mount Everest.

A boundless silver object was pressing down on us. Seconds later, it released a flaming liquid.

The glistening liquid flowed into the palace’s entrance like magma.

The laborer who was planning to drag me in knelt down onto the ground and tremble non-stop. He shouted in realization, “The queen is gone, our nation is gone. We’re nothing. Everything is gone.”

A splitting headache suddenly hit me and a loud ringing buzzed in my ears once more.

I closed my eyes with much difficulty since I was starting to lose control of my body again.

I felt myself drawing away as if all of this was just a dream.

It felt as though I have been a drunkard for the past three days and everything was illusory.

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see anything.

Someone grabbed my head and my headgear came off.

“You’re back, congratulations,” Professor Douglas welcomed me.

I cried out, “It’s Maya. Maya’s gone.”

He asked agitatedly, “You made it? To Maya? BCE?”

“Yes, they have Gods. Visible Gods. It’s terrifying,” I answered.

He untied the fasteners on my body. “Don’t be anxious, we will record everything down, so just take all the time you need to share your experience. The more detailed the better.”

I nodded furiously.

I shared everything that happened over the past three days.

The person recording the notes smiled as he closed his book. “It’s been hard on you.”

I received a message on my phone.

10,000,000 has been transferred into my bank account.

...

Epilogue.

I spent 5,000,000 on a penthouse in the city center and invested the rest in some stocks to ensure that I get sufficient passive income to survive comfortably.

I got married to a beautiful woman and had a daughter.

One day, when I was watching television, my wife was playing with our daughter on an iPad. My five-year-old daughter suddenly shouted, “Ants!”

“Yeah, ants!” My wife smiled encouragingly at her.

Ants? Maya?

My hair stood on end.

I snatched the iPad over and saw on the screen a thumbnail of a foreigner pouring a basin of a magma-like substance onto the ground.

I clicked on it and saw a video titled, ‘Ants and Aluminium (22 kilograms) – Pouring Hot Aluminium Into an Ant’s Nest’.

I returned the iPad to my wife and plopped back onto the sofa. I fished out my phone and called Professor Douglas.

He gave me his number back then and said that I could contact him anytime.

The line connected after a few rings.

“What is it? Who is this?”

“I’m Luqiao, Professor.”

“Oh, I remember now. How have you been?”

“How’s the time machine coming along?”

“We’ve conducted many experiments and it seems that we can only go back in time. We are constantly improving, of course, and we aim to make a breakthrough within the next 10 years. When that time comes, proper time travel will no longer be a dream.”

As I listened to him, I slowly realized what the actual situation was. I didn’t dare mention anything to him, though.

“Oh, I wish you good luck then,” I said instead.

“You called me just to ask that? Nothing else?”

“Actually, there is something. My daughter has an insect-related assignment and she asked what would happen if humans became ants.”

“Instantly? Interesting question. Humans perceive the world through sight, hearing and touch, but ants do it through touch and smell. If humans were to become ants, I would think that their brains will start to turn hazy and malfunction. Of course, a human brain is adaptable and the hazy images will be reorganized to trick the human into believing that he still has a sense of sight. I remember watching a news about an amblyopic girl going blind, yet not realizing it until she left her home and entered a foreign environment. Her brain had been tricking her. Of course, this is just a hypothetical question. Are classes really so difficult nowadays or was I just overthinking things? Humans and ants... super strength perhaps? I don’t know actually, heh.”

“Alright, thank you, Professor. I’ll think about it on my own. Nice chatting with you.”

I hung up and felt a chill running down my spine.