YING ZHENG'S NUCLEAR BOMB
Part One
1
The grand hall of the Time Immigration Bureau gleamed with opulent splendor, its gilded surfaces reflecting my own wretchedness back at me in merciless detail.
I fumbled nervously for my bank card and handed it across the counter.
The immigration officer glanced at the balance and let slip a cold smirk so subtle it was almost imperceptible. "With this amount, the Warring States period is about all you can afford."
"Come on," I protested. "Better a dog in peacetime than a man in wartime. Can't you at least send me to the late Qing dynasty?"
"Late Qing?" He rolled his eyes. "With opium and Manchu-Han banquets and the pretty girls of the Eight Great Alleys—you think that comes cheap? Let me tell you, the Warring States is already an eighty percent discount."
"But the Warring States is chaos! Constant warfare, lives snuffed out at any moment!"
He was losing patience. "Warring States is what's available. Take it or leave it. Nobody's forcing you."
What an outrageous thing to say.
Nobody was forcing me, true—but reality was forcing everyone. Social resources had become hyper-concentrated; ninety percent of the world's wealth was controlled by a handful of plutocratic dynasties—the Morgans, the Mitsui conglomerate, the Du Ponts. Perched atop their pyramids like gods, they gazed down upon the teeming masses.
Their estates stretched for hundreds of miles. Even their air and water were custom-made.
The conglomerates had annexed most of the world's land. People like me from the ordinary classes had almost nowhere to stand. A single slum block could cram in ten thousand souls, packed like sardines. No fresh fruit or vegetables—only the same synthetic food substitutes day after day, and drinking water that always reeked of chlorine and disinfectant. Under these conditions, many had chosen "time immigration."
If this era was no longer fit for survival, let the rich keep it. Throughout five thousand years of human history, surely a person of wit could find a patch of sky to call their own?
And so, everyone who could leave, did leave—just like the emigration waves of decades past.
The Tang and Song dynasties had become the hottest destinations; life there, by all accounts, could be summed up in one word: comfortable. Next came the Ming-Qing and the Han dynasties. As for the Spring and Autumn or Warring States periods—those were the coldest of cold tickets. After all, who wanted to blow their life savings just to become a human target?
But my savings were what they were. Facing the immigration officer's impatience, I gritted my teeth. "Fine. Warring States it is."
2
Precious few people chose to go to the Warring States period. I waited six months before we finally scraped together six people—the minimum required for a time-travel departure.
The other five were not talkative—wooden, really—except for one guy. He called himself Dodge, with a face full of bristly whiskers and a solidly built frame. Outside the transit pod, he sized me up with open curiosity. I quickly offered him a cigarette. "Dodge, hello—name's Quinn. Once we're over there, I'd appreciate you looking out for me."
He took the cigarette and lit up. "What's eating you that you have to go to the Warring States?"
I smiled bitterly. "Isn't it obvious? No money."
"Fair enough. Anyone with money would stay away from that age of war and chaos. A few stray arrows, and you wouldn't even know how you died. Let me tell you, I did my research before coming. Since the time-travel technology was invented, the total number of people who chose the Warring States barely cracks fifty."
I clicked my tongue. "That few?"
"That few." Dodge nodded. "The last time someone traveled to the Warring States was six years ago."
The transit pod doors slid open. We stripped off our clothes and walked in naked. According to the laws of time travel, no one could carry any objects during transit; doing so would trigger temporal turbulence and endanger one's life.
At the entrance of the pod, a prominent notice was posted: "All travelers are expected to respect and obey the local customs and laws of their destination era. The Time Immigration Bureau accepts no liability for injury or death resulting from a traveler's own actions."
"Lot of good that does," Dodge scoffed. "If we're dead, how are they going to be responsible? Complete waste of ink."
"Didn't they say once the reverse-transit technology is perfected, they can summon us back?"
"Summon us back, my ass!" Dodge cursed. "Reverse-transit tech—you still believe that? Those rich bastards would love nothing more than for us never to come back. Less competition for their land, their air! Let me tell you, this whole 'time immigration' program is just their way of culling the population without firing a shot. We're the garbage they've taken out. You think they'd ever let us back in?"
Dodge's words struck like nails in my heart. I fell silent.
Everything was ready. The big screen displayed the destination coordinates: September 16, 225 BCE, 9:32 AM. East longitude 108.7, north latitude 34.36.
The quantum accelerator engaged, and the entire transit pod began to shake with a deafening roar. Amid the tremendous noise, Dodge suddenly threw back his head and laughed. "Hahahaha! I'm out of here! The world is yours and it's ours, but at the end of the day, it belongs to you motherless bastards!"
A blinding flash. I felt myself torn apart like a sheet of paper, spiraling downward, ever downward through a vortex. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in a strange, open wilderness.
"Where is this?" I looked around. Six grown men standing naked under the open sky—quite the awkward picture.
"Those coordinates point to the outskirts of Xianyang," Dodge said, swinging his equipment with evident delight. "We made it!"
Xianyang? So this was Qin territory. The state of tigers and wolves. Nothing to celebrate.
"Which direction should we head?" Dodge pointed toward Xianyang. "Well then, Quinn—this is where we part ways."
I was startled. "You five came together?"
"Of course. Teamwork makes survival easier."
"Wait!" I said hastily. "Let me join your team!"
"You?" Dodge hesitated.
"Dodge, you're not going to just watch me die alone in a foreign land, are you?"
Dodge consulted with the others, then said, "All right. We'll take you as far as Xianyang first."
My heart settled. In a situation like this, huddling together for warmth beat going solo by a mile.
We hadn't gone far when we spotted a notice pasted on a tree. Four bold characters: TIME TRAVELERS DIE!
"That's odd," I said, frowning. "Why is that in simplified Chinese? During this period, Qin should be using the Great Seal script."
Dodge's brow furrowed as well. "I'm afraid... that was written specifically for us."
A chill ran down my bare back. Just then, the sound of galloping hooves rose in the distance. Dodge's face went pale. "We've been spotted! Run!"
But before we could bolt, a cavalry squadron blocked our path. Staring at the cocked crossbows aimed our way, none of us dared move. Those things would punch a hole right through you—far more terrifying than anything on TV.
"Who are you?" one of the cavalrymen demanded in a thick accent that was barely comprehensible.
"Us? Merchants! Come to Xianyang to do business..." Dodge improvised, words and gestures working in tandem.
"Merchants? Without clothes?" The cavalryman gave a cold laugh.
"We were robbed on the road—"
"Nonsense! Great Qin's laws are strict. Where are you from?" The cavalryman pulled a half-eaten flatbread from his tunic and tossed it to us. "What is this?"
Hell if we knew—we'd just arrived. Dodge thought for a long moment, then ventured cautiously: "A roujiamo?"
"These are time travelers," the cavalryman declared, turning to his men. "Take them."
3
We six were shackled and thrown into the Xianyang dungeon. At least they gave us prison garb.
I never imagined I'd enter Xianyang like this.
An official appeared at the dungeon gate, richly dressed and imposing. He looked us over and said, "I am Li Si."
Li Si—the Chancellor of Qin! I blurted out, "Lord Li, please let us go! We can help Great Qin unify the world!"
Li Si said coolly, "Great Qin is at the height of its power; unifying the six states is a foregone conclusion. Your assistance is quite unnecessary. I come bearing the King of Qin's decree: all time travelers are to be executed. Tomorrow at noon, I will personally send you on your way. This is the greatest honor His Majesty can bestow upon you."
I was beyond despair. "Why does the King of Qin want us exterminated?"
"Since the time of King Zhaoxiang, time travelers have appeared one after another, destabilizing the political order and spreading rumors. The various states are all sick of it. It's not just Great Qin—if you went to any other state, you'd meet the same fate. However, my king is magnanimous and has ordered me to oversee the execution as a mark of respect. But..." Li Si paused. "You are all people from the future. Why have you come here?"
I wanted to tell him we couldn't survive in the future anymore and had come here instead. Little did we know we'd die even faster in the past.
This long arc of civilization—five thousand years up and down—and nowhere for people like me to belong.