Martian Unity Day

As the metal door whooshed open and the gangplank descended, thunking down onto the dusty landscape, Briggs was met by a small Martian delegation led by Gwrkut, the Martian Minister of Interplanetary Relations.

“Greetings, Earthman Briggs,” Gwrkut said, stepping forward and outstretching his arms. “We are delighted to finally make contact.”

“You must be Gwrkut,” Briggs laughed in his booming baritone, bounding down the gangplank and scooping up the diminutive Martian in a giant hug. Gwrkut winced as his feet were lifted off the ground.

“Welcome to Mars,” Gwrkut choked out as Briggs released him. “You must be exhausted from your trip.” 

“Yes. Yes, indeed.” Briggs took a good look at the Martian delegation. There were six of them, each one 3 or 4 feet tall, with emerald-green skin. “Say, you’re much shorter than I imagined.”

“And you much larger.” The delegates laughed, and Briggs grinned. “We have much to show you,” Gwrkut said eagerly, beckoning Briggs into a small hovership, the rest of the Martians squeezing in the backseat behind them. “It’s a wonderful time for you to arrive,” Gwrkut said as they sped off toward the gates of the Martian city ahead. “Tomorrow is Unity Day, our most treasured holiday. We have prepared a wonderful ceremony to be presided over by Vlxor, our king.”

“Wow! You have a king,” Briggs proclaimed with delight.

“Indeed. He has been our benevolent ruler for 2000 years now. We Martians are an ancient race.” 

As the hovership glided into the city, Briggs was greeted by a bustling metropolis, buildings towering against the red-hued sky, thousands of Martians zipping around in hoverships and aircars, their movements coordinated like an elaborate dance. 

“We have prepared first-class quarters for you in the Infinity Tower,” Gwrkut said, “but first, we must check in with Kznell, the Minister of Galactic Peace.” The hovership slid to a stop in front of a giant cathedral-like dome, with rows of smoky grey windows and a magnificent portico.

“Galactic peace, you say? Must be a tough job.”

“Far from it,” Gwrkut scoffed, a hint of derision in his voice. “We have been at perfect peace since the dawn of the universe. It’s merely a ceremonial title.” As the delegation departed the hovership, Kznell appeared at the top of the Portico, rushing towards them. His skin was a deep purple color, like that of an overripe plum. 

“Interesting!” Briggs exclaimed.

“What is that?” Gwrkut asked.

“Well, he’s purple!” Briggs replied. He glanced around and sure enough, there were other purple Martians as well. The vast majority were emerald-green, just like Gwrkut, but here and there scattered throughout the crowd were purple Martians, just like…

“Kznell,” Gwrkut said as a way of introduction. Kznell came to a halt in front of them, shot a disapproving look at Gwrkut, and turned to Briggs.

“Greetings, Earthman!” he exclaimed, puffing out his chest. “We are delighted at your arrival. I trust Gwrkut here has been taking care of you.”

“Indeed I have,” Gwrkut said, before Briggs could answer. “I was just expounding upon our perfect history of peace.”

“Very good,” Kznell said impatiently. “I look forward to presenting you to Vlxor, our king, tomorrow during the Unity Day celebration. Goodbye, Earthman.” Kznell frowned once more at Gwrkut and then rushed back into the dome cathedral.

After he was gone, Gwrkut turned to Briggs, “What is purple?”

“What?”

“Just then, you said Kznell is purple. What is purple?”

Briggs furrowed his brow. “Why, it’s a color.”

“Color?” Gwrkut felt how this word sounded on his lips. “We do not know this word. Color.”

“You don’t know what colors are? Say, that is interesting! So you don’t know that you’re green and Kznell is purple?”

“Are green and purple different? Are we all different…colors?”

“Well, no. As far as I can tell, most of you are green. Only a few are purple.”

“Very interesting, indeed.” Gwrkut fell into deep thought as they loaded back onto the hovership. “Tell me more of this thing you call color.” 

That night, as Briggs sat in his room atop the Infinity Tower, he retraced the conversation and wondered if he had done the concept of color justice. After all, he was just a space captain. He was in no position to explain the science of wavelengths and cone receptors and the refraction of light. 

“What an interesting world,” he said to himself, surveying the city below. Just beyond the wall, he could see the dim outline of his rocketship, the metal gleaming in the light of the two Martian moons. From the Martian streets below, he heard the wisp of music rising into the crisp night air, growing louder and louder until he could hear all the Martians singing in unison, a gentle, enchanting melody in perfect harmony. “It’s beautiful,” Briggs said. “Earth could certainly learn a thing or two.” 

The next morning, Gwrkut and his delegation picked Briggs up in the hovership and took him on a tour of the Martian world, zipping through the streets and canals. Gwrkut was in high spirits, expounding at length on the history of every building and landmark. Every now and then, he would stop to ask if Briggs saw any more of these purple Martians, and then would nod his head and repeat, “Interesting, interesting,” as Briggs pointed them out one by one. There always seemed to be at least one or two purple Martians in sight, but as far as Briggs could tell, it was purely random, the Martians themselves not even aware of the difference. 

As the day grew late and the sun disappeared over the Martian horizon, Gwrkut led the procession back to the dome cathedral, a crowd already gathered and spilling out into the surrounding streets.

“The whole city is here for Unity Day,” Gwrkut explained as they entered the dome, the interior resembling something of a giant coliseum with thousands of Martians packed to the rafters. At the center, Knzell was already addressing the crowds, extolling the virtues of Unity Day and their history of peace. Behind him, another Martian sat in a large eggshell compartment. He appeared ancient, his body small and hunched, his skin wrinkled and a faded olive green.

“Our king, Vlxor,” Gwrkut whispered to Briggs as he was led out into the middle of the dome. “But he is old, and his days are numbered.” 

“What happens when he’s gone?” Briggs asked.

“Well, Kznell is second in line for the throne,” Gwrkut said as a sly smile worked its way across his face. “But should he abdicate, I am third in line.” Something in Gwrkut’s voice made Briggs uneasy, but before he had a chance to dwell on it, he was being called to the center of the stage as Kznell began his introduction.

“Oh esteemed king, may I present to you the Earthman, Briggs!” The crowd quieted down as Briggs was brought in front of the king. The king’s head lolled to one side, his glazed-over eyes looking off in the distance. Slowly, the king raised a single pruny finger, and the crowd erupted into cheers. “He has acknowledged you, Earthman,” Kznell proclaimed in triumph as Briggs was shuttled away. Turning back to the roaring crowds, Kznell said, “Let us now go forth and celebrate this great day of…”

“Wait!” a voice shouted, interrupting Kznell’s conclusion. The crowd became silent, and all eyes turned towards Gwrkut, his hands raised in the air. “I have something to say! The Earthman has brought us quite alarming news. It appears that there is dis-unity among us!” A ripple of anticipation swept through the rafters. Kznell scowled as he took a step backward on the platform, allowing Gwrkut to take center stage. 

“There exists a concept called color that is wholly foreign to us and is based on intangible qualities called green and purple.” A murmur of confusion swept through the dome. Gwrkut waved his hands, quieting the crowd until he had their full attention. Kznell shuffled anxiously in the background, glaring daggers at the back of Gwrkut’s head. Gwrkut continued: “I cannot go into the specifics, but suffice it to say that the vast majority of us are green. However, there are many among our number, undetected until now, who are not green but purple!” The crowd gasped, and Gwrkut paused to let this sink in. 

Kznell took this moment to jump forward and retake control. He shouted, “We must drive them from our midst! We must preserve our perfect unity!” At this, the crowd broke into a roar of applause, and Gwrkut smiled. “Where are these purple Martians who bring disunity among us?” Knzell yelled.

Members of Gwrkut’s delegation emerged from the crowd as if on cue, raygun blasters in hand, leading a procession of two dozen frightened Martians, shoving the first one in front of Briggs. 

“Earthman Briggs!” Gwrkut shouted, “Will you confirm that the Martian in front of you is purple?”

“Well, yes,” Briggs stammered, “but…” 

Gwrkut cut him off as the Martian was dragged away, and another was laid at his feet. “And is this Martian purple as well?”

“Yes, but again…”

“Will you confirm that all of the Martians lined up before you are purple?” Gwrkut shouted, turning to the crowd theatrically, cheers and boos and hissing all intermixed in a cacophony of excitement.

“Well, sure, but…” Briggs said, scratching his head, flummoxed by the whole ordeal.

“Kznell,” Gwrkut said, turning away from the crowd. “As Minister of Galactic Peace, it is your duty to decide on the appropriate punishment.”

Kznell looked towards the Martian king, who remained motionless except for a single finger wiggling in approval. Wasting no time, Kznell addressed the crowds. “I decree that all purple Martians shall be vaporized! We must preserve our perfect unity!” The crowds erupted into thunderous applause, Kznell standing triumphantly before them, basking in the acclaim.

“One more thing,” Gwrkut yelled, quieting the crowds down once again. “Earthman Briggs, are there any other purple Martians, perhaps standing here on this platform, that you can identify tonight?”

Briggs went white as all eyes turned on him. 

“All purple Martians must be exposed!” Kznell yelled. 

“Well…I guess if I have to point out the purple Martian here among us…” Briggs paused, at a loss. The silence grew heavy with anticipation, and Briggs shuffled nervously under the glare of the entire Martian civilization. “I guess I’d have to say…it’s you.” Briggs looked at Kznell and frowned as if in apology. “You’re purple.” 

A hushed gasp overtook the dome as they all realized what was said. Kznell took a step back in disbelief and saw the look of triumph working its way across Gwrkut’s face. “That’s not possible,” Kznell stammered, backing away.

“It’s true!” Gwrkut shouted. “The Earthman confirmed it upon his arrival. Kznell is purple!” The crowd once again broke into a raucous pandemonium, shouting for Kznell to be vaporized. The members of the delegation immediately swooped in with their raygun blasters in hand and dragged Kznell away, his screams drowned out by the excitement of the crowd. 

Briggs was in shock. That night, as he paced back and forth at the top of the Infinity Tower, he heard the song of the Martians rising in the air. This time, it was no longer gentle. The harmonies swelled and crashed like an angry wave, setting him ill at ease.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he wondered, and his question was answered by a knock on the door. Gwrkut entered with two members of his delegation following behind.

“You have been a true hero to Martian unity, Earthman Briggs,” Gwrkut said. “And for that, we extend our greatest thanks.”

“Well, hey now, I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I don’t think you understood. I didn’t ever say being purple was a bad thing.”

“Even so, it is imperative that we maintain unity in the face of division.”

Briggs scratched his head. “Well, I think maybe it’d be best if I cut my visit short. I’d like to return back to Earth.”

“But you can’t leave us,” Gwrkut replied. “You are the only one who can identify the purple Martians. I need you to continue on.” 

“But why?” Briggs asked desperately. “Why continue on?”

“Unity is a slippery thing. It takes constant diligence.”

“But you’re next in line for the throne. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Gwrkut narrowed his eyes. “Talk like that is, of course, treasonous.” The two Martians behind Gwrkut pulled out raygun blasters and held them menacingly at their sides.

“Alright now. That won’t be necessary.” Briggs stepped back, raising his arms in resignation. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Of course not. Even so, a guard will be posted at the door.” Gwrkut gave a nod to one of the Martians behind him. “In the morning, we’ll continue our tour. There is still much to learn.” Gwrkut and the delegates left, leaving Briggs alone.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he repeated to himself. “They’ll never let me leave.” Briggs's mind turned slowly as he considered his situation. “The way I see it, Gwrkut is the one keeping me here. So I just need to get rid of Gwrkut.” Briggs snapped his fingers as the outline of a plan began to form. “First, I’ll request a meeting with the king. And then…” Briggs went over the plan in his mind. It was a gamble, and he felt uneasy about meddling in Martian politics, but he couldn’t see any other way. 

The next morning, when Gwrkut arrived at the door, Briggs demanded to be taken to the king. To his surprise, Gwrkut readily agreed. Strange, Briggs thought, expecting it to take some convincing. Gwrkut was once again in a fine mood as he led them back to the dome cathedral and to a small antechamber in the back room. The king was seated in his egg pod, a vacant expression on his ancient face.

“Your lordship,” Gwrkut said, “The Earthman has requested consultation.”

The king’s head rolled slightly, and Briggs took this as his signal to speak. “Oh king, I have something I need to tell you. You see, yesterday, when I was pointing out all the purple Martians, I made a mistake. An oversight.” Briggs glanced over at Gwrkut, who was standing at attention with a vague smile on his face. “There was one other purple Martian that I failed to mention.” Briggs cleared his throat and shuffled his feet nervously. “It turns out, you see, that Gwrkut is also purple!” Briggs looked over at Gwrkut, expecting some kind of shock or reaction. But nobody in the room appeared in the least bit surprised by this revelation. “You’ll have to lock him up, right?”

“It’s very interesting you say that, Earthman Briggs,” Gwrkut said. “Just this morning, I was discussing yesterday’s events with the king, and it appears that we also made a mistake.” Briggs scrunched his brow in confusion. “In our haste to maintain unity, it seems we got everything reversed. It is not the purple Martians who represent a threat, but the green ones.”

“What now?” Briggs stammered out in shock.

“It is the green Martians who are different, who have broken our unity. All purple Martians are to be free. All green Martians are to be vaporized.”

“But…” Briggs tried to formulate a reply but was at a loss for words. Gwrkut had turned his whole plan upside down. 

“And here I was, fully prepared to sacrifice myself for the sake of unity,” Gwkut continued. “But as you said, I’m purple.” Gwrkut smiled as he led Briggs outside, where his delegation was waiting. “And by the way, in the future, it’s probably best not to discuss your plans out loud when there is a guard stationed right outside your door.” 

Of course! Briggs realized. He had been so stupid. Six months alone on his rocketship, and he had become accustomed to thinking out loud. Half the time, he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Of course, the guard had heard everything.

The delegation took off, Gwrkut keeping up the facade of genial tour guide, pointing out Martian monuments and landmarks. As before, the delegation would stop at each site, but Gwrkut would now simply stand up and declare nearby Martians as green or purple, irrespective of their actual color. The crowds would jeer and taunt as the ‘green’ Martians were hauled away by the delegates, having no grounds to dispute the claims. Nobody but Briggs could say whether Gwrkut was right or wrong, but he sat in silence, the raygun blaster poking into his side made sure of that. 

As the day became night, the hovership glided to a stop in front of the city gates. By this point, Briggs had become so dejected that he was barely paying attention, so it was quite a surprise when Gwrkut said, “Earthman Briggs, it has been a pleasure. You are now free to leave.”

“Sorry? What was that?” Briggs asked in a daze, coming slowly to attention.

“You are free to leave,” Gwrkut repeated. “Your services are no longer needed. And in fact, keeping you around could only lead to trouble.”

“How’s that now?” Briggs stammered.

“Why, you’re the only one who can dispute my claims. It’d be silly to keep you around. And as emissary of Earth, I can’t exactly lock you away without risking interplanetary hostility. You are free to return home. In fact, I encourage it.”

Briggs was shocked and wondered if this was some kind of trap, but he couldn’t deny the logic of it. Hesitantly, Briggs got up and then burst off, racing across the Martian plane towards his rocketship. As the night descended, he could hear the music from the city behind him, violent and dissonant. A cacophony of voices all fighting against each other.

“What a scary world,” Briggs exclaimed as he boarded his rocketship. “Earth could certainly learn a thing or two.”