Header Image
    Cover of Gulliver of Mars
    Science Fiction

    Gulliver of Mars

    by

    Chapter XVI opens as the protagonist takes a pivotal step in his Martian odyssey by securing passage aboard a merchant vessel. Serving as supercargo, he finds himself immersed in the rhythms of Martian life, where the chants of the rowers echo like ancient lullabies against the stillness of the canals. These chants, haunting and repetitive, deepen his sense of dislocation from Earth and sharpen his awareness of how truly alien this world has become. The capital, upon arrival, bursts with vivid contrasts—sails from distant lands flutter in strange winds, while colorful markets buzz with goods unlike anything he has seen. The atmosphere is electric, yet underneath its surface lies a society shaped by rigid hierarchies and ritualistic customs. Although the city distracts him briefly, his mission to save Heru remains central in his thoughts, pulling him forward into the heart of danger.

    The narrative turns when he meets Si, a slave girl who shares a bond with his homeland. Her tragic tale of being forced into servitude under Ar-hap adds emotional weight to the story and exposes the cruelty of Thither’s politics. Si’s willingness to help, despite her lowly status, offers a rare spark of compassion in an otherwise brutal setting. She becomes more than a guide; she is a symbol of silent rebellion. Through her, the protagonist is introduced to the porter’s wife, a woman whose modest role at the palace gate belies the strategic advantage she holds. From her lodgings, one can observe the steady stream of petitioners and guards—a perfect vantage point for someone plotting a rescue. The protagonist now finds himself closer than ever to Heru, yet the barrier of power and ceremony still looms large.

    As their plans develop, the environment changes ominously. A harsh, stifling heat descends upon the city, casting a crimson hue over the land. This sudden shift unsettles the locals, whose whispers turn to prayers as they anticipate divine punishment or cosmic upheaval. Even the elite, usually indifferent to superstition, begin to retreat behind guarded doors. The heat brings more than discomfort—it becomes a symbol of impending judgment, setting the stage for decisions that must be made quickly or not at all. Amidst this chaos, the protagonist remains steady. He refuses to see the heat as a deterrent but rather a reminder of the urgency behind his mission. In his mind, saving Heru is no longer just about love or honor; it is about defying fate itself.

    With Si’s help, he prepares for his next move. Their connection grows stronger, not romantically, but in mutual understanding of what it means to resist. Si offers information, distraction, and guidance, while the protagonist brings courage and clarity. Together, they form an unlikely team—each driven by past wounds and future hopes. Their shared defiance gives shape to a plan, but nothing is guaranteed. Around them, the city trembles under the weight of its own rituals, and the sky burns red like a warning. Even so, there is no turning back. The journey has narrowed to a single point: reaching Heru before the city—and perhaps the entire Martian world—collapses under the pressure of its own myths.

    These developments invite deeper reflection on how loyalty and courage often arise in unexpected places. Si, though broken by circumstance, refuses to yield to the cruelty of her captors. The protagonist, although far from home, embraces a cause larger than himself. The intensity of the moment strips away doubt and hesitation. As the chapter ends, there’s a quiet clarity in their purpose. The red sky may signal the end for many, but for them, it marks the beginning of a decisive stand. That clarity—borne of purpose, forged in adversity—offers a rare peace amid the coming storm.

    Quotes

    FAQs

    Note