I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter, but hey, perhaps this one is more appropriate. Anonymous Void has just released the latest story in our series, Titanomachy, yesterday. Head on over and let him know what you think of it.
The Council of Five were the representatives of the five major regions of Mars. Each was elected to be a leader, a representative of their people. Their influence was silent, yet all-encompassing. Very little occurred that they did not know about. Very little occurred without a decision coming from them that required action.
R'yon stood before these powerful Martians. The situation of H'ronmeer's Curse had gotten loose from Dea'vars and was spreading all across the red planet. What had started as a trickle of reports was now a deafening roar, and they were only increasing. Things were getting worse.
As if to highlight this, there was an image displayed between R'yon and the Council of Five. The image was of a medical facility raging with flames. The fires were bursting out of broken windows, consuming it whole. Such a scene hadn't been seen on Mars in centuries. Just the sight of the fire had caused wide-spread panic and fear. An evacuation order had demanded all nearby Martians to flee. The fire had fortunately been contained to that location, but the remains were only ash now.
This image was the first medical facility to experience victims of H'ronmeer's Curse. Unfortunately, there were more images of such scenes. It was unknown how the fires started, but anyone that was inside were considered deceased. The burnt remains were frightening mausoleums to just how terrifying this Curse had become.
"I have it on good authority that all whom were inside this facility are dead," R'yon reported to the Council. "The head physician, Dr. Loon'de'gaard, is also considered to be deceased, as well as his staff. It has been reported to me that they fell victim to H'ronmeer's Curse shortly before this scene occurred."
"How horrible," one of the representatives gasped.
"Surely we are able to take measures against this Curse by now," another representative pressed.
R'yon shook his head. "At this time, no such cure has been discovered. Dr. Loon'de'gaard and his staff were at the forefront of this pandemic, and now we have lost much of the research they had accumulated. An investigation into the arson is pending in regards to the hospital, but it would be best to assume that anything of use will not be uncovered."
The members of the Council shifted in their seats. They were all seated behind a half-circle table, elevated so that they could look down on whomever was speaking to them. The only light source within the councilroom was the projector that illuminated the image of the burning medical facility.
"How widespread has this become?" the acknowledged leader of this council then questioned.
"Every major city has reported their largest medical facility has suffered such a fate. H'ronmeer's Curse has taken over Mars with little to indicate that it is slowing down," R'yon reported. "It has also been brought to my attention that the Curse is also evolving. The period between incubation and fatality has shortened considerably. It is taking only a number of hours from the time a victim is diagnosed before they expire. If left to continue at this pace, there are...there are projections that duration will shorten even more."
"Are you saying that we cannot stop this Curse?" the first representative demanded.
"At this time, we are unable to stop it."
"This is highly concerning," the lead councilmember murmured. "We cannot, at this time, do nothing. Yet, we do not have any manner in which to fight off this plague."
"Sometimes drastic measures are necessary," another councilmember said. "Even if they are detestable."
"What are you saying we should do?" the second councilmember questioned.
"That there is not much we can do for the infected. They are doomed to die within hours of diagnosis, perhaps shorter. Why must we provide resources that are not going to be of any use?"
"These are living people! We cannot simply write them off because we do not have an effective course of action!"
"But what can we do?" the last member of the council asked. "We cannot do nothing. Our people need to see unity from us. They need to see that we are not just hiding away while they suffer."
"They certainly cannot see that we are allowing them to die because we do not know how to save them," the second councilmember grumbled.
"It won't be too long before Mars is burning from this Curse," the lead councilmember said. "Such a blaze would invoke the Burning, as distant and mysterious as that is. We cannot allow the people to feel as if that is a distinct possibility."
"What action can be taken when we are helpless to attack the problem head on?"
There was silence in the chamber, though it was clear the attention was firmly on the lead councilmember. R'yon and the other councilmembers looked at the lone Martian as he thought. Such pressure had to be incredible, R'yon thought.
"We need to separate those that are infected from those that are not," the lead councilmember declared then. "Surely we have some test available that can detect this disease."
"We are developing such a test," R'yon acknowledged. In actuality, there was no such available test. Dr. Loon'de'gaard hadn't been able to develop one, but he had given his research to the Manhunter Commander Kris'to'fer, who was having his people look over it. Hopefully they could devise a test from those notes.
"Then put the test into use as soon as possible," the lead councilmember ordered. "For those that are carriers, they will be allowed to return to their homes and quarantine.
"For those that are uninfected, they will be escorted to the space ports and boarded."
Boarded? R'yon had a sneaking suspicion of what was being decided, but he couldn't know for certain without clarification. "Why do we want to have the healthy Martians boarded?" he asked.
"There is little point in being coy. Those who are infected are going to die," the lead councilmember answered. "There is little we can do for them. For those we can save, it is best to remove them from the possibility of infection. The healthy Martians will be abandoning Mars while this plague burns itself out."
R'yon's mouth dropped open as he gaped at the Council. The other members of the Council didn't even look the least bit perturbed by this course of action, all nodding their affirmation before turning their attention to the gobsmacked government official.
"But…that's sentencing thousands, millions of people to die!" he protested.
"What other choice do we have?" the fourth councilmember responded. "Drastic measures are all that we have at our disposal. Unless you can find a cure in the next few hours, then Mars will have to weather this Curse."
"Where will we go? Where can we go?"
"There is a planet that may be of use," the fifth councilmember said. "Terra Firma is the most logical site for a short term colony. We may need to ward off the local populations, but that is feasible. After all, the pole dwellers have been interested in Terra Firma for centuries now. If they have been able to survive there, so can we."
"It'll only be a short duration as well," the lead councilmember added. "Mars is our home and we do not plan to give it up needlessly. Once it is certain H'ronmeer's Curse has abated, we can and will return and restart anew. Our people have done so after previous curses, so this time will be no different.
"Now, return to Dea'vars, Official R'yon, and begin the preparations."
"The latest order in the ongoing battle against H'ronmeer's Curse has shocked the citizens of Mars. An evacuation order has been issued by the Council of Five for the entire populous, pending testing of each and every Martian. All Martians are expected to be tested prior to departure."
The news segment was as shocking as it was devastating.
"Only Martians found to be clear of any sign or symptom of H'ronmeer's Curse will be allowed to evacuate. Evacuation checkpoints can be found at each spaceport."
Evacuation. Had it really come to this? Da'vizz couldn't help himself as he turned off the telecommunicator. He didn't want to listen to any more. It was just a reminder of how much he and his fellow Manhunters had failed in regards to stopping the Curse.
The Manhunter was currently in the hovercar, having left the precinct some time ago. The telecommunicator had turned on automatically to announce the Council of Five's evacuation. As a dutiful civil servant, he had listened and nearly had to pull over so that his initial shock didn't cause him to crash.
Da'vizz wasn't certain how widespread H'ronmeer's Curse was, only that it was intensifying in Dea'vars. If this order was any indication, then it was far more widespread than he had known. Why else order it? No doubt the Manhunters would be called in to ensure the order was handled in a timely and orderly manner.
He couldn't help but sigh. Considering how drastic the order was, he could only imagine the pending panic that would set in. The public knew of the Curse, but perhaps not the extent of it. Now they would no doubt think of it in the worst case scenario. The spaceports were about to be assailed by frightened civilians.
Until he received the order to head to his designated position, Da'vizz wanted to follow up on a lead, as little as it would help. He was still on assignment until told otherwise. With J'onn indisposed of, he would need to do the follow up.
The hover vehicle began to slow down. Peering through the windshield, the officer looked up at the looming structure of the University.
"The latest order in the ongoing battle against H'ronmeer's Curse has shocked the citizens of Mars. An evacuation order has been issued by the Council of Five for the entire populous, pending testing of each and every Martian. All Martians are expected to be tested prior to departure."
Commander Kris'to'fer glared at his computer terminal, the source of the broadcast. Those fools. Those isolated, self-righteous fools.
The Manhunter Commander had known of a meeting occurring between the Dea'vars government representative and the Council of Five. It was perhaps a meeting long in the making as the planet's leading representatives had been absent since the start of H'ronmeer's Curse. Now they were coming in as if they were Mars' saviors, taking over a situation they probably only read about and never truly experienced.
Whatever the representative for Dea'vars reported, it clearly caused this evacuation order. Already, Commander Kris'to'fer felt his head beginning to pound. The logistics were going to be a nightmare. Security was going to be needed to ensure the entire process happened in an orderly fashion. His precinct, along with all of the other Manhunter precincts should have been notified with enough time to arrange the process rather than learning it over a mass broadcast.
It was hard not to take that personally. It was as if the Council of Five was announcing the low level of faith they had in the very people appointed to carry out their orders and laws. It was insulting. If it weren't for his oath of service, Commander Kris'to'fer was highly tempted to let the Council work on the logistics themselves. Afterall, they were wise and all-knowing.
Yet, his duty would not let him be so petty. So he would be pulling as many Manhunters as he could and assign them to Dea'vars' spaceport, if only to make certain a wave of frightened civilians didn't try to force their way in.
Reaching out with his mind, he created a link with the dispatcher. "Dispatcher, this is Commander Kris'to'fer. I want you to broadcast a bulletin for all available and off-duty Manhunters to go to the spaceport and form a perimeter. I will be along shortly to coordinate our efforts in regard to the Council of Five's evacuation order."
"Order acknowledged and confirmed," the dispatch officer responded.
A sigh left Commander Kris'to'fer lips, a rather foreign expression for him. Things were about to become very active and quickly. He did wonder though, just how were they going to test the local population. The broadcast indicated they would have a means of doing so.
He had a feeling that was also going to be left up to him to figure out.
"Only Martians found to be clear of any sign or symptom of H'ronmeer's Curse will be allowed to evacuate. Evacuation checkpoints can be found at each spaceport."
Lon'fon grimaced as she heard the broadcast. She could only imagine just how crazy things were about to become.
As if to prove this, the familiar mind of the dispatcher filled her own. "Attention all active and off-duty personnel. Report to Dea'vars spaceport as soon as possible. Further instructions will be relayed once there."
Yep, this shouldn't have been surprising. Though she hadn't done much work on the pandemic case, she had been following along through J'onzz and Da'vizz. They were the leads and they had worked the case hard—but unfortunately they hadn't been able to make much headway from what she had seen.
And now the two were hardly on speaking terms. She had witnessed their argument, even if it had been conducted privately with telepathic means. One only needed to look at their expressions and body language to know they were arguing. While she didn't know what the reason for it was, she had no doubt it was on Da'vizz. J'onzz was not one to get into arguments often. That's how she saw things anyways.
Now though, J'onzz had other problems. The poor guy, having to watch his entire family die in front of him. She couldn't imagine what that was like and she didn't really want to. It terrified her to think of going home to her family, only to watch her loved ones burn up before her eyes. Just the thought was ghastly.
Lon'fon wasn't a Manhunter, just support staff. She would not be required to report to the spaceport, not that she would be of much use. Instead, she felt she was needed here. She had a colleague that could use some comforting in this dark time. It was about time she went to give him a helping hand.
J'onn was aware of when the door opened. He didn't pay much attention to whoever entered. He never did. No doubt it was someone coming to provide him some sort of sustenance.
He was proven wrong when Lon'fon appeared in front of him.
The forensic technician stood in front of him, gazing at him with sympathy. Then she moved to take a seat next to him. J'onn didn't say a word. He didn't follow her with his eyes. He was just aware of what she was doing.
"I know you're going through a…tough time," Lon'fon said, breaking the silence between them. "Gods, there's no words that fully express what you are going through."
J'onn remained silent.
"Unfortunately, I feel you need to know what is going on. The world hasn't stopped and you're needed more than ever now."
"The world can forget about me."
Lon'fon didn't seem shocked by that statement. She just stared at him, a grimace on her face. It was almost as if she expected such a response from him. Maybe she held more empathetic abilities than he had been aware of. "No one is ever truly forgotten, and you are still here to influence things," she countered.
"You overestimate my influence," he said dully.
"Then you will hear what needs to be said regardless." There was a pause as Lon'fon let her words sink in. That didn't really, but J'onn didn't bother to reply. "The Council of Five has ordered a planet-wide evacuation of non-infected Martians."
J'onn just numbly nodded. It seemed H'ronmeer's Curse was worse than any of them had imagined. And he thought he could have stopped it. No, he had been sorely mistaken and his family had paid the price for such hubris.
"At some point, we will be needed at the spaceport. Security will be needed, or we'll be assigned to accompany the refugees," Lon'fon continued.
"I will not be going."
Silence fell upon them, though it was mostly due to how stunned Lon'fon must have felt. There was an incredulous look on her face, one that J'onn saw out of the corner of his eyes. "What…what do you mean?" she stammered.
"I will not be going," J'onn reiterated. "There is nothing for me. My family is dead. There is no point in me leaving. I will stay here until I too can be reunited with them."
"You cannot be serious?!"
Finally, the male Martian turned his head and regarded his co-worker. Lon'fon was clearly distraught by his intentions. "I am," he confirmed. "My family was my world, my life. Now that they are gone, what is there left for me? I will no longer hear the laughter of my children; I will no longer feel the touch of my wife. I will never be able to touch their minds and feel their love for me and I them. I am certain there are others that deserve whatever spot may be planned for me on the ships. Space will be limited."
After a few moments, Lon'fon's expression hardened. "That is enough, J'onn J'onzz. I know you have taken a heavy blow, but you cannot ignore the world and its suffering. You are needed; it is your duty as a Manhunter to do what is asked of you. Or is that oath merely words?"
"I am not the man you think I am," he countered. He was starting to feel annoyed that this acquaintance of his was pressing him for action. Why was he needed when there were other, more capable men? He had nothing left in him that would be of use to others. Let someone else do what needed to be done. He was only discarded refuse at this time.
"You're doing your best to prove that." Lon'fon glanced at something beyond J'onn's shoulder. "You haven't eaten, have you." That had not been a question.
"I have not," he answered anyways.
"When is the last time you have moved? Or have you been sitting here ever since you arrived?"
He didn't answer this time, which was an answer in itself. Lon'fon did not like that answer. "You need to be caring for yourself, J'onn," she reprimanded. She then stood up and stood in front of him. "Stand up."
"I do not wish to."
"I do not care. Stand up."
"No."
"If you do not stand on your own, I will have two Manhunters come in and make you. It is your choice. Now stand up. We are going for a walk. I do not care if we do not speak, but you will do something for your betterment."
J'onn wanted nothing more than to remain sitting, but he could feel the growing irritation in Lon'fon. He knew she would do as she said if he did not cooperate. A simple walk would not change matters, but at the very least it would get the woman off of his back so he could return to his grief unimpeded. With a sigh, he stood up, the blanket he had been given at his domicile still draped over his shoulders. There was a slump in his posture, but he found he did not care.
"Now, follow me."
Lon'fon then led him to the door, the two of them leaving the room. J'onn was faintly aware that they were at the precinct. He hadn't realized he had been brought here until now. Numbly, he followed his co-worker down a corridor. He didn't know where she was taking him, and he hardly cared. If she had something planned, it would prove ineffective, of that he was certain.
Their journey took them around the precinct, seemingly without a destination. Faintly, J'onn wondered if that was the point. Maybe there wasn't some planned destination and Lon'fon just wanted him to mobilize and do something other than remain immobile. Perhaps that was her intention.
However, as they were passing by the area with the holding cells, a door opened to reveal a Manhunter with a Martian in tow. J'onn merely glanced at the captive and recognized the sigil of the priesthood on their chest. Faintly, he wondered why a priest was being kept here before he recalled the number of priests that had been arrested due to their violation of the local government's cease-and-desist order. This priest must have been caught up in the arrests.
"Officer J'onzz," the priest immediately recognized him, his attention solely on the Manhunter. "I do not believe we have cross paths before."
"I do not believe we have, no," J'onn agreed, responding more out of politeness than anything else.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Priest V'ald'imir."
J'onn only nodded his acknowledgement.
"It saddens me to have heard of your misfortune. I would like to express my condolences."
"Thank you."
Not seeing any other reason to stay there, J'onn resumed his walk, Lon'fon keeping to his side. They had only taken a few steps before Priest V'ald'imir called out to them from behind.
"I hope you realize the appropriateness of the punishment you are undergoing."
That caused J'onn to stop in place, even as the accompanying Manhunter sternly warned the priest, "You would do best to leave and not continue this."
"This Manhunter tried to disrupt our holy duty. For that, he paid the price for his intervention," the priest continued. "His family's demise was divine justice for his actions."
"That's enough from you!"
Something exploded within J'onn. It was not a spark of emotion, but an inferno. Anger flooded his being and he spun around, a look of outrage on his face. Priest V'ald'imir was just staring at him, a self-righteous look on his face.
"J'onn," Lon'fon spoke warningly. She was trying to indicate he should not act rashly.
He ignored her.
"You should leave," J'onn said in a low, warning tone.
"I will, as soon as I am certain that you understand the gravity of your—"
J'onn couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand to hear one more word. His arms raised up, the blanket draped over his shoulders falling off and down to the floor, pooling at his feet. His arms wobbled as he held them up before they erupted into a swarm of tentacles. The tentacles swept over Priest V'ald'imir, the man and the nearby Manhunter crying out in surprise. The tentacles wrapped around the priest's body, his arms, and legs, even one around his neck. The nearby Manhunter was shoved to one side by the rushing appendages.
J'onn then swung the priest off of the floor and slammed him against a wall. A cry of surprise and pain came from his captive.
In the next instance, he was right in front of the priest. "Do not speak ill of my family," he growled lowly. His tentacle appendages tightened their holds, squeezing the man as he began to gag. His teeth were bared, making him looking like a furious animal. "Whatever you may think of me, I will not stand for any insults directed at my family. Do you understand me?!"
Suddenly, the Manhunter was right next to J'onn, a hand grabbing onto his shoulder. "Officer J'onzz, you need to release him," he said urgently. On his opposite side, Lon'fon was doing the same. "Please, for your own good."
The anger he felt was burning still, but the more rational side of J'onn knew he had acted rashly and overstepped himself. Abruptly, he released his hold on the priest and stepped away, the tentacles retracted back to him, combining with each other until his arms were whole once more.
Lon'fon then pulled him away, leading him from the scene. "I want charges pressed!" Priest V'ald'imir cried out. "That man assaulted me!"
"You are lucky that is all that happened," the Manhunter retorted. "Now, you can either leave peacefully and forget this ever happened, or I can throw you back into the holding cell. I'll be certain to let the other Manhunters know what you said to Officer J'onzz. They will be less receptive than I am to your venom."
Da'vizz was unfamiliar with the layout of Dea'vars' university. J'onn had handled this part of the investigation whenever they came here, something the Manhunter was regretting. He had been quite content to take a break as his partner did the heavy lifting here. Any offers for assistance had been more for show than actual intent.
Fortunately, he was a Martian that could become invisible and he took advantage of that. With all the tension that existed between society's institutions, there didn't need to be any added between the Manhunters and the University. Already their presence was restricted thanks to the administrators here, so his arrival would not be well-accepted.
He snuck through the campus, the staff and the student body oblivious to his presence. There weren't many he encountered, which he found odd, but what did he know of how the University operated. Eventually, he found himself in a room that held employee records, which was his destination.
The record room had initially been locked, but Da'vizz just phased his way through. That was perhaps not a good thing for the University if just anyone could slip into any room on their campus, he thought in retrospect. Just anyone could have entered this room should they wish. It was fortunate that Da'vizz was a respectable officer and had been assigned to the Manhunters instead of falling into a less reputable group.
The first resistance he faced was at the lone computer terminal here. It required a username and password for access. That obstacle didn't last as Da'vizz entered an override. All computer software had a backdoor for Manhunters to access in the event there was a crime and they needed access to a nearby computer. It also ensured they couldn't be kept out of any sensitive materials that may be relevant to a case. One could say Da'vizz's use of it was an abuse of his position, but it was becoming quite clear that just about every party involved with H'ronmeer's Curse was too busy watching out for their own interest.
Seated in a chair at the terminal, Da'vizz saw his override work as expected. He then immediately accessed employee records and went on a search for a specific employee: Th'mas. He was the first victim of the Curse, and his background had sadly not been investigated thoroughly. That was a blind spot he intended on rectifying.
There was a sense of wrongness as he did this. After all, he had snuck into this room, bypassing every security measure that had been in place, as paltry as they had been. It was like he was a thief sneaking around in the night. Even the lighting in the room was dim, creating an ambiance of clandestine activity.
He needed to remind himself what he was doing was part of his job and he wasn't doing anything unbecoming of his position.
The program with the records appeared and the search for Th'mas has recovered his employment file. Accessing it, Da'vizz found much the same information that had been uncovered during their background check into the young man. There was his residence address, his work history, employment history with the University, and so on.
A thought occurred to Da'vizz. He didn't recall seeing much about Th'mas' employment history during the initial background check. That seemed unusual because the technicians back at the precinct were quite thorough.
Accessing the employment history, he saw that Th'mas had been a research assistance for a couple of the professors. Scanning the names, he didn't see the recently deceased Q'im'bly, Gon'a'gal, or F'yers. He had almost expected a connection there.
However, just because he didn't see their names didn't mean he didn't see one he did recognize. In fact, he had to blink his eyes and re-read the name a couple more times to make certain he wasn't misreading it at all.
J'onzz.
Th'mas had worked for Professor J'onzz? In fact, that was the last professor he had assisted before his untimely demise. J'onn had never mentioned his brother was connected to Th'mas. Did he know and just not say anything? Or did he not know at all?
Considering everything that had happened recently, Da'vizz suspected that J'onn did know and just hadn't said anything about it. He had been covering for his brother's outlandish research as of late, so why not this? Why not something that would further connect his brother to this case?
Yet…he knew J'onn was not one to overlook such connections. It was what made him a good investigator. The question then became would J'onn actually investigate his own family if he believed they were involved in something nefarious?
That was also assuming there was something nefarious Professor J'onzz was involved in. His research indicated as much, but Da'vizz had to begrudgingly admit there was nothing connecting Professore J'onzz to H'ronmeer's Curse aside from him naming it as such and then the research he had performed on it after a request was made for his assistance.
Fingers tapped on the touchscreen keyboard and Da'vizz brought up the employment history of Professor Ma'alefa'ak J'onzz. Unlike Th'mas, J'onzz's history was more extensive. That was to be expected since J'onzz had been a part of the academic field for many years now. However, one thing that he found troubling was the number of research assistants he had over his tenure. There seemed to be quite a long list as each assistant didn't last longer than a school semester. In fact, the last one J'onzz had as an assistant was Th'mas. A replacement had not been acquired…
A frown appeared on Da'vizz's face. Though Th'mas was the last recorded assistant, there was one more entry after him. Accessing it, he received a message in Martian symbols.
YOU ARE LATE
Suddenly, something grabbed onto his shoulder, a hand, Da'vizz realized, a moment later. He was then spun to one side before a thick cloud was sprayed into his face.
Instantly, Da'vizz began coughing and gagging. What…what had that been?! He felt as if small grains of sand had pelted his face when the gas had assaulted him. His coughing began to soften, but that wasn't due to a conscious effort on his part. No, in fact, he strongly felt the urge to continue coughing, but he found he could not…
And then he stopped entirely, including being able to move.
"I wasn't expecting you to reach this point," a voice stated. Da'vizz tried to move his eyes, but he found he could not. He couldn't do much of anything as he was paralyzed where he sat.
A figure moved into his sight, but due to the dim lighting, he couldn't make out much detail. He strained to see if he couldn't see the figure's face. He needed to make an identification.
There was a flash of light off the metal surface of a blade. Da'vizz mentally froze upon seeing it. Realization was dawning on him just who this person was and what they had been doing at the University as of late.
"However, you can be of assistance to me still. I was in need of one last message and here you are."
The knife moved, and Da'vizz felt his throat be slashed wide open.