The telecommunication device was on, programmed for the local news station. There was no reason for it to have a screen to show the reporter as the device relayed telepathic thoughts. Such devices were strategically placed throughout the Manhunter precinct so all officers and staff could listen to them. Over time, they became background noise.
For today, unfortunately, the situation they were reporting on wasn't something anyone could just ignore.
"It is the fourth day of H'ronmeer's Holy Weeks, and thus far this year's observation has been marred with a strange endemic. Last reports have number those that have fallen ill to over sixty.
"Government officials have not spoken on the matter, only to say that they are working to discover the cause of this mysterious endemic. Hospital officials have also denied comment as to the state of those infected.
"Eyewitness reports have linked the timing of those falling ill during Church services. Church officials are denying there is any link with the disease, stating it is merely a coincidence that they continue to occur.
"The pressure is beginning to mount on investigators and government officials as there are talks that this illness may be the early stages of a plague, a pandemic, or a curse. While instances of plague have occurred as far back as the last decade, the previous pandemic was approximately fifty years ago, commonly referred to as the Aspars Pandemic. The last curse was of course L'zoril's Curse over two centuries ago. While it is debated whether other curses have occurred in the interim, L'zoril's is the last confirmed one to occur.
"In regards to the illness, per eyewitness reports, the infected have reacted with increased agitation, delirium, diaphoresis, and a marking upon the forehead that resembles the sign of H'ronmeer. Some have hypothesized that the mysterious illness it the work of H'ronmeer due to the appearance of the marking. At this time, Church officials have denied this as the work of the God of Light and Life."
The silence was eerie, but perhaps it was for the best. J'onn stood silent as a statue as he watched his brother, Ma'alefa'ak staring into a microscope, switching slides and occasionally the lenses for improved viewing. The intelligent Martian had been eager to examine the samples and read the reports, a veritable treasure trove for him.
"Astounding," Ma'alefa'ak murmured as he looked away from the microscope's eyepiece, picking up a stylist and jotting down a note upon a touchscreen interface. He had been doing this every so often, making a note of what he was seeing as he examined the samples. "Truly extraordinary."
J'onn kept his silence. He was quite aware that any input by himself would only annoy his brother. It was better to maintain an environment conducive to his brother's study than to create tension. However, his own anxiety grew as he stood there, useless, waiting for some miraculous breakthrough. It was a position he was not normally in. It made him feel uncomfortable.
It was times like this he wished he had studied the sciences more carefully. Perhaps he would be of more use than a bystander if he had. Maybe he needed to remedy this lack of knowledge once this case was over.
"You have been oddly quiet, Brother," Ma'alefa'ak suddenly spoke up, startling the older Martian. The younger one turned a knob on the microscope as he made further adjustments to his viewing. "Normally you would have intruded upon my study by now."
"I was hoping to not disturb you," J'onn informed the professor. "I realize it is much too early for you to have gleaned something of significance."
"So you can learn." His brother had been leaning over his microscope, but now straightened out his posture. There was a small panel near his microscope, one that his fingers punched in a code on the touchscreen. In response, his large computer screen flashed on, revealing an image that J'onn recognized as belonging to the lens of the microscope. The slide his kin had been viewing appeared, showing a smear.
In this instance, he could pick up what looked like cells. J'onn vaguely recalled their appearance from his university studies many years ago. There were columns of these cells, the ones to the left being intact. However, the ones to the right seemed to be degraded and collapsing, distorting their normal appearance. From left to right, it appeared to be a gradient of healthy cells to damaged ones.
"What do you see, Brother?" Ma'alefa'ak asked.
"I see healthy cells which are slowly becoming damaged and degraded," he responded.
"Very good. Care to hypothesize which stage of the infection this is?"
"I cannot without seeing previous samples."
The professor stared at him. "Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected." This time, Ma'alefa'ak began touching the same button over and over. It seemed the researcher had been taking recorded images of each sample he had viewed as J'onn was treated to other slides. He saw different configurations of cells, usually ones that were healthy and then contrasted with sickly, if not dead ones. "Now that you have seen the previous samples, what can you hypothesize?"
In all honesty, J'onn didn't know. This was far beyond his knowledge, and he willingly admitted it. However, he knew what his brother was like. He had little patience for those who could not keep up with his intellect, which led to his isolation at this university. The elder Martian suspected his junior preferred the isolation.
He had to at least try, though. Hiding behind ignorance would not help him here. "I hypothesize that this disease is causing systemic organ failure over the course of time," he guessed.
"It is certainly doing that, but any disease ends that way if given the required incubation period and lack of treatment to prevent the disease process." Ma'alefa'ak turned his head to gaze at the Manhunter. "Allow me to simplify things for you: all of these samples are of the same organ."
J'onn stared up at the screen. He was in sore need of a refresher course on the sciences, much to his embarrassment. He felt as if the answer were right in front of him, but he simply could not say what it was. He had a familiarity that allowed him to at least identify rudimentary aspects, but not enough knowledge to know for certain. It was maddening.
It seemed Ma'alefa'ak was either out of patience, or was finished enjoying his intellectual torture. "The organ we are viewing is the brain. As you can see, there is cell degradation throughout the organ, which is what causes the agitation and delirium, if not the dementia."
"So this is a disease of the brain?" J'onn questioned.
"Not only, but it seems to be the primary target. The immune system responds to the foreign infectious organism, using all of its tools at its disposal. In this case, it raises the body's core temperature in an attempt to kill the organism with heat. However, this opportunistic pathogen clearly has a high threshold for temperature, so the body just continues to rise to a level in which it cannot survive."
That explained the fever that had been reported by Dr. Loon'de'gaard. It also explained the diaphoresis, or excessive sweating as the body responded to the fever by trying to cool itself down. However, J'onn had an inkling of where this was going. "Eventually, this rising temperature reaches a point where the body's fat stores are ignited, and it causes spontaneous combustion."
Ma'alefa'ak blinked his eyes in surprise. "Yes, that is a logical conclusion," he admitted. It was as if he had not considered the possibility until that moment. Either that, or he hadn't expected J'onn to make that connection so quickly. That was rather odd, if J'onn were honest. In the scientific realm, his brother was the master, not the apprentice. "Of course, the body does try to prevent this from happening."
"But it is failing as it cannot keep up with the increasing temperature."
"Correct."
"Are you aware of any bacteria or viruses that can cause such effects?"
"I am not, though that doesn't say much. We have had a few expeditions to the poles and have collected polar samples, whenever the Pole Dwellers haven't interfered of course. In the samples, we have been able to find the remains of microbes, though their purpose is unknown since they were clearly killed by the intense cold. If there were any that survived and allowed to reproduce, it's quite possible one such pathogen could emerge."
The Pole Dwellers, as Ma'alefa'ak had called them, were a different tribe of Martians. In comparison to the Martians of the Desert, or Desert Dwellers as they were snidely referred to, these Pole Dwellers were pale in comparison to the green skin of the Desert Dwellers. J'onn and Ma'alefa'ak clearly belonged to the peace-oriented Green Martians.
As for the Pole Dwellers, their numbers had diminished over the years, most likely due to their warrior culture and their perchance for war. Their aggression was their ultimate downfall as they had not been able to weather the more advanced technology of the Green Martians. Their shrinking numbers were now confined to the planet's poles at the northern and southern ends. There was clear animosity amongst their peoples as Ma'alefa'ak remark indicated. One could hear the sneer in his tone upon speaking their name.
More pressing was that there was a possible pathogen that could have been released from a polar ice sample. It was certain a lead that he could follow up on.
However, he did recall Dr. Loon'de'gaard mentioning another possible infectious agent when he had been at the hospital last. "One of the physicians monitoring the situation mentioned looking into prions," J'onn mentioned.
Ma'alefa'ak paused as he considered this. "That's an intriguing avenue of investigation," he admitted. "There are species of prions that have been known to attack white and gray matter. It would be difficult to identify them as they are measured in microns. However, if we compare the damage of known prion origin to the brain tissue samples we have of this unknown pathogen, we could find similarities that could confirm them."
That seemed promising. "I will see about obtaining more samples for you," J'onn said.
"Fresh ones that I can experiment on myself would be much appreciated." His brother paused, as if considering his next words. "Is there anything else in your investigation that you have uncovered?"
"Not much, I am afraid," the Manhunter responded. "Circumstantial evidence at most."
"What sort of circumstantial evidence?"
It wasn't very often that Ma'alefa'ak expressed any interest in J'onn's work. Seeing as this was the most civil conversation they have had in quite some time, he was reluctant to end it as it usually did. "Many of those who have fallen ill have done so during the religious sermons."
"Many, hmm? Are the masses finally becoming too sick for those sanctimonious lectures?"
It didn't need to be said that an academic like Ma'alefa'ak would look down his nose at the Church. The two were antithetical to each other, bordering on hostility. Ma'alefa'ak had vocalized his displeasure with them, calling them outdated in milder rants to more colorful terminology at his most irritated.
"There does seem to be a commonality when the victims fall ill," J'onn said then. "It is usually at the time of the Melding of Minds."
"Ah, their most precious treasure." Ma'alefa'ak turned away to continue with his research. "You would be good to not mention that to them. You may cause them to swallow their tongues in outrage."
"It may have been brought up already."
His brother paused before returning his attention back to his elder. "You've already informed them of this?"
J'onn nodded his confirmation. "As you suggested, they did not take it well."
"I would expect not. This Melding of Minds is their only claim to power now. By gatekeeping it, they maintain a foothold of relevance."
"You make it sound as if they restrict access to the Great Mind."
"Do they not? How many times have you accessed the Great Mind when not in religious observance, Brother?"
J'onn paused. He had to admit, the only time he had done so was when given permission by a priest and only when he attended a sermon. It hadn't occurred to him that he could access the Great Mind when not present during a religious observation.
His brother picked up on this quickly. "They may call it the Great Mind, make it out to be this religious experience only they can permit, but it is nothing more than a scam."
"How do you mean?" he couldn't help but ask.
"I studied this Great Mind once." By now, Ma'alefa'ak was looking into the eyepiece of his microscope once more. "There is no unified Great Mind. My research showed it was a gathering of psionic energy. Every time a Martian uses telepathy, which is practically every second of every day, psionic energy is created and diffused. This energy ultimately gathers together on a plain I've yet to access, combining with more and more energy until it has achieved perpetuity. The Church learned of this eons ago and claimed it was a gathering of all Martians, past, present, and future, and give small access to it when convenient."
"It does give off the impression of a meeting of such people," J'onn pointed out.
Ma'alefa'ak snorted. "Touching your mind to it grants a momentary rush of euphoria, nothing more. This gives the impression that you telepaths are having some spiritual moment when you're doing nothing more than enjoying a psychic drug."
J'onn found it difficult to argue his brother's claim. If the Great Mind was indeed a collection of psychic energy, then exposing oneself to it would give rise to that euphoria he felt whenever he performed the Melding of Minds rite. As a Manhunter, he had come across areas that administered illicit psychotropic drugs. It was said the effects were similar.
That his brother would look into this was surprising. After all, he seemed to hold a grudge against all Martians that could use telepathy, which was all of them. Why he would research a topic involved with telepathy was strange.
"I suppose you presented your findings," he spoke after a moment.
"I did."
"It did not go well, I take it."
"Of course not. My findings represented a threat to the Church's power, and the University is dominated by miscreants that cower in the presence of political pressure. My research was taken from me and sealed away. It will never see the light of day."
J'onn wasn't certain how to feel about this. His brother's view on the Great Mind was an entirely scientific look at it, which was par for the course with him. On an intellectual level, he could find himself agreeing with him. He had experienced the Melding of Mind for quite some time and knew the experience was quite overwhelming in the beginning. Years of practice had allowed him to experience it with less feedback; yet, he felt as if he had touched something far beyond him even after all the time that had passed.
Perhaps the most alarming part of this was the fact such research was sealed away. Knowledge was considered priceless in Martian culture, or so J'onn believed. That any knowledge, a different perspective, a different interpretation, could be hidden from the general public was startling. It opened up the possibility that there were other subjects and research that had been confiscated without anyone being the wiser. Ma'alefa'ak had never mentioned this happening until now.
"Has this ever happened to you before? Or are you aware of other instances where this has occurred?" the Manhunter couldn't help but ask.
"That is the only research of mine that is forbidden," Ma'alefa'ak answered him. "For a time, there was a period of time that would occur that prevented my publication, no doubt to ensure I didn't release anything considered inflammatory, nor hinting at my conclusion over the Great Mind. I'm certain there are other such research topics, but I have no proof of them. All it takes is for the offending publication to be deleted and no one would be the wiser save for the authors and the authorities."
"I'm sorry that has happened to you. I wish I had known."
"So you could have prevented it? Poor J'onn J'onzz," his brother responded mockingly. "You are just as much a part of that system, the man that upholds the status quo. It could have been you that removed my research in the name of the law. And you would have done it, even if you were apologetic."
"I do not believe that is a fair assessment of me."
"Yet, true." Ma'alefa'ak turned his head to gaze at him. "The truth is rarely palatable."
"Then perhaps you do not really know me," J'onn countered.
"We hardly speak, my dear brother. If it were not for this case and your lack of success, would you have come to me? I think not."
It had been some time since the older Martian had felt shame, but he certainly felt it. It was true, he had limited contact with his own sibling. In fact, he had been reluctant to come speak to him due to their past history. It was incumbent on him to have tried to build a better relationship and he had certainly failed in this regard. "I have committed a grave injustice upon you," he eventually said. "I hope you can forgive me."
"Do you hear me complaining?" The younger Martian shrugged his shoulders. "I have come to enjoy the solitude. It is a gift that is always giving."
"I wish to correct this situation, if you would allow me."
"Correct? Intriguing. What would you have in mind?"
"Come with me and reunite with my family. M'yri'ah is a fine cook and would not mind your addition."
Ma'alefa'ak actually paused. "M'yri'ah," he murmured faintly. He seemed to be lost in thought at that moment before he shook himself out of the daze. Then he said more forcefully, "Is that the best you can offer?"
"They are what I most cherish," J'onn calmly told him. "And I invite you to experience it with me."
Ma'alefa'ak continued to stare at him, seemingly uncertain as to how to respond. He didn't as an image appeared on the screen of his computer, an alert beeping, which drew his and J'onn's attention to it.
"Oh? What is this now?" Ma'alefa'ak inquired.
There was a small gathering of media personnel before Priest He'mor. Such an occasion had been short notice, but it was incumbent upon him to help calm the masses as they were rocked by the plague that was attacking the very institute that guided them through their lives. If there was ever a time for the people of Mars to come together in unity, it was now, with the help of their spiritual advisers.
He had approached the church elders to inform them of his talks with the Manhunters, telling them of what had been discovered and what was still unknown. He urged them that action was needed if they were going to save the poor frightened souls of Mars.
They had agreed wholeheartedly, and thus this press conference had been hastily put together.
"Greetings," the priest started, staring upon the gathered media members. "As you have known, there has been the presence of an unknown pestilence infecting our society at a time where we gather to pay homage to H'ronmeer, the God of Light and Life. We of the Church wish to extend our condolences and offer our prayers for those that are in need of them in this grave time.
"The Church has been in contact with the investigative team that is trying to get to the bottom of this plague, and we wish to continue supporting them in this great endeavor they undertake. I know, many of you are frightened. Many wish to know how this is happening and why it is continuing to happen.
"Like with all things, these answers come from the Church."
He'mor saw the press members glance to each other, clearly in confusion. "This mysterious illness that ails us, this curse during H'ronmeer's Holy Week, is a direct consequence of poor observation to our Gods. The Manhunters themselves have indicated as much. Many have spurned the Church of late, giving only the minimum patronage to deities that deserve far more of us. This curse is H'ronmeer displaying his displeasure with each and every one of us.
"Look within yourselves. Can any one of us say we have given our utmost devotion to the Gods? How many of us have not attended a sermon because we have 'better things to do,' or prefer to keep counsel in the privacy of our homes? Long have the pews in the Church lay empty until our holiest of times is upon us. That isn't proper gratitude nor respect, not after every blessing the Gods have bestowed upon us. All of us can do better and we must. This curse will not end until we all come together and show H'ronmeer that we are grateful for the life he has bestowed upon us.
"Many of you have performed your religious obligation thus far. For that, I applaud your efforts. However, more is being asked of us. All of us who call themselves a Martian must do more. Greater participation, greater observance will show H'ronmeer that we have received his message loud and clear. Then, and only then, will he allow this curse to subside.
"Seeing as this is a time of utmost importance, every church and cathedral will make accommodations for those who wish to be saved. H'ronmeer will see who is dedicated and who isn't. Please, for all of us, for those who are suffering, and for those who have yet to suffer, I plead with you to help and do your part in ending this tragic and disheartening time."
There, that should have gotten his point across. He watched as the press made their records, the cameras that had been set up broadcasting his image and speech to the world.
If there was one way forward, it was through the Church. Only they could deliver the people of Mars from the wrath of their God. He'mor had gotten the message out, and now it was up to the people of Mars to answer his call.
Together, they would beat this, using their greatest weapon available: complete and utter devotion to H'ronmeer.
J'onn felt incensed. Irritated was also an adequate descriptor. He hadn't expected Priest He'mor to make the announcement he had had. A simple speculation had been twisted and contorted to support the priest's interest, and thus the Church, when they were ground zero for what He'mor had called a curse.
And now there was panic.
The Manhunter did his best to remain stoic, standing at attention in Commander Kris'to'fer's office with Da'vizz. The commander had ordered their presence within moments of the unexpected press conference, such as it was. J'onn did not need to be a telepath to know that his commanding officer was not pleased by this development.
It was one thing for the media to speculate; it was something else entirely for a prominent institution to make a world-wide declaration.
"I want an explanation," Commander Kris'to'fer spoke softly, though his tone did little to hide his ire. "I want an explanation as to how that priest came to the conclusion that he did. Whatever calm we had is no longer present. I have been inundated with frantic calls for updates on the investigation and what is being done to stop this…curse." The disgust that dripped from that last word was palpable.
J'onn spared a glance to his partner, who looked as if he were doing his best impression of a statue. It was quite clear that Da'vizz did not wish to explain this turn of events. As usual, it was left to J'onn.
He wasn't especially thrilled by that, for the record.
"We spoke to Priest He'mor recently," the Manhunter explained. "We had been trying to solidify a commonality between all of the case, and I believe we have done so."
"And what is this commonality?"
"Each person who fell ill did so during the Melding of Minds. In fact, Da'vizz and I were present at H'ronmeer's Cathedral and witnessed this firsthand. They were commencing with the rite when four of the worshipers fell to the floor and began displaying the symptoms. We have confirmed with other church officials that those who fell ill in their churches had done so at the same portion of the sermon."
"That sounds as if you suspect the Church of H'ronmeer is behind this," the commander said with suspicion in his voice.
"I do not believe they are behind this, but I do believe they are not helping to stem the spread of this disease," J'onn was quick to respond. He did not need his superior to think that he believed the Church was behind this newly-named curse. If his commander's sympathies leaned in the direction of the Church, there would be reprecusions. "When we suggested that this rite be limited, Priest He'mor was aghast at the thought. He was quite insistent no rite be removed during the Holy Week."
Commander Kris'to'fer stared at the Manhunter. "Then it would seem the Church is trying to spin this crisis in their favor. That is rather disappointing to learn. Because of this announcement of theirs, we are being flooded with concerned citizens. There's a city-wide panic."
Indeed. When J'onn had returned to his precinct, he had seen a large crowd of frightened civilians, all of whom were clamoring for information. They wanted to know how to protect themselves, what was being done to end this curse, and so forth. The lack of information was only riling them up more.
The commanding Martian sighed then. "Tell me what other progress you've made. What have we learned of this illness?"
"According to Dr. Loon'de'gaard, they have eliminated it as a bacterial or viral infection. They are looking into other sources."
Commander Kris'to'fer frowned. "They haven't identified a biological agent?"
"They have not."
"Yet, you've determined that this illness occurs during a religious rite." His frown deepened. "What sort of infectious agent is triggered in such a fashion?"
"I do not know," J'onn admitted. "But the Melding of Minds does seem to be the trigger."
"It is possible that it could be a rebuke from H'ronmeer," Da'vizz supplied, finally joining the conversation.
"Only a zealot would make that connection, Officer," Commander Kris'to'fer responded, causing Da'vizz to flinch from the rejection. "If a biological agent displays infectious symptoms following a specific trigger, does that not hint at some design? As in this disease was designed to become active at that particular time?"
It was J'onn's turn to frown. "How is that possible? I know of no such disease that incubates until it is triggered in such a fashion."
"Then I suggest you look into it, Officer. At the very least, we can rule such a possibility out if there is no merit for it. At this point, I do not care how outlandish the theory is, I want you to investigate and determine its validity. It will not be long before higher officials come calling, demanding answers that we do not have. We will all be in deep trouble when that happens."
That was not a comforting thought. "And what of the Church?" J'onn could not help but inquire.
"At this time, it is clear they are looking into their own self-preservation. I do not know all of the details of what you have discussed, but I want you to tread carefully around them. Their claims of cooperation ring hollow following this press release. If you are to confront them, I want everything done by the books. If you need a standing authorized warrant to get what we need from them, then it will be done."
J'onn had to hide his surprise. It had been a standing order to be courteous and professional when dealing with outside entities, especially ones that held sway like the Church. To have his commanding officer essentially say to treat them as an uncooperative party was unheard of.
Perhaps it had been wrong of him to think his commander would allow a high-profile institution any such leeway.
So why not take advantage of it. It was their deference that allowed the Church to behave in the manner that they had. They had destroyed crime scenes because it was in their own self-interest. When asked to exclude the Melding of Minds rite, they were rebuffed. J'onn did not need Ma'alefa'ak in his head to know that they were preserving their own importance in Martian culture, especially during the Holy Week.
"If you could put in for the warrant, it would be most beneficial," J'onn said. "I feel that we will be interacting with church officials at some point again, and I would rather be prepared for that encounter."
"Consider it done," Commander Kris'to'fer replied. "Understand this, gentlemen, I want answers. I do not care how you get them as the public will not care. We are now officially on the clock. Get me those answers."