Corax and Grum Pt. 02

I called the police and the Immigration Authority. I was able to get a few favors called in, but it was a few hours later, after nine p.m. that I got news they had passed through the immigration check point in Shenzhen. I was told that it was unlikely I could find them if Joyce didn't want to be found, especially if she had help.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"That was twenty months ago. Under Chinese law, a spouse can get a divorce from a local court by waiting for two years and filing for desertion. She'll get custody of the kids, and I'll never see them again. She's a local and I'm a foreigner and I live in Hong Kong. The system is rigged completely against me. And China pays lip service to the international community, but in reality, giving the children of a local to a foreigner after a divorce just doesn't happen in these kinds of cases." Kevin sighed; the pain seemingly as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.

Kevin looked at his companions. Corax had leaned in, examining Kevin during his talk but there was a quiet sympathy there. It appeared Brian hadn't moved at all. If he had to guess, Kevin didn't think the man was breathing.

"I'm sorry. I've spoken to my lawyer about this, and my brother back in Wales knows. A few people at work know some details but not all of it." He took a drink. He had put a major dent into the bottle of scotch in front of him during the retelling. "I'm just not used to talking about it.

"I've looked back at myself, as to what I may have done to cause this. I've never struck her or the kids. Joyce was actually more of a disciplinarian than I was. Locals don't spare the rod, if you know what I mean," he gave a wry nod. "But I wouldn't call her abusive either. She was quick-tempered. That was her personality though.

"I never had an affair. Or even thought of one. She was enough for me. She was my wife, and while I know she may not have felt the same way, I did love her. I worked, but made enough time for the kids. I didn't have to stay in the office late that often. I made sure we had regular time away and that she had everything she needed to maintain appearances.

"Her parents loved and doted on the kids. As far as I know, she was happy on all fronts."

Kevin sighed as he went through the well-worn mental inventory to try come up with what causes there were, or something he may have over looked. He'd done the same torturous exercise countless times since that day. Nothing ever came up. Nothing other than Joyce's own desires to control and manipulate. "I guess I never really knew her as well as I thought I did."

Brian surprised Kevin by speaking first. "Mr. Houghton, am I correct in saying that you would not seek retribution against your wife, as long as you got full access to your children?"

"Ex-wife. I couldn't stay with her after she's kidnapped my children. But yes. She can have a divorce and I'll cut her a fat check today. More than what she's entitled to. I wouldn't press charges. I'd do anything to get them back. They're my everything."

"Would you share them with her, in a settlement?"

"Would you? She's run to ground once already. I can't say as I'd trust her to tell me the sky is blue, let alone honor a custody agreement."

Brian's eyes danced without moving, as he turned his head to Corax. The bird fluttered and cooed on the giant's shoulder, but the two men didn't speak.

After a few seconds, Brian turned back. Without changing his expression, he somehow looked more menacing. "Mr. Houghton - "

"Kevin, please," Kevin interrupted, but suddenly regretted it, not wanting to aggravate him.

"Kevin," he grinned, softening momentarily. "Your story echoes with me, although I cannot say I have experienced exactly what you have. I am truly sorry for what you've gone through. I know the pain that it can put you through, down to the soul." At the last word, it wasn't Brian speaking, but something else; at least it wasn't his voice. Only for the one word, but it hurt Kevin's ears. "And I know the pain of ways that you're dealing with that suffering.

"That said," Brian continued, "We are limited in the kind of relief we can offer to you."

Corax spoke up. "Of late, Corax & Grum offer certain services which may be of value in your situation, Kevin. While the cost is considerable, there is a ... balancing which can occur."

"I'd pay any cost, Corax. My kids would be worth everything I have."

"I understand that Kevin. I do. However, there is a point at which the needed expenses for such an effort would defeat the purpose of whatever benefit the children may realize."

It didn't make sense to Kevin. He was wealthy; not on the level of Her Majesty's wealth, but he could afford quite a bit. Joyce would've gained considerably more than what she stole had she gone through a division of assets in a legal divorce. And he would've paid it gladly.

"I have money -"

"Yes, Kevin. We understand. Unfortunately, it's not so simple. The methods needed are rather severe, and the conditions of your situation make it rather moot that you would not be around to enjoy your children."

There was a lot being unsaid, but Kevin took it to mean that whatever Corax and Brian would do may mean he'd have to leave Hong Kong.

"Look I'd go back the England. Happily. I just want my kids back."

Corax sighed. Brian spoke back up. "Kevin, there are some costs which are too high, and while we are genuinely interested in your case, there is only so much which can be accomplished at the current time, and with the limited circumstances we find ourselves. It's not a matter of money. We understand your motivation, and it's a legitimate cause. Our own research verifies the story as you've related it to us."

"You already knew my story?" Now Kevin was really confused.

"Kevin," Corax nodded. "We have rather extensive means at our disposal to gather intelligence."

A third voice, deep and ringing like the chirping, icy sounds a frozen lake makes as it cracks in winter, sounded in Kevin's head. It was the most bizarre event yet in a night full of oddities.

"Kevin Houghton, I am Grum. It is important that your internal history be in-line with the current objective series of events. If there is a disconnect between your version and actual true events, then there would be no way to offer our services. We must ensure that those we help are aware of the true events and can properly assess the conditions and costs involved."

Neither Brian nor Corax had spoken. The pigeon on Corax's shoulder stared at Kevin, but it didn't open its beak or move. Not only that, there was no way that a voice the size of the one in Kevin's head came from a pigeon.

Not only that, but there was no talking. There was no sound at all. There was the impression of sound. But the actual conversation took place in Kevin's head; the entire conversation was just there, in his head all at once. First word to last was in his mind, processed and understood in an instant.

Kevin's discomfort had peaked. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid I've had enough for tonight. Corax, ah ..." he swallowed. How does one address the impossible? By name? "Grum. Brian. I wish you all a pleasant evening. Perhaps you can reconsider a way that you may help me? I'm desperate. Truly.

"If not, you've been more help than you know already. I do appreciate you taking time to meet me here, and I do honestly feel a sense of relief in talking about my sad little tale here. But I'm afraid I have things to do tomorrow, and I must take my rest."

Brian and Corax nodded before they stood. They thanked him and cleared the way for him to walk home. There was a noticeable sway in his step as he left them at the table.

"Was it right to not discuss the upcoming conditions with him?" Brian asked.

"In this case, Brian, it was. He is particularly vulnerable now. We need to bring this along in stages, as the pieces already in motion will ensure that there is a reseeding, as difficult as it is for us to remain uninvolved for now."

Harvesters were about action, not patience; waiting wasn't a concept they understood. This was new for Brian's host. Brian's memories fed into its desire and urgency to act, but at the same time, it needed to defer to Corax's judgement.

It was an odd sight, as the two men, one a giant, and a bird left Drunkerland that night. The other patrons were aware that the notably odd pair left. But seconds after they were gone, the collective memories of all who had seen them were gone without a trace. Like the passing of a breeze, noted and forgotten, there was no notice that there had ever been anyone remarkable there in the first place.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The meeting between Kevin and Oliver went well, but the discussion drifted once business was addressed, and neither felt like being in the office. They decided to continue with a walk outside. The protests against the Chinese government filled the streets again. Hundreds of thousands of people - students, professionals and stay-at-home mothers were walking, chanting and trying to actively determine their future in a noble cause. It was a huge cross-section of the local populations. At times it was tough to not get swept up, both figurative and literally. The people's cause was really infectious for Kevin. Who wouldn't want freedom from an autocratic government? It had been a long time since he had felt like he had something to root for, to be enthusiastic about.

Not since...

His angry-young-man days were in the past and a mellower, more reflective man looked at those who had now taken the mantle and were out protesting in the streets.

People of all ages and backgrounds milled about the two of them, so there was no alarm as a group of young men moved across the street. Two men in dark suits standing on the sidewalk caught Kevin's attention. As he turned to recognize them, a sudden stitch in Kevin's side brought him to his knees. Oliver walked on a few steps before he noticed Kevin was no longer beside him. Turning back, he saw his friend on his knees, holding his side. Kevin looked down at his hands, with a disbelieving look. They were covered in red.

Oliver paused. In those moments, with the low-key chaos all around, so much was unusual that most people would hesitate before reacting. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. When Kevin slumped to the ground, Oliver came alive and raced to his friend. Seeing the blood, he called for help, and then reached into his pocket for his phone. By the time he dialed for emergency services, several good Samaritans had joined to assist. But there was little that could be done, besides keep him talking, keep pressure on the wound and protect him from the oblivious other protesters who might step on him.

The ambulance was delayed because of the people in the street. Hong Kong people still observe a high level of humanity, despite being branded as "rioters", but they would not let others in need of help suffer from the protests. What would've been an hour delay anywhere else under such chaotic conditions was approximately a fifteen-minute wait that day in HK, where the protesters parted before the ambulance like the Red Sea before Moses. Paramedics took over, but Kevin looked grim. As they loaded him into the ambulance, they told Oliver that he and the rescuers' minor triage of keeping pressure on the wound kept him alive. Oliver got the hospital name they were taking him to and agreed to meet them there for admitting purposes.

The two men in dark suits who had witnessed the entire event, one of average stature, one a near giant, with a bird sitting on his shoulder stood there watching there until they weren't there anymore. A loud crack was heard, but in the context and uncertainty of the protests, there was no notice of the disappearing act.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kevin sat in an ICU recovery room bed, alone. The surgeons treated him as well as they could, but there was extremely low likelihood of his survival. The stabbing had pierced lung, liver and perforated his bowel. He was dying. At this point, they kept him as medicated as possible; pain management was the only care at this point as his body had already begun to shut down.

Oliver sat in a waiting area down the hall from Kevin's wardroom. It was a large room with molded plastic chairs around the perimeter.

He had heard the prognosis and was close to tears. There was an older gentleman reading a newspaper in a seat in the corner, but otherwise there was no one there. Kevin had no one else to care for him in town. There would be no one within ten thousand kilometers to mourn him. His kids would never know what happened. The old man got up and left without a word.

He couldn't imagine such a terrible fate, to pass unknown, in such a senseless way.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated. As he answered it, two men in dark suits, both Westerners and one extremely tall entered the waiting area and took chairs opposite him in the large space.

"Tsing Hai, I can't speak now," Oliver said in Teochew, so he would not be overheard. He noticed the tall man had what looked like a pigeon sitting quietly on his shoulder.

"Wei Mun, where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital, my friend was stabbed in the protests and it looks very serious." The two men and the bird sat motionless, not looking at Oliver. He stood and faced the wall.

There was a pause. "Wait, he was your friend?"

"Yes, he and I were col - ... Wait. You know about this? What do you know? Nong lan, you dick head. What have you done?

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Tsing Hai, was this you?" Oliver asked, voice rising. "Did you have a hand in this? You and your little gang shits? If you did ..."

"Look, I didn't know! She wanted the kids and told me that she would leave me if I didn't - "

Oliver's mouth hung open. Several pieces fell into place and he felt so ashamed; ashamed of his brother, ashamed for his own part in Kevin's misfortunes - however minor, and heartbroken that his friend could never get the closure he so deserved. He was nothing more than a good man who loved his kids. And for that he was betrayed by his cunt of a wife, who stole his children while aided by his own brother to escape and hide. Normally reserved and quiet, a rage at everything burst from him.

"We're through. We're done. Nothing. No family. No side deals. No more supply. You're cut off you chau hāi!"

"Wei Mun, no! It's an accident, I didn't - "

"Accident? My ass it was an accident. You and that whore plotted and were behind the misery of my friend, and now you've killed him?"

"You can't! I'm your brother - "

"Don't fucking remind me of my low-life brother. This will kill Mother and Father," Oliver hissed, flecks of spit flew from his mouth. He leaned into the wall, resting his head on his arm.

"I'm a dead man if I can't get supplies any more. You can't cut me off! This is a - " Jimmy paused. "Please, I'll make it up!"

"To whom? He's dying. It's over 'Jimmy'. 'Jimmy the gangster'!" he spat, his voice pure venom. "You knew it could end like this. When it was just drugs, I could overlook it. Who cares if idiots poison themselves? But murder?" Oliver disconnected the call.

Turning around, the two men in suits now stood less than a yard away, trapping him against the wall. Startled, he gasped loudly. His immediate impression was that neither man was actually human.

But those thoughts were gone in an instant at the thing behind them. Almost the entire waiting room save the space that the three men stood in was filled by a black, shiny dragon. Serpentine and slithering, the body shifted over itself in a graceful dance, armored scales flexing atop alien muscles in a constricting ballet. Multiple arms extended from the horror, ending with black three-clawed 'hands'. The head though was from his worst childhood fears. A long snout hung open with rows of teeth which looked like a display of a cutlery store's biggest knives. Toxic yellow drool coated everything in that gate to Hell, overflowing to spill onto the floor. Multiple eyes, all of them insectile, and all the colors of the rainbow stared blankly at what was surely to be its next meal.

"Hello, Oliver," the tall one said, a most unpleasant smile revealing his own set of monstrous teeth, these ones looked like grinding stones.

Oliver swayed, losing himself as he fell to the ground. But he never reached either the floor or unconsciousness. The smaller man had grabbed his shirt and lifted him back to his feet. Something entered his mind and kept him there in the room, wide-awake.

"No." The voice, though barely above a whisper, was not from human lungs; it held the tone and timbre of a blast-furnace exploding. He held Oliver in place with all the effort of holding up a piece of paper. His head lolling to focus on the face of the smaller man holding him, Oliver's bladder voided. At that moment, he'd rather take his chances with the giant and the dragon. He wept uncontrollably, knowing a fear deeper than he would ever know again.

"Oliver," the giant continued, "We're here about Kevin Houghton. We'd like to talk with you about a day almost twenty-one months ago."

Held by the shirt, his eyes moved to the big man, Oliver began to talk, hoping that if he told them all he knew, this three-headed nightmare would grant a merciful death.

Much to his surprise, Oliver Wong Wei Mun was not rendered limb from limb, but instead engaged in a dialogue with the monsters in the waiting room with him. He explained things and they explained things. They did not judge him; he realized that would've been like people judging the motives of single bacterium on the jungle floor in Borneo. They did however explain just a modicum of how the universe, or a thing called 'the Collective', functioned, and that there would be a form a justice meted out in this Collective if Kevin wished. But going back to the creation of man, there was no gaining of knowledge without a loss of innocence. For Oliver's new-found wisdom, he was granted permanent nightmares for the rest of his life, knowing that those three were out there, and that they were watching him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Kevin," Corax said softly, from the bedside.

Eyes fluttering, Kevin woke from a hazy, hectic dream. As he came out of his sleep, he was mildly aware that there he felt nothing in his body, but was relatively clear headed.

"Where am I?" Kevin tried to move, but his muscles were not responding. Even so, Corax placed an enormous hand on his chest, signaling to not even make an effort. "What's wrong with me?" He realized he was in a hospital, but not much else was coming to mind.

"Hello, Kevin," Corax smiled, a soft genuine smile. Kevin's eyes went to him. Both Corax and Brian stood bedside; the bird sat on Brian's shoulder this time. How did they get that rat with wings into a hospital?

Brian spoke, his eyes a sad cast, their dance a subdued swirl of a slow boil, yet his voice was sweet with a musical tone. "Kevin, the four of us find ourselves with a difficult choice. You have been wounded and you will not recover. The time of your death is at hand. Rest assured that you have been treated with the best of care, and the steps that follow will ensure that you are treated with the highest degree of respect."

In the back of his mind, Kevin knew this. He couldn't quite place the whys and hows, but he knew that this was the end of his fight.

"Kevin Houghton," Grum imprinted into his brain. "Our previous conversation noted that we could not assist you in your goal to reclaim your children at that time. The coming transition removes the restriction from us to aid you. You have a choice.