Maximojo and the Wand of Light

by Julianne Bien

  Rutty followed, sliding in the shoot. “Maximojo is finished,” he said, and the thought made every hair on his head stand up. “He will regret the moment he crossed the spacegate into our world. He’ll never escape. I have calculated every move with these little claws, well they may be small, but strong!” He swung his arm, then slicked back a few strands of hair. “I wonder if the captives are awake yet? They have no idea that their doom is coming!”

  He reached for his spyscreen just as Letcho bumped into him. Rutty slapped at the lizzardo. “You are sliming my skin with drool, and you knocked the spyscreen down into the pipeline. Grab it, Scraps.”

  “Did you see Maximojo’s curly-top flatten when he became delirious?” Letcho said. “He didn’t see it coming. That was the best, catching him by surprise. Simply nasty, Rutty. He was still trying to slay those clouds when his eyes shut.”

  “I gave the prize-winning sting!” the scorpiola insisted, pinching the spyscreen and skittering back up.

  “You may be right,” Letcho said. “That was a good sting Scraps, but it didn’t compare to my whacks.”

  Scrapsie slid the device behind Rutty’s ear and jumped on the lizzardo trying to sting him inside his ear.

  “Give it up,” Letcho said.

  “Never, you letch. As long as I have it in me, I have it in for you.” He raised his stinger and darted away.

  “Hold back on your nastiness,” Rutty snapped, “although it’s so raticulous to watch. Letcho, don’t you have a job in the mines? Beat it.”

  Rutty snarled once more over his victory. “The prisoners will soon disintegrate in the dungeon,” he said. “Maximojo and his accomplices are in for a treat and it’s not spacecakes!” His laughter reverberated throughout the pipelines.

  ***

  Unbeknownst to the Captain, during the last phase-in of the present timekeeper, Zalturn’s poles switched their positions. The civilization that had existed on the planet’s surface, known as Treptalon, collapsed inward and now lay below the ancient water system that flowed below the ground. Kavalon appeared in its place.

  Another civilization, known as Mammolia, already existed beneath the planet’s surface, but the Treptalonians and Mammolias were unaware of each other. During the catastrophic phase-in, both civilizations became frozen. When they thawed out both were enslaved and ruled by Rutty and his gang. But Rutty made sure the two cultures never met for fear of them getting together, revolting and reclaiming their homeland.

  Unbeknownst to Rutty, his Master controlled him and his gang using ‘plasmic-putty.’ This material allowed McFee to create molds of the gang and thereby control them to do his dirty work. They are powerless to resist his orders. The putty enabled him to suppress the two civilizations’ memories through the gang’s torment.

  In this underworld, every mountain and rock glowed softly. Bioluminescent spark-flies with large wings dimly lit the mountainous regions and valleys. Turbulent underground rivers carved out caverns and tunnels, which were lined with gemstones. Sweeping fields of vegetation grew along the valleys and hillsides, flourishing in the darkness and providing food for the lost races that lived there.

  The Treptalonians were well suited to mining. Coarse hair kept their metallic, wrinkled skin insulated from the dampness. An iridescent glow radiated from the callused pads of their feet. Their long toenails curled easily over the steep cliffs of the mines, allowing them excellent mobility in the complex tunnel systems.

  Though they were the descendants of a courageous race, none remembered their glorious past or its freedom. They weren’t even allowed to have names. Now they were simply slaves, forced to mine Zalturn’s precious gems under the fist of their overseer, the one called Rutty.

  The Mammolias, too, were enslaved in a deeper part of the planet. With their massive bodies and great strength, they were perfect for breaking up the rock walls to free the jewels that lay within them.

  Letcho was the slaves’ overseer, tormenting them and keeping them in their place. Scrapsie was fast to act if anyone strayed, stinging them back into order when Letcho hissed at them.

  Treptalon’s castle, which once stood proud and beautiful on the surface above, now stood upside-down beside Letcho’s guard post, a tower surrounded by a swamp swarming with vicious snapheads. Meteorite planks reinforced the castle’s drawbridge. Smelka, forgotten, just watched from a window in the tower for Rutty’s return.

  Every turn of the moon cycle, Rutty secretly delivered gems from the mines to his secret contact. They met at the deserted docks after curfew, implemented by the Captain on the advice of his trusted Advisor, Rutland Ratkin. The pilfered treasures were then delivered to another location. It was a planet beyond the outer limits of their galaxy, in defiance of the cosmic code, that forbade the relocation of goods from one galaxy to another.

  Among the former Treptalonians, one youngster stood out. While most of the creatures were convinced that the underworld was the only place to be, this one was curious, and something of a rebel. Although no one was allowed to have a name, he secretly called himself Kelcius-Kol, a name he saw in a dream. He somehow knew that he was not nothing, but someone with a name. While he worked, he reminded himself over and over, “I am Kelcius-Kol.” Not only had he taken on this forbidden name, he had even begun to form a secret workers movement among his fellow slaves.

  The others were stunned at his boldness, and many admired him. While the slaves and everyone accepted the hardships, Kelcius thought differently. “He is going to be someone important someday,” the slaves agreed.

  ***

  Inside the dungeon, the Mojo Team slowly gathered themselves after the big static shock. Glitta flittered about and nearly singed a wing from a stray current that snuck up behind her. She was full of ideas, and began elongating herself into an antenna. She stretched to catch a local signal, wrapping her wings around it.

  “I’ve got it!” she glittered. “This wave is hard to contain. It’s overflowing with data, Mojo!”

  Standing on his toes, he scanned the ceiling and hooked up to the signal. “It’s coming in on the PolyMatrixor now,” He busily pushed buttons. “It looks like there are many spacegates separating multiple civilizations on this planet,” he reported. “From what I can see, our present location and that of Treptalon is one and the same, and it appears we are well below the surface,” he said. “I’ve also detected something that could be causing the planet to wobble,” Maximojo said, “and it is something inside this mountain. Take a look, Glitta.”

  “We’ve located the trouble and it’s not far from here,” Maximojo said. But when Glitta looked at the screen, the picture turned to static and the mountain vanished.

  Woofster began to walk along the inner wall of the dungeon. Discovering a slight protrusion in the floor, he stopped and pawed at it. It made a clicking sound. Meowlen’s ears perked up. Woofster began to bounce on it, and the sediment atop it cleared away.

  “It’s a door!” Meowlen exclaimed. “You are my hero! If there was a way in, then there is a way out.”

  Glitta rattled the trap door’s hinge with an energy surge.

  “You go, girl, but let me assist. My reputation is at stake,” Meowlen said. She hooked a claw under it. Although she did not break a nail this time, neither did the door budge.

  “Look! There’s a keyhole,” she said.

  “Whinniston, show us some fancy moves,” Maximojo said.

  Whinniston took charge. “Move aside, Move aside. Whinny coming to the rescue,” he said. He kicked the door. Nothing happened. Then he reared up in the darkness, stomping again and again on the door. It rattled furiously under the blows, but didn’t open.

  Woofster put his ear to the ground. “Listen!” he said. All huddled around and heard the faint echo of Whinniston’s hoof beats.

  “There must be a tunnel beyond the door. Whinniston, give it all you got!” Maximojo stood back.

  “Whinny’s here. You can relax. This is our exit. Now move aside,” he said again. “I am
the biggest. Take cover!” With nostrils flaring, he slammed down again with all his might. The bedrock cracked, but the plank remained unmoved. “One final blow. Here it comes, watch out, stand back.”

  At that moment, the black widow, obviously in a huff, poked her head through the keyhole in the door. “Wait! Wait! Not another pounce. Hold your blows, big fellow! Fast-fast.”

  Whinniston looked around, having thought he heard something, but then gave the door another kick, barely missing the spider.

  “You clumsy thing!” she yelled. “I have a busy-busy schedule. I went through this with curly-top. You no-good captives are creating a chaotic hoop-la-la. Such commotion is not tolerated. Can you not keep quiet in the dungeon and respect others? You don’t have much time left anyhow. Relish your last breaths in peace and in silence, and don’t disturb the others. You’re not alone in this shrinking crevice of a dungeon!”

  She climbed through the keyhole and began checking corners for nests she may have missed before. “I am sorry I forgot you precious ones!” the spider cooed, and snatched the remaining nests, which she fastened to her sides. She ran up the horse’s leg and onto his forelock. Pointing at him, she said. “Have I made it clear? Keep it quiet. Hush-hush.”

  Whinniston spooked and reared, nearly hitting his head again on the ceiling. Meowlen, angry that the spider scared her friend, went after her but by the time she scratched at the keyhole, Widow Wynder the spider, had vanished.

  Chapter 10

  Bang! Bang!

  Kelcius-Kol heard the distant noise.

  Bang! There it was again.

  Always the inquisitive one, he slipped out of the rest cave without disturbing the others, and hoisted himself onto a smooth stone ledge. He cracked his neck side-to-side, then pulled it up as far as it would go, straining to listen harder.

  Kelcius couldn’t contain his newfound thirst for adventure. He scrambled around and tried to enlist some of the others, slipping into one rest cave after another, but no one was willing to come with him.

  “Pretend you never heard anything!” said one. “You’ll get us all in trouble,” a second warned. “Let us rest,” said a third.

  Despite the fact that he knew he was breaking the rules, he began crawling toward the sound, driven by an urge that called to him, and lately had been speaking louder inside his head. This time it was saying, “Go!”

  “Forbidden adventure, here I come!” If no one else would come with him, at least he had the button bug who lived on his head.

  “I am Kelcius-Kol and I’m different. Independent and proud to stand on my own legs,” he announced. He kicked a leg high in salute to himself and nearly fell off the ledge.

  The button bug, whom Kelcius called “IT,” agreed, and puttied-in his ear, ready for the adventure. Since the bug had taken up residence with the slave, things had become far more interesting. IT was protective of Kelcius, and since it could mold or be molded into any shape imaginable. IT believed it could help.

  “If Rutty happens to find out …” Kelcius shivered at the thought. “But he won’t unless Smelka tells him. I hope she keep a secret.” Kelcius had been secret friends with Smelka since the time they met by chance at the waterhole. She sometimes gave him toasted crawler crisps to eat.

  He shook off his doubts and began to ascend the steep, twisting path between the mountains. The path narrowed as he climbed. To avoid slipping he did not look into the dark pits on either side of him.

  Kelcius remembered what one of the others had once said to him before rest time, “Never look into the bottomless cavern where nothing grows along its stone walls. You’ll know if you come across it by the vapors rising up from the pit. It must be boiling hot as it awaits its next victim.”

  Was this the bottomless cavern? Was something waiting below him right now? Kelcius’s teeth rattled at the thought. He dug a claw into the rock, curled out a chunk, dropped it over the side and waited. Finally he heard the rock splash, followed by a sizzle and a puff of steam. “I guess it has a bottom,” he shuddered.

  He scurried on and came upon a hole. He put his ear up to it. “The noise is on the other side of this hole,” he said. IT, who was hanging out in his ear, popped out and nodded in agreement. Spark-flies swarmed overhead. “Looks like they are trying to warn me, but there is no turning back now!”

  He entered the hole as the flyers’ glow cast eerie shadows on the entrance. He contracted into his smallest size to avoid scraping against the narrow entrance. During the final stretch, he slithered on his belly, scuffing his elbows with each step and leaving tufts of hair wedged between the rocks. Emptying any remaining breath, he squeezed through the last tight space and out of the hole.

  He found himself high up on a ledge with just enough room to crouch low right beneath the trap door that was keeping Maximojo and his friends from their freedom.

  Bang!

  The noise shook IT out of Kelcius’s ear. “We made it, my friend! Far from home, but worth it! The others are going to be disappointed they didn’t come.” Kelcius was excited, but also scared. The button bug swung around to his back, turned itself into a claw, and gave his friend a pat of encouragement.

  “I’ve never been in a forbidden area,” Kelcius said. “Nothing has happened to us, and Letcho is nowhere in sight. Now what shall we do?”

  IT had an idea. The bug leaped onto the door, its sticky bottom adhering to the surface. Kelcius flattened an ear against the door. Miners had extraordinary abilities to detect vibration as a potential warning of the onset of a cave-in. “We’re safe.” Kelcius assured IT.

  IT stretched, molding into the shape of a key, and glided into the opening to see what was on the other side.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before, but then I haven’t seen much from the inside of your ear,” IT said. I can’t really tell you what it is. Looks like a bunch of legs to me.” IT turned around in the keyhole to get back to a warm ear, and inadvertently unlocked the door’s bolt. The door flew open, whacking Kelcius and sending him into tumble toward the cliff’s edge. Being an agile miner, though, he hooked the edge with a claw and kept himself from plummeting into the depths. As he hung there swinging, Lou’s pipe bounced off the ledge and fell away beneath him.

  “Kazeees!” Kelcius watched it disappear into the cavern.

  ***

  In Kavalon, the Captain diligently organized the agenda for the general meeting with the Advisors of the Kingdom. Meetings took place during the third phase of each moon cycle, but they had become unpredictable lately. He decided to later discuss it with the Kingdom’s stargazers.

  It was high noon. Outside the city center bustled with activity. The clock in the city square chimed, signaling him to commence the meeting in the palace. He turned away from the upper floor window, shut the curtains and walked out of his study toward the meeting room where everyone awaited him around a large table.

  “We’re on time, at least for now,” he began. He looked upon the assembled. Rutland stood out in his mustard skin-clad suit. His clay-like complexion, coarse hair and wiry moustache were in harsh contrast to the others seated around the table. Rutland liked it that way. Being his own rat provided him with discretionary grooming options.

  “He is typically impeccable,” said one of the Advisors, “but there is something odd about his behavior lately.” The Advisor scribbled a few numbers on royal parchment, but wondered, “Why should I bother? Rutland Ratkin always has the final say on funding expenditures. The Captain holds him in the highest regard.”

  The Captain reviewed each of his Advisors’ reports. The Kingdom was in the final stages of allocating funding for upcoming projects and he voiced a growing concern about a certain project.

  Meanwhile, Rutty thought, “I’ve had a hectic schedule recently. Little rest. Dutiful days filled with research and successful execution of master plans. Now he is quibbling about fund allocations? I bring more wealth to this planet than he knows, and yet he is still not satisfied?”

&nbs
p; Rutty was becoming restless. He had matters to attend to in the mines. Rutty brushed dirt off his jacket and looked around to make sure no one was watching. “Arguing about nonsensical matters that have nothing to do with me wastes my time,” he grumbled to himself.

  The Captain waved a map. “Master McFee has not arrived yet, but it appears Rutland has an unusual request. Why do you seek my approval for the expansion of mining explorations off shore? We have priceless resources in the mountain regions around us. There is no need to mine other continents. Are you trying to send us to sea to conquer other lands, Rutland? The waters are traitorous, as I would know firsthand.”

  But at that moment, McFee arrived at the meeting with Mannie, who was no longer the dog he had been. His fur was matted and dull from scorpiola poison, and he had a swollen nose courtesy of Letcho’s tail. Normally Mannie would wait in the parlor and entertain Clarenette, but when they entered the palace’s main entranceway, Mannie’s sniffer went wild. He stood on his hind legs and scanned the room for the source of the scent. He spied Rutland from across the room. Both froze when they made eye contact. Although the rat had shape-shifted into his Rutland persona, there was no fooling Mannie’s sniffer. Rutland put his hands on the table and began to slowly lift himself so as not to startle the dog.