"Mojo" by Colin Allpow

*buzz* the monitor flicked one.

“Are you awake, sir?” A voice inquired from speakers adjacent to the screen.

“Wwhat?”

Mojo puffed out from his half asleep head.

“You’re late mister Oj” The voice from the speakers announced sternly.

“What the Tharb are you talking about? And who is this?” Mojo asked as he injected a vile of his morning Locom into his tentacle, in an attempt to wake up faster.

“This is Comu and I would advise against the use of such foul language when addressing a highly ranked official such as myself.” The voice responded.
 

“Official my toch! Tax collector doesn’t count as an official. Besides, I definitely already paid my taxes." Mojo retaliated, the Locom was just starting to kick in. "I was chosen especially by the grand court of Hoka the third, of the great Ok dynasty! And I have it on record here that your last payment of seven million Grix was paid in counterfeit Griz made out of tin. Now we don’t want to make accusations, but it would be quite the coincidence if you somehow ended up with 7 million counterfeit Grix by accident,” Comu reported.

“Mister Om, are you saying that you think an upstanding citizen such as myself,” Mojo began sarcastically, “would do something so egregious?”

“I don’t think I’d call a repeated felon an upstanding citizen.” Comu stated coldly.

“Fair enough.” Mojo agreed, “Is it a felony to use counterfeit money to pay your taxes?”

“Actually, I believe it’s four felonies, mister Oj.” Comu answered.

“That’s almost an even hundred.” Mojo thought aloud, “I think I’ll skip out on these taxes so I can hit the milestone.”

“I can’t begin to understand your reasoning mister Oj.” Comu sighed, “Is that really decision?”

“Krinsc yes it is!” Mojo exclaimed, “too bad evading arrest will make the one hundred mark pass so quickly.”

“Sir, we have your location right , how do you plan to evade arrest?” Comu asked unconvinced. “...sir.”

There was no answer on the Mojo’s end.

“Not again!” Roki screamed, “How did he escape?”

“I don’t know Master Ok, he was under Locational Surveillance. The LS Team has printed a copy of their log on Oj.” Officer Shinu explained as he handed the records to his superior.

“Oj has escaped us too many times before.” Roki lamented.

‘If it’s any consolation,” Shinu stammered, “Oj always does his time for every crime he commits.”

“Yes,” Roki agreed, “but only after he turns himself in. His sentence is not a sentence if it’s on his own terms. I want him captured Officer In. I don’t care that he is your wife’s brother, he’s a criminal.”

 

more than 20 cycles old.

“There’s not much we can do while the church of Ruese and the private institutions have so much control. All our revolts have been crushed and we’re all dying in places like this.” Mojo answered solemnly, “I want to give up, but then I’m still stuck under the feet of every upper middle class carpem and his stoch, and then I’d just be a compliant slave. I truly am ready to collapse.”

“I was always taught to not to give up hope.” The young carpem said to Mojo in an almost comforting manner that also begged for confirmation.

“What’s your name?” Mojo asked.

“I’m Theto.” He replied.

“Well, Theto, stick with that hope of yours. I hope you never give it up, because even if you’re wrong, it’s better to die wrong and hopeful than right and hopeless.” Mojo replied in as encouraging a tone as he could muster up. “I think my time is coming to a close. In one week I will travel to the capital at the black hole Floom and allow myself to dissipate in the middle of the Court of Ok, before Hoka the third himself.”

The group was silent for a moment. Many silently agreed with Mojo’s course of action, while others pondered what they might say to change his mind, nevertheless no one spoke. As the silence continued to ring, Theto approached Mojo and placed his tentacle on Mojo’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this.” Theto spoke softly.

“But I do.” Mojo responded.

Theto remained silent, unable to come up with the perfect words to sway

“Yessir. I know sir.” Shinu promised as he saluted Roki in the traditional manner of wrapping one’s tentacle around himself and hopping and then he exited Roki’s chamber.
Meanwhile, Mojo was busy hiding on the edge of a wormhole, along with several of his fugitive friends. The wormhole provided the perfect cover because while he sat between two points of space, he would register in two locations on the LS

records and both positions wouldcancel out as, “errors.”

“So, tell me Mo, how did the Locom work?” A fellow criminal asked.

“Like a charm,” Mojo sang, “One injection into the Trace Organ and it went on overdrivebefore shorting out. I’m surprised they still allow the stuff on the market. Especially in this Galaxy,where they think they have the right to add organs too your body for their own personalbookkeeping.”

“If they took it out, people would figure out that it did something, they are better off keeping it legal and leaving the few of us to utilize it.” Another chimed in.

‘“You toch!” Mojo retorted, “Do you really think any of those numbminded idiots noticesanything more than a foot from their face?”

The felons all expressed concurrence.

“I’m done with all of it!” Mojo suddenly proclaimed in a burst of frustration, “They think they own us and they treat us like slaves. We’re carpem too, right? We all live and breath. They lookdown on us but they created us. This society punishes random carpem and keeps our facespressed against the ground until we give up and live out the rest of our lives like animals. Of course I counterfeited my taxes! I had no money to pay with if I had wanted to!”

“But what can we do?” A younger carpem wondered aloud. He was probably no 

Mojo.

“The meeting of the Court of Ok will begin immediately.” A voice boomed from a Carpem sitting in the throne on the back corner of the heptagonal room.

The carpem who spoke seemed far too small to produce such a low, ringing voice. He had ruled before him and her father had ruled before her. Hoka did

not ask to be born into such a powerful lineage, but he certainly enjoyed it.

Several news cameras were present, as was always the case at these meetings. The Ok Dynasty did little to hide its evil from its citizens, knowing that more than enough of them wouldn’t pay enough attention to care.

“First item on the floor,” Councilman Joku announced, “Diverting tax funding of education to the subsidizing of Crooth farms. All in favour, say ‘rok.’”

The room echoed with a chorus of “rok’s.”

“Second item on the floor...” Councilman Joku began before being interrupted by a crash at the front of the room.

The large audience of councilmen and women turned to face the door and found that it had been kicked down by none other than the wanted criminal Mojo. The council gasped and screamed in fear for their lives, as several security carpem converged on Mojo, prepared to disintegrate him with their batons.

But, before any of the security guards could reach him, Mojo reached the center of the room and shouted loud enough for all the news cameras present to hear, “This is what you turned me into!” and on the last word he let go and fell into a pile of dust.

Just as he collapsed, Officer Shinu barged into the court, baton blazing.

“What happened? Where did he go?” Shinu shouted.

“He’s...right there.” One of the councilmen peeped.
Shinu looked down at the ash in the center of the room and stared in silence.