Terry Bisson - The Fifth Element

“Okay, Father,” the Chief said to Father Cornelius. “Your song now.”

“I was in my parish,” Cornelius said. “The belt rings, so I open the door and…”

The office door banged open again.

Three cops limped in, bloodied and bandaged.

“A bomb?” asked the Chief nervously.

“Yeah,” said the only one of the cops who could speak. “A five foot, nine inch bomb with red hair and green eyes.”

At this, Cornelius perked up. “Yes!” he said to himself.

A little too loudly.

He looked up to see the three cops and their Chief all staring at him curiously.

Cornelius leaned over the desk toward the Security Chief. “May I speak with you alone?”

The Diva had arrived!

Doves flew into the air, and bright jellyfish were released into the water (as stipulated in her contract).

Smoke bombs and flares spattered the sky, and the swelling notes of a brass band announced her arrival to the assembled multitudes (as stipulated in her contract).

She stepped off her tiny private starship onto a red carpet (as stipulated in her contract), and a gang of muscular bodyguards (as stipulated in her contract) cleared her way into the reception deck of the Fhloston Paradise, and down a long corridor.

Those who had come to admire the Diva Piavalaguna’s legendary beauty were disappointed for a white chiffon veil covered her face-thought the long tentacles of her “hair” were clearly visable writhing most appealingly.

Leeloo cut through the crowd of admirers, and headed for the corridor, where she could see the Diva, and be seen by her.

She followed the porters carrying the Diva’s voluminous baggage until she was halfway down the corridor, out of sight of the crowd. There she stopped and pretended to admire a painting hanging on the wall.

It was a beautiful rendering of a clipper ship under full sail. It had been knocked askew by the porters and was hanging upside down.

After the porters came the security police, then the bodyguards.

Then the Diva Plavalaguna herself, followed by her managers and personal assistants, numbers one through ten.

Leeloo turned to face the Diva as she passed…

And the Diva stopped.

She reached out and touched Leeloo’s cheek.

A crackle of static electricity flew between the twawomen.

The managers and assistants (one through ten) jumped back.

The Diva walked on, followed by her retinue.

Her third associate personal assistant hung back until the rest were gone, then whispered in Leeloo’s ear:

“Miss Plavalaguna wants me to tell you that she will give you what you have come to get. But she wants to sing first… one last time!”

Leeloo nodded.

“And one other thing…”

The assistant turned the painting right side up. Leeloo smiled. It looked much better.

“Miss Diva…”

The Diva approached her dressing room, and found it guarded by a squad of security cops, standing in ranks.

In front of them stood a short, sharp cop hung with medals, devices, insignia, belts, chains, cuffs, whips and a flashlight or two.

“I’m Fog, head of security for your visit.”

Diva Plavalaguna ignored him, sweeping past him as if he were a houseplant.

“Everything is in order. You can…”

The Diva’s retinue followed her, and Fog addressed them as they passed.

“…make yourselves at home safely. If you need anything…”

The dressing room door slammed in his face. “Give a knock!”

Putting on a tux was difficult enough for Korben, who had quit the military because he hated dressing up (among other reasons).

It was even more difficult with one hand, which was all he had free. With the other he held the phone away from his ear while he tried to placate his mother.

“listen, Ma! I’ve only got a few days’ vacation, and I don’t want to spend them on the phone,” BRRRAAANNNGG!

“Hang on, Ma. It’s the door. No! I told you! I didn’t bring anybody!”

Korben opened the door of his suite. And saw the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.

“Apipoulai!” Leeloo said with a smile, brushing past him into the suite.

Korben closed the door behind her. “Listen, Ma, I’ll call you back…”

He hung up the phone.

“You’re very cute in your costume,” Leeloo said. She found her suitcase on her bed where the bellhop had left it, and pulled out a bright frock.

She laid the dress on the bed and started taking off her clothes.

Korben reddened and turned his back.

“Leeloo, wait a minute! I’m a kind of old-fashioned guy, you know. I’m not saying no—I would love to say yes. But we only met this morning…”

“You know,” Leeloo said, ignoring his embarrassment, “women normally change clothing five times more than men.”

“Oh yeah?” Korben asked. “You get that off the screen?”

“Yes,” said Leeloo. “You can turn around.” Korben.

What he saw was only a little more—or less—than what he had both feared and hoped to see.

Leeloo was more beautiful than ever in a short, sharp smock.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“With you,” Leeloo said. “I’m going to see the Diva sing.”

Korben was reeling. He had never wanted to feel this way about a woman again. Especially now, when he needed to keep his wits about him. He had to find a way to keep her out of danger.

He sat down heavily on the side of the bed.

Leeloo looked down at her dress—what little there was of it—then back at Korben. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” said Korben. “I mean, just the opposite. You’re… you’re beautiful!”

Leeloo’s face lit up. “Thank you.”

Korben shook his head resolutely, then reached into his back pocket. “I have something for you,” he said.

Leeloo stood on her tiptoes excitedly. “Gift? For me?”

Korben pulled out a single stainless steel bracelet. “It will go perfectly with your dress.”

Leeloo held out her hand. “What do you call it?” she asked, as Korben slipped it over her slim and perfect wrist—and snapped it shut.

“A laser handcuff,” he said.

He pressed a button on the side of the cuff, and a laser beam shot from the floor to the ceiling, trapping Leeloo where she stood.

“Army issue, latest model. I’m sorry, Leeloo, but I told you, I have to work in peace.”

“You!” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a…”

“I know exactly the word you’re looking for,” Said Korben. “It’s not in the dictionary you studied. I won’t be long.”

He pulled on his tuxedo jacket, just then the door burst open and Loc Rhod rushed in.

“Hey, Stud, we gotta hustle outta here!!”

He saw Leeloo, twisting in her low-cut dress, her hand pinioned above her head by the laser beam.

Loc Rhod smiled.

“Korben, my man, what’s happening here?? Who’s the chick?? What’s the gig?? We free forming here?? Getting funky with this monkey?? Can I get in on this??”Loc Rhod sidled up to the furious Leeloo. He was just reaching for her shapely—When Korben grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the floor.

“Later,” said Korben, tossing Lod Rhod out the door.

He followed, locking the door carefully behind him.

A FEW HUNDRED LIGHT YEARS AWAY, THANKS TO THE MAGIC OF FTL technology, President Lindberg and his staff of scientists and generals were listening in on the galaxy’s “most happening” radio show.

The President sat at his desk.

The generals were arrayed behind him.

The scientists behind them.

Two speakers emerged from the presidential desktop.

“It’s now five P.M. Central Galactic Time, time join Loc Rhod and Korben Dallas, the lucky winner of the Gemini Croquettes contest… Live from Fhloston Paradise!”