The Fifth Element

12

“YES?”

The door was opened by an old man, small, with a face as round as a one-franc piece, and a shock of white hair.

His visitor was a strong, scarred man short on hair but long on nervousness.

In his arms was a girl. She appeared to be sleeping.

“Excuse me,” Korben said, “I’m looking for a priest.”

“Weddings are one floor down, my son,” said the priest. “And congratulations.”

He closed the door.

It opened again—kicked in.

“She’s not my bride,” said Korben. “She’s my fare. She’s looking for a Vito Cornelius. According to the phone guide he lives here.”

“That’s me,” said the priest, buckling his robe more tightly around him as he stared at the two intruders. “But I don’t know who she is.”

The girl was wearing a bright, revealing jumpsuit and her shoulder-length hair was fiery red.

The priest regarded her suspiciously. “Where did you find her?”

“She… dropped in on me,” Korben said.

He held the girl out toward the priest and her arm dropped to one side. There was a tattoo on her wrist.

Four elements connected by lines.

When the priest saw it, the color drained from his face.

He looked down at the scarred and scratched symbol of the four elements on his antique brass belt buckle. It matched her tattoo exactly.

“The Fifth Element!,” he breathed, and sank to the floor; unconscious.

Korben stepped all the way into the apartment, letting the door slide shut behind him.

“Finger’s going to kill me!” he muttered, looking for a place to set down the girl.

SLAP. Cornelius awoke.

He was staring into a battered but kindly, tough but intelligent mug.

“Who are you?”

“I brought the girl, remember?”

Cornelius sat up. “Girl?”

Then he remembered. The Fifth Element.

“Yeah!” Korben was saying. “She dropped in

on me. I mean, on my taxi. Talking this bizarre language.”

Cornelius shook his head, so slowly that it seemed almost a new style of prayer.

“Not bizarre. The divine language. The most ancient language. Spoken through the Universe before time was Time. The Fifth Element, the Supreme…” Cornelius looked at the girl who lay stretched out on the couch, her red hair gleaming, and suddenly it dawned on him:

“He’s—a she!”

“You noticed,” said Korben.

His sarcasm was lost on the priest, who was all but kneeling before the sleeping girl. “It’s a miracle! There’s not a moment to lose! Wake her up, but be gentle about it! This woman is mankind’s most precious possession!”

“She is?”

“She is—perfect!”

And Cornelius ran out of the room.

Korben knelt by the girl’s side.

He raised an arm to slap her awake, then changed his mind.

He lowered the hand slowly. With his fingertips, he touched her cheek.

Her skin was as soft and fragile as the petal of a rose. It was hard to believe she had fallen through the roof of his cab, almost unharmed.

“Perfect,” Korben whispered.

“It’s a miracle!”

The novice, David, looked up from the cassock he was mending with his favorite ancient device, a needle and thread.

Father Cornelius had just burst into the room, out of breath and red-faced.

“Miracle?” David asked. “Where?”

Father Cornelius opened the closet door

“I can’t wear these clothes,” he said. “This calls for dignity!”

The closet was hung with cassocks. They were all identical to the one David was mending; identical, in fact, to the one Father Cornelius was wearing.

“I have to dress the part!” cried Cornelius, disappearing into the closet as David looked on, shaking his head in wonder.

The girl wouldn’t wake up.

Korben touched her cheek, then her other cheek.

Suddenly, on an impulse that surprised even him, he bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.

That worked.

Her eyes snapped open.

Korben felt something cold, and sat up suddenly.

It was his own gun jammed under his chin.

The girl had pulled it from his shoulder holster in a single swift movement.

“Eto aktagamat!”

“I’m sorry,” said Korben. “It’s just that…” Just that what? her eyes seemed to ask Embarrassed, Korben stumbled on. He wasn’t particularly good with girls (although they usually didn’t seem to notice). “I was told to wake you up gently, so I figured…”

The girl looked puzzled. She lowered the gun.

“You’re right,” said Korben. “I’m wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Especially since we haven’t been formally introduced, and…”

He fumbled in the pockets of his vest and pulled out a cheap, blinking plastic business card.

“Here. It’s a bit late, but my name is Korben. Korben Dallas. I’m a cab driver. Call me any time. You don’t need to jump off a building to catch a cab, you know. Just call…”

The girl hesitated for a moment, then snatched the card out of his hand.

With an unexpected smile.

“Father!”

“Mumphh.”

David could tell where Father Cornelius was by watching the rippling of the cassocks in the closet. It was like tracking a whale underwater.

A very small, very determined whale.

“Father, will you please explain what is going on?”

“The Supreme Being,” said Father Cornelius, his voice muffled by the yards of dusty cloth that hung in the closet.

“The what?”

“The Fifth Element! Here in our parish!” Cornelius emerged with a clean cassock, holding it in front of him like a schoolgirl checking out her prom dress.

“It’s a miracle!” he said.

“And what’s your name?” Korben asked the girl. She was studying the card he had given her. Korben pointed to his name on the card. “Name!” She brightened, seeming to understand.

“Leeloo Minai Lekarariba-Laminai-Tchaii Ekbat De Sebat,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Hey,” said Korben, struggling to take it all in. “That’s… cute. Do you have a nickname? Something a little… shorter?”

“Leeloo.”

Korben stared into her deep green eyes. They were like a sea in which he was eager to drown. Her flame-red hair was like a fire in which he desperately wanted to be consumed.

He was falling in love.

“Leeloo,” he repeated. “That’s really… cute.”

Father Cornelius and David burst into the living room—and found themselves staring into the barrel of Korben’s gun, held on them by the girl.

“Appipulai Lee loo Minai,” Cornelius said.

The girl lowered the gun. “Cor knee lee us?”

He bowed. “At your service.”

She started to laugh. It was a childish, infectious laugh that brought a smile to the old priest’s face, and to Korben’s as well.

Only the young novice, David, was frowning, He had never been so close to such a desirable creature. It bothered him that she was so… sexy.

He turned to the priest. “Are you sure she’s the Supreme Being?”

“Absolutely,” said Cornelius. “There are the Four Elements on her wrist!”

David bowed low, while Leeloo extended her thin wrist for his examination.

Meanwhile, Cornelius took Korben’s thick wrist in his two small hands and steered him toward the door.

“Thanks so much for your help, Mr… ?” “Dallas,” said Korben. “Korben Dallas. But—” Korben looked back over his shoulder. Leeloo was no longer laughing. She was watching him with sad eyes.

“Yes,” babbled the priest, “that’s fine. Thank you very much, a thousand times over!”

“Think I might call to check up on her?” Korben asked as the apartment door slid open. “You know, to see if she’s better?”

“She’s fine, really,” said Father Cornelius as he expertly hustled Korben through the door. “Don’t worry. She just needs some rest. She’s had a very long trip!”

“I know,” Korben said. “I was there when she arrived.”

He was neatly deposited in the hallway.

The door was just about to slide shut when he checked it with his hand, tripping the safety override.

“Excuse me. One other thing, Father. She said something to me a while ago and I didn’t really get it. Akta gamat?”

“Akta gamat,” repeated Cornelius, hitting the safety override. “It means ‘Never without my permission.’”

“That’s what I thought,” said Korben as the door slid shut in his face.

“Evening!” said Korben to the robot doorman.

It was a half hour later. He had taken the cab back to the garage, and he was returning to his lonely apartment halfway up the towers of the city. Not high enough for the truly clean air, but above the worst of the smell.

“Evening,” he said to his neighbor in the hallway.

“Fuck you,” said the nasty neighbor. It was what he always said to everybody.

“Thanks,” said Korben wearily. “You too.”

He slipped into his tiny apartment module.

“Meeeow!”

The cat came running and started rubbing against his leg.

“Oh, God, I forgot your food! I’m really sorry!” Korben turned and pressed a button on the wall. It was directly connected to a fast-food restaurant. “How about a nice Thai nosh to apologize? How does that sound?”

“Meow.”

The phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, bud,” growled Finger’s voice. “I’m waiting all day here at the garage.”

“Finger, man,” muttered Korben. “I’m sorry. Listen, the cab is fine. Purring like a cat.”

“Yeah? Well, if that’s the case why don’t you let me hear it?”

“Okay. Look,” said Korben, “I was on my way over, but I had a fare fall into my lap. You know, one of those big fares you just can’t resist?”

Finger was still suspicious. “How big?”

“About five-foot-nine,” said Korben, pulling a cigarette from his vest “Green eyes, long legs, great skin. You know? Perfect.”

He tried to light a match.

It sputtered damply and went out.

“Uh huh,” said Finger. “I see! And this perfect fare—she’s got, like, a name?”

“Yeeaaahhh,” said Korben dreamily. “Leeloo.”