The Fifth Element

15

Light years away from Zorg and his pet, three warships were positioned in front of a dark shape that had congealed into a planet.

The warships were the cream of the United Federation fleet. The best of the best.

The planet was the worst of the worst—a dark conglomeration of an intelligent, or at least responsive, anti-matter. It seemed to literally eat light, leaving a null darkness from which the eye could not be averted.

Small bright specks were being drawn into it.

One winked in from a far distance and disappeared. Then another, from another sector of the galaxy.

They were drawn to its darkness as bugs are drawn to light. It was an anti-light, a vacuum that sucked in information, a black hole that ate technology.

“It’s gobbling up all the communications satellites in the galaxy!” exclaimed a voice from one of the watching ships.

Thanks to the magic of FTL (faster-than-light) plasma optics, the dark planet also appeared on a viewscreen in an office in Manhattan.

The voice from the ship was heard there too.

The listener was a large black man slumped over in a chair bearing the seal of the United Federation.

The President.

“Why the hell is it eating up all those satellites?” he asked.

A grim-faced scientist stood at his elbow.

“We’re working on it, President Lindberg.”

“It should only choke on them,” groaned the President.

General Munro entered the office as the scientist left.

Also entering the office was a small cockroach—or what appeared to be a cockroach. The tiny antennae on its back revealed it to be a genetically altered biological (GAB) listening device.

Connected to the scurrying GAB was a man in a small room across town, listening on earphones.

Right Arm.

General Munro saluted the President. “I managed to contact the Mondoshawans,” he said. “They deplore the incident, but accept our apologies.”

The President breathed a sigh of relief. “And the stones? Did you find them in the wreckage of the Mondoshawan ship?”

“The Sacred Stones weren’t aboard the ship.”

“What?” The President was all ears.

So, thanks to the magic of nanotech, was Right Arm.

“The Mondoshawans never fully trusted the human race,” said General Munro. “So they gave the stones to someone they do trust. Her name is Plavalaguna.”

“Plavalawho?”

“Plavalaguna,” said Munro. “She’s a famous diva, and she’s going to sing at the charity ball on Fhloston Paradise in a few hours. She has the Sacred Stones with her.”

“Excellent,” said the President, taking off one shoe.

Excellent! breathed Right Arm to himself.

“Damn bugs!” said the President. He smashed the cockroach on his desk.

WHACK!

And Right Arm’s earphones flew off.

Thanks to the magic of audio amplification.

“I want this operation to be as discreet as possible,” said the President. “No troops, no big operation. The council doesn’t have to know about this yet. I want your best man on this.”

“Hmmmm,” said Munro. “I have the perfect man.”

Munro’s perfect man was throwing up into his toilet bowl.

His cat looked on through the open bathroom door. People had the strangest habits. But hair ball?

From the window, the Thai cook looked on with professional concern. He was holding the remains of the dessert. It was a special delicacy made with live squid, honey still in the bees, and sweetened jellyfish excrement.

“You no like the dessert?”

Korben gave a weak thumbs up, “I just ate it too fast,” he said. “I guess.”

The phone rang.

Korben picked it up. “Hello?”

“You are the nastiest dirtbag I know in this stinking city!”

“Hi, Ma,” said Korben.

He held the receiver a few inches from his ear. “I’ve been playing twice a week for twenty years! Twenty years I’ve been eating those shitty croquettes!”

Korben crossed the room and found a cigarette. “You wouldn’t even eat one to help your poor mother, and you win the big prize? Know something? The whole thing makes me sick!”

“I can relate, Ma,” said Korben, even though he had no idea what she was talking about.

He searched the pockets of his vest for a match. Meanwhile, at the window, the Thai Fly By was starting to clean up.

Korben covered the receiver. “Go ahead. This could take a while.”

“I leave it here,” said the cook. “Go ahead, take your time.”

He put the dessert on the windowsill and cast off with a wave.

The dessert was still moving. From inside the crust, Korben could hear tiny screams,

“Are you still listening, you ingrate?”

“Yes, Ma,” said Korben, sitting down at his table. “Other than that, you all right?”

He tried a match.

No luck.

“And now you’re making fun of me. Pm warning you!”

Korben tried the second match.

It lit.

“If you don’t take me after all those years of sacrifice, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Ma, what are you talking about?”

“I get it. You want to make me beg, is that it?” “All I want is an explanation,” Korben said. “I just got in, I lost my job, I smashed my cab. I got mugged, but other than that everything’s peachy, Ma. Thanks for asking. Now settle down and explain to me what you are talking about. Ooow!” The forgotten second match burned Korben’s hand.

He dropped it and it went out.

“You just won a trip, you dolt! Ten days in Fhloston Paradise for two!”

“Ma, if I had won, I would know about it. Someone would have notified me.”

“Meow.”

The cat was looking at the message tube. The “incoming” light was blinking.

Korben took out his last match. One more try.

“They’ve been blaring out your name on the radio for the last hour, blockhead!”

Korben looked at the message waiting in the tube. He was just about to reach for it when—

BBRRRIHNNGGG!

The doorbell rang.

Korben put his last match back in the matchbox.

“Ma, it’s the door. Wait a second…”

He clicked HOLD and turned on the hallway security monitor.

He saw a familiar face. Too familiar.

He clicked the phone back on. “Mother, I’ll call you back.”

He opened the door.

“Nice apartment, Major,” said General Munro, entering without waiting to be invited in.

Behind him was a woman in uniform. A sort of a woman. All she needed to be a man was a moustache.

“Looks like you’ve settled into a wonderful life since leaving the service,” said Munro. “Except I hear you’ve lost your job.”

Korben’s arms were folded. “I’ll find another one.”

“Don’t bother,” said Munro. “We have a job for you.”

“Nice to see you’re still thinking of me,” said Korben.

“More than ever,” said Munro. He snapped his fingers and the female officer opened a file and handed him a sheet of paper.

“Major Korben Dallas,” Munro read in his best clipped and pressed military tones. “You have just been selected for a mission of the utmost importance.”

“What mission?”

“To save the world,” said Munro.

“I was afraid of that,” said Korben. “I think I’ve heard this song before.”

Munro ignored him. “You are to leave immediately for Fhloston Paradise. Retrieve four stones from the Diva Plavalaguna. And bring them back with the utmost discretion possible.”

Munro handed the paper back to the female officer, who put it back into the file.

“Any questions?”

“Just one,” said Korben. “Why me? I’m retired, six months already. Remember?”

“Three reasons,” said General Munro. “One— as a member of the Elite Special Forces unit of the United Federation armed forces, you are an expert in the use of all weapons and spacecraft needed for this mission.

“Two—of all the members of your unit you were the most decorated.”

Korben remained unconvinced. “And the third one?”

“You’re the only one left alive.”

Before Korben could respond, Munro bent over

the flashing tube and took out the incoming communication. It was two tickets wrapped in a message. “Don’t you bother to open your incoming?” “I’ve had enough good news for today,” said Korben.

“You have won the annual Gemini Croquettes contest, and a trip to Fhloston Paradise,” said Munro, without reading the message. “For two. Congratulations.”

He handed the tickets to Korben, who looked at them, and then back at the general.

“You rigged the contest?”

General Munro nodded.

“You couldn’t come up with something a little more—discreet?”

Munro shook his head. “Old tricks are the best tricks,” he said.

He stepped back and the female officer stepped forward. “Major Iceborg here will accompany you, as your wife.”

Korben was already shaking his head. “I’m not going.”

“Why not?” asked Munro.

“One reason,” said Korben. “I want to remain the only one from my unit left alive.”